Sade Olutola
Claire Keane
đȘŒ
ellievsbear
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Keni
Kiana Khansmith
art blog(derogatory)
Product Placement
Sweet Seals For You, Always
PR's Tumblrdome
trying on a metaphor
Cosimo Galluzzi
dirt enthusiast
Kaledo Art
oozey mess
Three Goblin Art
â
almost home
Andulka
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Colombia
seen from Singapore
seen from Indonesia
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from TĂŒrkiye
seen from Ghana
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from Japan
seen from United States
seen from United States
@kitcastellanos
take me as i am, i'm a fucking nightmare
â BIOGRAPHY â MUSE â CONNECTIONS â
QUICK STATS:NAME: Christopher Elliott Castellanos NICKNAME(S) / ALIAS: Chris, Kit, Kit Taylor FC: Danny Ramirez AGE: 30 BIRTHPLACE: Pacific Palisades, CA BIRTHDATE: July 17, 1994 ZODIAC SIGNS: Cancer Sun, Taurus Moon, Virgo Rising OCCUPATION: Freelance Photographer NEIGHBORHOOD: Downtown TIME LIVING IN BRIAR RIDGE: <6 months SEXUALITY: Pansexual
starter for: @kitcastellanos location: golden hour beach bar
It had been a week, that was for sure. Val might have bitten off a bit more than she could chew, taking on extra classes at the rec center during the same week sheâd packed her schedule with appointments to view rental spaces downtown.
By the time Saturday night rolled around, it felt like she was running on fumes. And while her first choice would have been to head home, cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie with Leyla and Billie, she had promised a coworker that she would come out for her birthday. At least said birthday celebration was at Golden Hour, one of Val's favorite places in Briar Ridge.
She was already struggling with a tension headache by the time she got to the bar, so trying to distinguish the voices of her friends over the pulsing music proved extra difficult and she found herself wishing she could turn off her cochlear implant and just use sign language instead.
After a while, she found herself drifting inch by inch away from the center of the party, toward a familiar spot out on the deck. Sheâd discovered long ago that the walls there blocked just enough of the music to make it bearable.
When she reached the railing, she leaned into it, savoring the small reprieve the quieter air offered. She rolled her shoulders back and extended her arms to stretch, trying to ease some of the tension in her neck, only to accidentally brush her hand against someone beside her.
âMierda!â she muttered under her breath, spinning toward them. âIâm so sorry, I didnât mean to burst your personal space bubble!â
It was only after the apology left her mouth that she realized she knew them. âHeyâKit, right?â
Kit was always stuck in Dad World which didn't seem like a bad place to be . . . unless he was having a shitty week, much like this week. In all other circumstances, he would've taken Friday night and turned a movie on for the kids before he just laid in bed and did nothing, but he was trying something new. He had recently been advised to take some 'me-time' in the form of going out and not feeling guilty to leaving his children with a nanny or a friend.
So today, he wandered into one of the local bars, gotten himself a little mocktail and stood off in the corner, trying his hand at meeting new friends. He had managed to speak to a handful of people before he'd retreated to this nice corner, overlooking the water. There was something serene about staring at the reflection of the sun against the little ripples.
But then he was quickly pulled out of his thoughts as he felt a hand skim his back. He turned quickly, holding a hand out and reaching for Val's arm in an attempt to steady her before they both realized who the other was.
"Hi," he smiled, hand still gently wrapped around her bicep. "You okay? You having a good time?" he asked, corners of his lips still curled upwards slightly.
"Damn, you're the second person this week who I've met who kills all her husbands!" he teased back, the little grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
"I mean, I can definitely call in a few favors. I have a whole list of people who might be free and willing to help," he nodded, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. He opened Instagram, careful not to turn the screen towards Elsie too much before he'd gotten to the page he was looking for.
"Alright, we've got Santiago RincĂłn, Arabelle Namin, Sarah Jacobson, David Young," he read off, pausing between each name to see her reaction and get her approval of who to reach out to. To the general public, these names were just names on a list, but to anyone who was anyone, they'd know these were names featured in Vogue, People Magazine, Harper's Bazaar.
"Santiago might actually be back in the States. Maybe I can give him a call."
"You should put me in contact with the other person. I'm always interested in learning new techniques and if I have to ever blame the murders on someone." Elsie teased though the thought was quite amusing to her. She didn't really have a mean bone in her body, at least not enough to murder.
He didn't have to call in favors with anyone but she was happy that he was taking enough pity that he'd set something in motion to help her out. "I'll definitely return the favor if I ever get the opportunity and would be internally grateful to you for that." She chalked on with a smile as she looked him over. He was attractive and kind. A rare pairing.
Her mouth parted for a second and then she laughed, silently, almost cautiously. Mainly because she was waiting for him to actually join her in a teasing manner that would let her know that he was actually kidding rather than these names being possibilities. "Wait, what do you do?" Now she was more confused.
"I mean.... yeah, please. Wow. I should have asked for more money in that quote I gave my clients if I knew this could be an option."
Kit could instantly tell when the sheer panic flooded her face as he started listing off names. And then he heard her question. He just briefly shrug it off before he kept scrolling. "Umm, I have slightly less popular options who might be a little more in your clients' budgets."
He leaned in slightly closer to her, scrolling through and listing a few more names. "What if I just make you a quick spreadsheet and send it off to you?" Kit asked, eyebrow raising slightly as he tilted his head towards her.
"But, to go back, in simplest terms, I work in the entertainment industry."
đ for a party song from my muse's playlist
I actually have a playlist called âParty Mixâ that everyone should have, but this was one of the first ones that popped up that caught my eye:
Temperature by Sean Paul will always get me on the dance floor.
Send a âš for a song that reminds my muse of someone
Gone by *NSYNC.
Better believe Iâm over the moon about it now, though.
Here's a music related ask meme to hopefully get the creative juices flowing! Please ensure to send at least one ask to everyone who is participating for each of their characters!
Send a đ” for a song about a specific time in my muse's life (specify the incident)
Send a đŒ for a random song from my muse's playlist
Send a đ for a party song from my muse's playlist
Send a đ for a song my muse likes to have sex to
Send a đ for a song that makes me think of our characters (specify who)
Send a đ„ for a song that always gets them motivated
Send a â€ïž for a love song from my muse's playlist
Send a đ for a breakup song from my muse's playlist
Send a âš for a song that reminds my muse of someone
Send a đș for a song that is guaranteed to make my muse get up and dance
Send a đ for a song that always cheers my muse up
Send a đą for a song my muse listens to when they're sad
Send a đ for my muse to explain what their favorite music genre is
Send a đ€ for my muse's go to karaoke song
Send a đïžââïž for a song my muse loves to listen to at the gym
Send a đ for my muse's guilty pleasure song
Send a đ for my muse's favorite/most played song
KIT'S INBOX
Sebastian made a face as Kit corrected his assumption, groaning as he waved his hand dismissively. He was a loyal friend who would talk trash about the nicest person he knew if it meant making his friend feel better. He wasn't shy about indulging in his delusions, even if they both knew whatever was about to come out of his mouth was a complete lie. "Well, he's a B-lister to me," Sebastian defended dramatically. "I could find an Etsy witch, and we could start manifesting his downfall, actually." The idea even seemed somewhat reasonable as he took another quick sip of his drink.
Sebastian lifted his gaze when Kit suggested it was a case of the right person but the wrong time. Maybe there was a part of him that could relate to that, but he wasn't so sure. Still, he hated the thought that Kit believed his ex was the right person, especially since he didnât want to be a father. "You clearly love being a dad, Kit," Sebastian said, suddenly serious. "He wasn't the right guy. The right guy will love your kids as much as you do." He decides to tease him a bit, nudging his way with a playful glint in his eye. "It's more of a case of wrong person, wrong time."
The right guy will love your kids as much as you do seemed to now echo in Kit's head. All thanks to Sebastian. The man Kit (not so secretly) had a crush on. In his head he so wished Sebastian was that guy.
"Thank you," he nodded, that little grin permanently glued to his lips as he looked up at Sebastian again. "And I'm sorry that I was a total debby downer with that story," he laughed. "Fuck, I suck!"
He grabbed his glass and chugged the rest of his sweet drink, knowing it didn't have alcohol in it, but it was kind of like the placebo effect, or like how they tell people who want to quit smoking to replace a cigarette with a lollipop.
"Now what?" he asked, licking off the rest of the salt rim before he put his glass aside.
Alara didnât speak right away. She let his words settle between them, let the crashing of the waves fill the silence like a breath after impact. It struck her, how similar and yet vastly different their situations were. Her father had been gone for almost two years now as well. And yet, his ghost was lingering with far different intentions. Her gaze stayed on the ocean, but her voice, when it came, was soft. Steady.
âI donât think itâs stupid,â she said, almost gently. âI think⊠when someone carves out that much space inside youâwhether itâs good or badâitâs hard to just fill it back in when theyâre gone.â
She drew her knees up, arms folding loosely around them. âMy dad was the opposite, actually. He was kind. Quiet. Thoughtful in this way that made you want to do better, just so heâd be proud. And he always was, even when I didnât deserve it.â
She exhaled through her nose, a small, almost embarrassed laugh leaving her. âI used to think I had all the time in the world to tell him thank you for that. For seeing me. And now⊠Iâd give anything just to hear his voice again. Even if it was to scold me.â
Her eyes flicked toward Kit, not pushing, just present. âItâs not stupid. Itâs just griefâmessy, shapeshifting, loud or quiet depending on the day. And it never really leaves us alone. Even if we wish it would.â
Kit looked over at her as she was halfway through her spiel. Not because he was finally interested, but because her words were resonating with him in a way he couldn't comprehend. He had no siblings so no one was really able to feel the way he did about his father passing.
"The things I would do to have gotten a father like yours. Mine, on the other hand, I mean, he did do things that eventually benefitted me as an adult but it took becoming a father myself to see that. To really understand him," he nodded, gaze turning back towards the wave again. He had closed the notebook on his pen and set it aside, arms curling up around the knees he had bent in front of him.
"I think one of this biggest things that I still don't understand about him is why he was so mean. I have four kids of my own and even if they robbed a bank, I don't think I could ever bring myself to yell at them or call them names. My father was just so harsh with his words. Did you know he plotted with my ex-boyfriend to drag me into rehab? Couldn't even have the decency of inviting me over and just having an intervention. He literally paid my ex-boyfriend to lure me into a public meeting place where they put me in a blacked-out SUV and took me to rehab," he shook his head.
Then it took a moment and he let out a little laugh. A pathetic little laugh. "And the funniest part, really, it was hilarious. He paid the tabloids to keep the news out of the media, knowing he'd put the news all out in the open to begin with!"
His voice had raised just slightly, but he wasn't quite yelling yet, either. He let out another little breath and shook his head. "But, man, I still replay a voicemail of his when I miss him sometimes."
Elena watched the exchange between father and son with quiet interest, her head tilted just slightly, like she was filing it away for later. There was something in the way Kit spoke to the kid, soft but not patronizing, that made her mouth pull into something close to a smile.
She didnât say anything right away. Just reached down to swipe an oat flake off her own knee, flicking it lazily toward the water like maybe it still had a shot.
âRough day?â she echoed, glancing sideways at him, one brow arching faintly. âNo. Just the usual combination of emails, court filings, and the lingering existential dread of living in a town where everyone knows your business before youâve had your morning coffee.â
But there was no bite in it. If anything, it was said with a dry sort of humor that suggested sheâd already made peace with it.
Her eyes followed Jersey for a beat, making sure he was still in oat-flinging range, before she looked back at Kit.
âDidnât know there was a designated mental breakdown trail,â she added. âYouâll have to mark that on the town map for me. Maybe install a bench and a plaque. âIn memory of my last ounce of patience.ââ Her smile tilted, wry. âIâll bring snacks.â
A pause, then, more gently, âBut yeah. Walk helps. Ducks help more.â
Kit let out a little whistle at the sound of what had been on her to-do list. He knew being a parent was almost as busy, if not more, but he always felt for people in demanding work positions. He had a soft spot knowing that he was once one of those people, too.
"You seem like you are the number one coffee customer in this town and also probably leave the most amount of footprints on this dirt road," he smiled, rolling back on his heels just slightly.
He was really hoping he wasn't intruding, and even moreso, he was really hoping that their interaction was getting her out of whatever thoughts were in her head. Good, bad, the inbetween.
"Well, I know we just met, but I have four kids and they all love to go on walks around here. The older two don't really care for feeding ducks anymore but they have their own ways to release stress. I charge ten dollars an hour per kid rental," he spoke, doing his very best to keep a straight face at his own offer.
âOh, absolutely I have. I used to feel so guilty about it. But then I realized... Iâm a better mom when Iâm not running on fumes and caffeine alone.â She tilted her head thoughtfully, the woman's smile tinged with a hint of weariness. âIt took me a while to learn that resting doesnât mean Iâve failed her. I mean, I still second-guess myself, donât get me wrong... But every now and then, Iâll ask my mom to watch Juliana, or trade favours with another parent from school just so I can go to the grocery store in peace. Or, letâs be honest, go out for a drink with my best friend.â
She took a sip of her coffee and glanced over at him with a sympathetic grin. âYou deserve that time too, you know. It doesnât make you selfish. Especially when youâre raising so many little humans. Sometimes, whatâs best for them is a parent whoâs not completely burnt out. I remind myself of that a lot. And that's what I'm here for too. Even if it's just to take Miles off your hands for a few hours.â
Kit nodded, hanging on to her every word. Back in LA, he still didn't go out much, dubbing himself the stay-at-home dad title while he was still married. After the divorce, he had his mom around to help. But he still always felt like he should be at home all the time. It was getting easier as the boys grew up, each one of them slowly getting their own school time, which allowed Kit one less child to spend all day long with, but it still ate at him that he even considered going out constantly.
"I hired one of the local teenager babysitters that I saw post ads in the rec center. And so far, everything has been good. It helps that I haven't really been working right now so I can just focus on being home, but..." he trailed off a little bit. "Maybe I'll start reaching out to the boys' friends' parents and even just take up the offer for some after-school playdates," he nodded, eyes meeting Gen's again.
"What about dating? How do you do that with a kid? Or in my case, four?"
Emil couldn't help but match the other man's easy enthusiasm, "Yeah. Yeah. Well, I used ta. Now I just yell at a screen an' coach t-ball." A humble gruff chuckle colored the admittance, "batting cages are still good for stress." That and, when he had company, going to local games and eating his fill of ballpark concessions. As Kit explained he didn't have to toy with the speed settings and everything else, Emil offered a thankful nod. "Right, I think I ought'a be able to manage that much." One hoped. A surprised bark of a laugh caught in his throat, "SĂ, hablo español." It was a detail he wasn't sure people always caught onto. "An' I teach my daughter. Ella es hija Ășnica y muy consentida." Or, well, he liked to think Isa was spoiled. As of late that was harder, but if luck was on his side all that would blow over soon enough.
"Oh, shit, that's pretty cool. I played when I was younger, got injured in high school, and now I'm a baseball dad!" Kit smiled, his shoulders shrugging slightly. "Ya sabes, como es la vida. It switches up on you without you planning it."
"You have a daughter? How old is she? I have four kids, so maybe we can plan some playdates or something?" he asked, eyebrow raising just slightly. Did he want playdates with Emil's kid or playdates with Emil himself? Maybe it was a little bit of both. But Kit wouldn't admit to that if he didn't have to.
"If you ever get tired of the gym and wanna throw the ball around, I still have a glove and a kid who loves to play catch, too!"
Elsie paused and then laughed, realizing she hadn't even explained that she was an event planner that was hired to plan a wedding. Perhaps her friend hadn't mentioned her in passing but with the urgency to get him to accept this photography opportunity, she was forgetting details that were important. "Sorry, I'm an event planner. I haven't gotten one person to propose to me yet, much less multiple."
She laughed as she regarded him and then nudged him playfully when she realized that he'd been joking with her. "Then again, maybe I've just killed all my past husbands and you're next."
Elsie was teasing and she hoped he knew that. But in case, she made a point of saying it.
Her lips parted slightly when he explained what kind of photography he did, and she could only look at her friend over her shoulder because that had been something that was left out. Then again, her friend had a job that was more analytical so it wasn't surprising that she would believe all photographers could do wedding photography.
"See, that detail wasn't told to me." She cleared her throat and grimaced.
A still for a cover was much different than posing a whole wedding group and creating an album for a couple who wanted their most memorable day to be captured.
"Do you owe any of them a favor because the wedding is in a few days and I need them to agree to it in a matter of hours."
"Damn, you're the second person this week who I've met who kills all her husbands!" he teased back, the little grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
"I mean, I can definitely call in a few favors. I have a whole list of people who might be free and willing to help," he nodded, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. He opened Instagram, careful not to turn the screen towards Elsie too much before he'd gotten to the page he was looking for.
"Alright, we've got Santiago RincĂłn, Arabelle Namin, Sarah Jacobson, David Young," he read off, pausing between each name to see her reaction and get her approval of who to reach out to. To the general public, these names were just names on a list, but to anyone who was anyone, they'd know these were names featured in Vogue, People Magazine, Harper's Bazaar.
"Santiago might actually be back in the States. Maybe I can give him a call."
Ulla lets out a bright laugh, playfully waving her hand as she humbly brushes aside his compliments. "Oh, hush," she says, a wide grin on her face as her fingers lightly touch her lips. Benny can't help but chuckle, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease as he tries to be fully present in the moment. Although itâs challenging, he knows he needs to focus on whatâs happening around him. He can't let himself drift too far away. Benny tilts his head, captivated as he watches Kit energetically take photos while his mother gracefully adjusts her poses.
There was a brief pause after Kit asked his question. Benny looked up, meeting Kit's gaze before glancing at his mother behind him. She seemed momentarily taken aback, but quickly relaxed into a soft smile as she adjusted her posture. "I'm just getting ahead, dear," she replied on Benny's behalf, waving her hand to capture Kit's attention. "Iâm not getting any younger, and I donât want anyone using a photo of me from my thirties. Iâm proud of who I am now. This is how I want to be remembered." Ulla smiled proudly, exuding a refined quality that conveyed her sincerity.
Benny felt a sense of satisfaction with his motherâs response; it was straightforward and unapologetic. He is reminded daily of how much she has changed since he first moved to Briar Ridge eight years ago. âI will also be hanging it up in the hallway,â he adds, which earns a laugh from her.
Kit was standing in front of Ulla, briefly pausing from taking photos to switch out the lenses on his camera. His lips stayed permanently in this little grin. It was welcoming, making it obvious that he was listening to everything Ulla had to say, and making it even more obvious that he was intrigued by what she was saying.
"Oh, man. If you look this good at this age, I can only imagine how much more beautiful you were in your thirties," Kit spoke, sending Ulla a little tiny wink, a mutual understanding that he was being generous with it. Nothing weird about making sure his model was comfortable with herself and was confident with herself.
Kit began snapping photos again, pausing between every few to show Ulla on his computer. They were just little glimpses, photos before being edited, but he liked cheering her on.
"So how far does the Hellstrom lineage go in Briar Ridge?" he asked, positioning himself behind the viewfinder, waiting for just the right moment to snap the next photo of his model.
Livia was left speechless at the fact that he literally wanted to pay her for a haircut despite the fact that she had not been serious about it at all. Her eyebrows were raised at the sight of him pulling money from his wallet. And before she could stop herself, she started laughing. She quickly moved her hand in front of her mouth. "I'm sorry, that was very rude."
The woman took a deep breath and shook her head. "I don't need money for a haircut. I was being sarcastic. I was never planning on sueing and by the way, this is my original haircolour. I don't need a color or whatever. Just keep the money and an eye out on your kid. Accidents happen, he will learn from it. So will I learn to not get annoyed too quickly."
Kit still had his hand extended with the two bills out towards the girl, lips still pressed together tight, listening to her yap away. He could tell she was just snippy overall. He didn't hate it, quite frankly, he needed someone around who could challenge him and be "mean."
"Are you done?" he asked, eyebrow raising slightly, waiting for the girl to take a deep breath since she had spoken for so long.
"Okay, good. So anyway, since you won't take my money for your hair, can I at least buy you a coffee or a new coffee pot or something to make your days a little better?" he asked. He wasn't necessarily flirting, but he also wasn't not flirting. He just knew that sometimes there was a hidden reason for why people acted a certain way and maybe they just needed a little extra support.
Sebastian listened intently, his focus sharpened as he began to grasp the full extent of what Kit had endured. Six years was a long time, and it must have been an enormous shock for Kit when his partner suddenly decided to leave a lifelong commitment. As Kit finished speaking, Sebastian leaned back, his shoulders relaxing, and couldnât help but scoff at the term "rockstar life" coming from his mouth. Despite their different circumstances, Sebastian related to the feeling of abandonment, and he found it hard to imagine having children to look after when he could barely take care of himself. âNot weird,â he began. âYou deserve better. Heâs an asshole for abandoning four children.â Sebastian shook his head, struggling to find the right words to express his outrage. âYou would think he would realize he didnât want to be a father after the second kid. I mean,â he paused to take a sip of his drink, âheâs on the B-list for a reason, right?â
A little grin curled up on Kit's lips as Sebastian spoke, their eyes making direct contact before Kit looked away and found sudden interest in his Shirley Temple. He brought the glass up to his lips before he followed up with a little scoff.
"The worst part is, he's definitely not a B-lister and part of why I left LA. I would've run into him at too many things and seen him all over the pages of all the stupid tabloids--" he paused, taking in a deep breath. He was word vomiting, oversharing, the whole nine yards. And somehow he thought this was going to get Sebastian to like him?
"I guess it's just a part of life, right? Right person, wrong time, or whatever that stupid saying is?"
Elena laughed under her breath, just a quiet exhale through her nose as Jerseyâs enthusiastic toss scattered oats in every direction but the one intended. She leaned slightly to brush a few flakes off his shoulder with the back of her hand, careful and gentle, like it was part of the ritual.
âImpeccable aim,â she said, solemn as a judge. âI think that one duck over there blinked in appreciation.â
And then: âQuack,â she echoed, straight-faced. Like they were in on something together.
When she heard the voice behind themâolder, warm, edged with apologyâshe straightened a little, glancing up over her shoulder at Kit as he closed the distance. Her sunglasses had slipped partway down her nose again, and she pushed them up with one finger before meeting his eyes.
âNo need to apologize,â she said easily. âI think he mightâve just saved me from spiraling into a very unnecessary internal debate about work emails.â
There was something a little sharper beneath the warmth of her smile, but it wasnât unkind. Just⊠honest. Like maybe she had needed the interruption more than she cared to admit.
Her gaze flicked back to Jersey. âAnd anyway, anyone with that level of duck-related conviction deserves the floor.â
Kit had his hands shoved into his pockets, knowing that later on that evening he'd find little remnants of oatmeal in them from whatever was stuck on his fingers.
"Hey, I think everyone needs a little duck distraction from time to time," he smiled, warmly. He looked down at his kid, squatting down to get to his eye level before he spoke to him directly for a moment. "Bub, you can keep throwing oatmeal, pero no te acerques mucho al agua, okay?" he spoke, softly, warmly, much like he had been talking to the girl.
After making sure Jersey wasn't straying too far away or too close to the pond, Kit stood back up and looked at Elena again. "You having a rough day today? I know going on a walk always helps clear my head. Especially down this way. There's a nice little trail over on the other side of the playground where I like to have my mental breakdowns," he said, a little grin curling up on the ends of his lips as he looked at her. He was only half joking.
Genâs expression softened at the sound of her friend's words, the woman's heart tugging with an ache of familiarity. âYeah⊠I get that. My father lives in New York, so when Cam was still living there, the two of us would fly out when she had time off from school, and sometimes he would keep her for a few weeks before bringing her back to Briar Ridge. It was good for them, and I wanted her to have that relationship, but God was it hard to be away from her for more than a day or two.â Her voice faltered for just a second, the memory still bringing up hard feelings. âThe silence in the house was deafening. I thought Iâd enjoy the time to myself, and I still do.. But in small doses.â
A small chuckle floated out from between the woman's lips, just knowing that Kit would relate to everything she was telling him. Being a single parent only seemed to worsen the separation anxiety. âI used to start doubting everythingâmy parenting, my decisions, my ability to be enough on my own. I didnât have anyone to tag in when I was tired or second-guessing myself. Even now, with Cameron back, those years left a mark. You get used to being everything all at once for someone: the playmate, the chauffeur, the therapist, the bedtime story narrator. And yeah, sometimes I crave just one damn day where no one says âMomâ before Iâve had coffee. But even at my most exhausted, I wouldnât trade away any of it. Sheâs my best friend, and sheâs the one person who reminds me who I am, even when I forget.â
Kit listened like he loved to do. Sometimes he told himself he'd gone into the wrong career and should've been a therapist solely because he loved to listen to people talk. They could be talking about anything and Kit was there.
Gen mentioned the coffee and Kit made a little gesture to the cup he had in his hands. "You think this is my first one? I know it's only eleven, but it's safe to say I've had more coffee today than I've had food. It's the only thing that keeps me going," he joked.
"I mean, I guess things are a little bit different since you only have one baby, but do you ever hire a sitter to just have some alone time? I always feel kind of guilty even just thinking about doing that."
