I'm going to New York.
seen from Italy
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I'm going to New York.
Jehan stood by the front door of the Ermitage. She fidgeted with her sleeves. Saying that she was nervous was an understatement. Although her mother had agreed to meet with her and Correntin, Jehan still had a sinking feeling in her stomach. She was broken out of her thoughts when the front door opened. Jehan looked up to meet the woman's gaze. It was her mother. Instinctively Jehan looked down at her feet. "Hello, Marguerite."
"Don't look down at your feet like that, Jeanne. It's rude." Marguerite ordered coldly.
I'm sorry.
Brujon I have the tickets.... I cut them this morning. We depart on the eighth...
Well... -sits down on the couch in the groove lounge and sighs- I found a new one. Just in case.
Oh Putain.
Chanel, fucking hell.
Oh Putain.