1, go to bed, 2, I gave it back.
-☘️ anon
ok ok good & nuh uh i am not

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1, go to bed, 2, I gave it back.
-☘️ anon
ok ok good & nuh uh i am not
I did it.
☘️ anon
be ready for my death/j
ruh roh
I MEAN NUH UH THAT'S WHAT I MEAN >:[/silly
brb gonna steal her phone gimmie a second/j
-☘️ anon
HEJEKEMNEMEMEOWME HAJENENE
NO NO NO HDY
HEY
NUH UH YOU CAN'T DO THAT/j
-☘️ anon
FYM I CANT KEKSKSMSM WHEN I GET YOU WHEN I GET YOU /j /silly
ASK LFG SHE KNOWS ME/j
(she figured me put 😔)
-☘️ anon
@luckyfailuregirl WHO IS THIS IMPOSTOR EKSKME
If Connor could talk to the other Connor's, he'd have a lot of questions. If Connor could talk to Amanda, he'd have even more. And if Kamski would respond to his calls and requests, maybe he'd get some answers. Or, more likely, a sick little game.
But Connor couldn't do any of that. All he could do was walk along the paths of his Zen Garden, thinking and thinking about things that made him even more confused. Thinking questions that would have no answers. Then eventually landing in his usual spot, the grave of Connor 51, Connor 52, and Connor 60. Who put these here?
If no one was told that Connor 52 died, would they be able to tell? Was he the same person as those other 3? Would he be rejected? He had so many questions it was hard to stay calm.
He opened his eyes to the dark room. Xavier softly snoring on the bed, rain pattering against the glass.
Was he the Connor Xavier fell in love with? Or was he an impostor?