TEXT: Open
Harley: I've finished a song! I just don't know if I like it... What if no one else will like it? Fuck... What if I just fucked up a song??
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TEXT: Open
Harley: I've finished a song! I just don't know if I like it... What if no one else will like it? Fuck... What if I just fucked up a song??
Don't. Fucking. Touch me...I am perfectly capable, okay? I can look after myself, look...I'm keeping myself hydrated. Like a responsible adult. Now stop being a little dick and I might let you join in on the fun.
It's too fucking hot...Do I look gross and sweaty? Making us come to school in this whether should be fucking illegal. We get snow days, we should get too hot days.
“I got a really random text stating I was someone’s bae today, and a picture of something I’d rather not talk about. Then when I texted them back, wrong number..they asked if I was Melanie. I’m pretty disturbed.”
Ryan had arrived on a flight back from London in the early hours of the afternoon, and after wandering around his house trying to come to terms with the fact that he’d most likely seen his grandfather for the last time, he decided to head to school. After collecting the work he’d missed from his teachers, the tattooed boy waited out in the carpark while leaning against the side of his car. His classmates were filing out the main doors as the final bell had just rang, signaling the escape from the education for the day. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, but perhaps a familar face was all he craved.
"What to do when you come to school a teeny bit still drunk from the night before? I didn't mean to, okay? I tried to sleep but my time was limited and I have so much energy I just -"
❝ I’m not joking ; but I lost my guitar. ❞
So Miss Bellamy sent me to detention, apparently I have to learn how to deal with my anger issues. I don’t have anger issues, Whatever, I don’t even like French.