You can sing?!
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@zach-attack-reynolds
You can sing?!
"I mean, it's not going to win me a Grammy but I can carry a tune, yeah."
—Before I say anything, did you write that?
"That bad? You don't want to hurt my feelings so you need to know first?"
"I’ve been listening. You’re pretty good."
"Thanks. But also, ah fuck. I was hoping I wouldn't have to wonder who took the page anymore. Don't think we've met before, and if we did I was... well, I was drunk since I don't remember. I'm Zachary. Just Zach, though. My mom calls me Zachary when I have my feet on the table or some shit."
"Do you think he’d introduce you, to his friends and family? Ha, you chose the path where your only worth is your body."
"So there's two possible explanations here... Either you've been listening to me going through the same song for the past two hours, or you're the one that stole the page from my notebook. Which is it?"
"—— ’ S a good song, man. Ya’ didn’t tell me you could sing. Or play."
"I didn't think I'd ever being doing either again, but hey, what pops doesn't know won't hurt him, right?"
"I don't want it now. You've been used and degraded. It's not like you didn't know. My paranoia wasn't mistaken."
Bro, come on it’s a mistletoe, bro.
It’s not homosexual, it’s traditional come on bro.
Mia shook her head, laughing. “You’re too great.”
Zach shrugged, wide smile on his face. "I know."
Torture? I just stopped by to say hi. Did I do something wrong?
"Yes." Zach stressed the word, folding his arms over his chest in an adamant stance. It didn't last long before he deflated, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "No. No you didn't. Shit. I thought it'd be easier to just blame you."
Thomas lay next to him and watched him, chuckling quietly. “No. But sometimes I look in the mirror and it hurts my soul because my booty is ridiculous”
"Well..." Zach let out a huff of air, raising his arms to rest behind his head. "You know, saying things like that are like... encouragement, tempting."
"Every fucking time bro.”
"One of these days I'm going to get slapped for just ogling. But c'mon, it's a compliment. If I'm staring that hard, it's a great ass."
“Right?” Lennon gaped, “It’s like — booty had me like..” he fell back on the ground on a planking position, “It’s like —” he chuckled, “—ridiculously deadly.” he pulled himself up, resting himself on his elbows, “—Wait, who’s booty are we talking about again?”
"No one... Anyone. It... doesn't matter." Zach gave a shrug, hoping the chuckle didn't come out as nervously as it sounded in his head. "A redonkulous booty is a redonkulous booty. Period."
Hello to you, too.
"Did we not get enough of each other before? Or did you just come around to torture me?"
"Booty game too strong?" Mia asked, holding her laughter in, but failing at doing so.
"Yeah, exactly. Literally, too strong. It's dangerous. It could kill a man."
"Bro, don't laugh, you know it happens."
Peter raised a brow, shaking his head. “No I don’t think I’d ever be emotionally in pain becuase of someone’s ass.
"Obviously you haven't seen the right ass. But when you do, you'll feel it and you'll know. That booty is the one. The one to tap tap on the daily." Zach crossed his arms, eyebrows knitting together. "With your hand, I mean. Not like..." His hips surged forward with his arms near his sides, "tap."