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It's been years since I last watched Grease, and I have a sudden urge to watch it again

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It's been years since I last watched Grease, and I have a sudden urge to watch it again.

The fact 'Hopelessly Devoted To You' has been stuck on a loop in my head all morning, involuntarily. She's been singing it on repeat.

It's most definitely her favorite song, because even though she sings nowhere near as often anymore compared to when I first heard her, it's the one song she will continue to fit into her daily routine.

A week hasn't gone by where she hasn't sung along to it.

And you'd think I'd get bored of hearing it, but it puts me into a trance when she does.

Nothing else matters.

It's so peculiar, because although I can hear her in my head, I don't know her voice.

You'd assume I'd be able to pick her out of a crowd, and if she was singing one of the songs I've heard her sing on repeat, then I guess I'd be able to piece two and two together.

But other than that, I don't have a clue. So I won't know when I meet them. Not until they-

Ouch.

"What the fuck was that for?" I divert my trance on the ceiling to glare Mitch who's sitting on the armchair.

"You were ignoring me, you prick." He huffs, throwing his head back in the chair.

Did he just throw a pen at me? Because I was 'ignoring him'?

"Now now boys. Play nice." Sarah rolls her eyes lightly as she walks back into the living room, a glass of water in her hand from the kitchen.

I search the sofa around me to find the pen, pushing my hand down the side until I feel the small piece of hard plastic.

Just as I'm about to throw it back at Mitch, in hopes to hit his head, I chose against it.

My aim isn't the best. I'm pretty good at catching, but not throwing.

And Sarah is leant against him now. So knowing my luck I'd hit her.

And she'd probably beat me.

She can be scary when she wants.

I'd say I feel bad for the poor bastard that marries her. But that will be Mitch and he's lucky to have her.

And I guess in some aspects she's lucky to have him.

I just won't ever boost his ego like that.

"He started it." I sulk, keeping my voice whiny like I'm a four year old child.

"He started it." Mitch mimics back, and I close my eyes so they can't see me rolling my eyes.

"Just piss off Mitch." I cross my arms against my chest, shuffling on the sofa so I'm fully reclined and staring up at the ceiling again.

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