ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝔽𝕠𝕦𝕣

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                                                                                  𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒂 𝑺𝒕. 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏

 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏

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It's been two weeks since school started. Angela and I have been getting to know each other a little more. She's a great person; honestly, I could see us being best friends.

I was a business major courtesy to mumsy, but honestly, I don't mind it. I do believe that you should have a degree to fall back on when you're trying to get into an artist career.

I was taking a math class, some business management class, and an economics class. But, I'm supposed to be taking a fourth class. So, instead of picking a class that lines up with my major, I chose something else.

Arts 1301.

I just couldn't resist it. It's something about art that just pulls me in.

I grab my sketchbook, pencil, and colored pencils for the art class. Today was my first day of class and I was excited.

I hear my dorm door open and I turn to expect Angela, but instead a very tanned man stands in the doorway.

His white shirt is drenched like he was swimming and his breathing was ragged.

An orange liquid drops to the floor.

No fucking way.

"H-Have y-you s-seen, Angela," Ryan asks. He continues to pant like a tired, old dog.

He crouches down to the floor and lies down.

"Are you.....good?" I ask, confused. Because I was genuinely confused.

"I just ran 10 straight miles. With no break and no water," he explains.

He's actually insane.

I look for a weapon around the room just in case this maniac decides to hurt me. I see a pair of scissors by Angela's heels and I grab them, discreetly. I put the scissors in my jacket sleeve.

I slowly walk over to him and look as he tries to catch his breath on the floor. He looks up at me to analyze my face and then he quickly sits up.

"Oh, you're sexy," he says, dropping his voice ten octaves lower. It sounded like he was struggling to swallow something.

He scrunches his eyebrows together, squints his eyes, and purses his lips. Almost like he was trying to smolder.

I chuckle bitterly. "I thought you were in love with Angela," I say.

"I am," he says, getting off the floor. "But that doesn't mean I wanna have the same pussy for the rest of my life."

"Okay, listen Ryan. You're a big boy who lost one of the most amazing girls in the world. You're going to have to get over it. And stop running after her."

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