"Wow man, thanks for supporting me. I'll make sure to not let you enter my first concert." She gets up angrily and starts walking towards my bathroom. My bathroom. Why is she going there? 


"Viana..." I trail off, suddenly feeling guilty.


"No. You fuck off." She almost enters the bathroom, when I pull her to me.


No, she doesn't lose her balance and fall on me. This isn't a book.


She looks away, pouting.


I have a sudden urge to kiss that little, pink pout, but I bite my lip and then release it quickly, an action of controlling myself.


"Listen, I'm sorry. You sing pretty well considering you're not trained." I try to cheer her up, and my attempts are successful.


She instantly smiles, lightly.


"Okay now listen to this rad song I just came across!" She starts singing, no scratch that. Shouting, and that's how I spend my entire evening, bleeding from my ears.


~~~


Princess: Oiii mah home boiiii


Hearing a ping, I glance at my phone, to see a message from Ian on iMessage. Doesn't she have a life?


I get up from my push up position, wiping the sweat off my forehead with a rough, yellow towel. Ew, yellow. Hate that color.


Me: What do you want?


Princess: Guess what?????


Me: No.


Princess: -___-


I laugh to myself.


Me: Okay, what?


Princess: Oliver asked me out on a dateeeeeeee <3


Who's Oliver?


Do I look like I care?


You do.


My inner Ryker speaks to me, and I punch his jaw internally.


Me: That French guy?


Princess: Yupyupyupyup


Me: Why do you date people from different backgrounds? Your last one was from Africa, and the one before him, was Pakistani.

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