I look up at the ceiling and sigh again, taking a breath of the cigarette. Girls are so complicated. I take her hand again but don't look at her, "I don't give off vibes, sweetheart. Stop trusting them."
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
The grand in the hotel rings with broken tunes; the guests frown; the concierge winces. But the blue-hatted boy is happy and braver than they. — TheMythMaster