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    Dearest Indifferent You,

    I cried noisy, angry tears today.
    My eyeballs are pulsing with grief.

    I said, Hi.
    You said, Bye.

    I love you.
    Let me say it again.
    I love you.
    I ell-oh-vee-ee why-oh-you.

    My love for you is true.
    The sound of our heartbeats are one.
    I am blooming before your very eyes —
    I am just not sure into what as yet.

    Last night I rang your doorbell.
    You opened the door.
    “I lov — ” I began.
    You slammed the door on my face.

    I am in pain.
    I am in despair.
    I gnash my teeth.
    My molars are cracked.

    But I will never give up.

    Yours in torment,

    You Know Whooo

    8
    6

    Nihao Oppa! Why are your crying? Did YY make you cry. YY be nice to oppa. We only have one Lee Min Ho in this world

    5
    1

Chapter 8 of my book out is out. Cameos by: @ndlessjoie, @leetennant and LMH. Scroll down…

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Chapter 7 of my book is out. Dedicated to @katakwasabi and SSR. Scroll down…

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    CHAPTER 7: THE CANDY AND THE FOREHEAD

    “You can stay here till you’re well enough to go home.” He rakes a hand through his hair.

    Home? That crappy rooftop? Are you kidding?

    Home is here. With you, babe.

    But, of course, I can’t say that, can I? My babe’s looking frazzled. There are purplish rings under his eyes. The bruise on his forehead glowers at me. My heart aches. Don’t you fret, babe. I’m here now. I’ll take care of you. I’ll —-

    —- Mumble mumble —-

    He’s grunting something, staring at a point above my head. He is resolutely trying not to lock eyes with me. Because he knows one glance would shatter that resolve of his. He is weak around me.

    “What was that, babe?” All that stuff before? Water under the bridge. We’re puzzle pieces, two halves of a whole. I am him, and he is —–

    —— “Victoria understands.”

    What?

    I go still. Frozen. My rosebud lips shrivel, tighten to a thin line. My nostrils flare. I am frothing white breath, and it’s not even winter. I am that angry.

    I am mad. Shaking with fury. If I were a zombie, I would hurl myself at him right now, sink my teeth into that neck, rip out that lousy two-timing heart —–

    I snap my eyes to the coward.

    His chest is heaving and he’s looking at me with wide Bambi eyes. He looks like he might run out the door and never come back.

    I growl. He jumps. I stomp to the doorway and plant my body there. He’d have to kill me to get past me. And there’s not a chance of that happening. Because I’d kill him first.

    I let out a little breathy huff.

    “Victoria knows about us?”

    “About you.” He winces. “There is no us. Remember? I thought I made it clear that…” He’s upset. Naturally. Denying your heart’s desire is a painful thing. His mouth is a slash of tension. His jaw is clenched so tight I know there’s a hairline fracture there with my name on it. An X-ray technician will be astounded to see the word CANDY etched into his bones one day.

    Poor babe.

    Just like that, my rage evaporates.

    I look long and deep into his eyes. Two black pools of pain. Loving me has done this to him. It’s tearing him up.

    I need to show him that I understand. That our mouths may not be able to say it out loud, but our actions can. We belong together. I am Babe. Babe is me. Babe and Candy. It has a nice ring to it. Like Heathcliff and Catherine.

    “I’ll take a shower,” I say, soft and sweet. “Thank you for everything.” I droop my head like a bruised little flower. Loll it from side to side, like a zombie. He lets out a yelp. Babe’s so nervy. His passion for me is taking such a toll on him.

    “I’ll be out of here…” I squeeze out a tear, let it roll down my right cheek. “Just as soon as I’m done…”

    He stares at me. A sad little kitten. Unwanted. Unloved. Womp. Womp.

    “Okay, I’ll leave you to it then,” he turns, but not before I see something flit across his face. Relief? No-uh. It must have been sadness. The door closes softly. Yep. Definitely sadness.

    10
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    I squirt a whole bottle of lavendar shower gel over me. Dump a bottle of lavendar shampoo on my hair. I scrub and scratch every inch of my body till every clump of caked mud is gone. Then I throw myself on the wet tiles and roll about, scour my body up and down and side to side till I feel my skin tingle and smart. Sometimes, you get these pesky little bits and pieces of slime and dirt and grass that tend to stick in the most awkward parts. I once carried a bug’s severed head with me for three weeks, can you believe it? It was wedged between my third and fourth toes.

    I almost scream when I see my reflection in the mirror. My hair is so long I don’t look like myself anymore. I look a wild-eyed, jagged-haired stranger. I don’t recognize this person.

    “WHO ARE YOU?” I shout. This thing in the mirror opens her mouth so big it scares me. Her eyes are two glittering holes of hate. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO CANDY” I bellow.

    Oh, wait. It’s me —-

    Geez. Lost it for a moment.

    Candy is cute.

    I don’t look cute.

    I don’t look like Candy.

    Bad. This is very bad.

    I need to do something fast. I’m competing for my babe’s heart. Against beautiful, elegant Victoria, with her perfect face and her perfect hair.

    I spot the pair of scissors in a plastic holder and I know what I have to do.

    I pull down a hank of hair over my forehead, and snip it off.

    The eyes in my reflection are crazy big and maniacal.

    But I look beautiful. I love me.

    I’m back. Me. Candy. Cute, sweet Candy.

    My new bangs are slightly crooked. Never mind. I’ll snip them to even them out.

    Damn. The right is a bit too long. I grit my teeth —– I need to see a dentist soon, all this teeth gnashing is harming my molars —– and snip again.

    I snip and snip and snip.

    Ten minutes later.

    I stand back and beam at myself in the mirror.

    I look so cute.

    Picture this. You’re a kid and your frugal mom, who only goes to the salon to get her own hair done, puts a bowl over your head and cuts beneath the rim.

    That’s what I see smiling back at me.

    I look like I got my hair cut by bending too close to a shredder.

    And there are four layers to the bangs, somehow. My bangs are spiky little wisps that wave at me exactly 0.05 cm from the edge of my scalp.

    My forehead is a smooth gleaming desert, my bangs the scrubs.

    Damn, I look good.

    I open the door. Step into the living hall.

    “Babe.”

    He’s standing directly in front of an open window.

    He swings his head to me, and I gasp.

    He’s showered and changed, and his hair is a curtain of dark, thick silk blanketing his forehead.

    He’s snuffed out his forehead.

    My babe is spotting bangs. Just like me.

    Oh, my God.

    He’s telling me what I already know.

    We are bangs-spotting soulmates. Two halves of a puzzle. We fit. Candy and Babe. Babe and Candy. He is me. I am him.

    11
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    “Babe.” I step out of the shadows.

    He blinks. Takes a step backward. His hair slaps against his forehead, a black band strapped against his skin. Oddly familiar. I watched a drama called Perfume once. Shin Sung Rok navigated the ups and downs of his life with the same impenetrable wall, he hid the love in his heart and the pain of his past, barricading himself behind his forehead fortress for 16 episodes. Like my babe and (Hey, kat! What’s up, buddy?) —— W-what was that?? This just flashed into my head —–

    I blink back my tears. Oh, babe. I see you. That hair can’t shield you. I see what you’re trying to hide.

    “What do you think of my hair?” My voice is a husky whisper. I spin. Blow a breath.

    He’s staring at me. His eyes open wide. He’s got his entire soul compressed in those orbs and they’re the colour of love.

    Silence.

    Then: “You look…” A pause, pregnant with emotion “….g-great.” A slight tremor. His face contorts, as if he is in pain. The way a man looks when he’s confronted with beauty he’s stupidly rejecting out of noble idiocy.

    Is that all he has to say? I am tempted to push him through the open window. He must have sensed this, because he steps three paces off to the side before adding, “You have a large enough forehead that you can get away with short bangs.” He claps a hand over his mouth the moment he says this. He looks a little shaken. He’s allowed my beauty to make him waiver, to say things he shouldn’t. It’s tantamount to a confession.

    Oh, babe.

    He’s so sweet I’m floored.

    I draw a huge lungful of breath and the effort makes my eyebrows arch so high, they nearly touch my bangs. “You look good, too, babe.”

    My eyes well with tears.

    “That covered forehead looks absolutely stunning on you.” My voice breaks.

    He makes a strange keening sound.

    My babe is so overwhelmed he can’t say a word.

    11
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      I’m just happy SSR is not candy’s new victim. Phew.

      I don’t feel sorry for babe anymore, he should have ran away eons ago. I dunno why he’s still around crazy candy 🤔.

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      Candy creeps me out more and more 😬

      When will the cats make another cameo? 😿

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      *waver, not waiver*

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      She’s still hallucinating I see.

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        She must be in a coma. I can’t reason it any other way.

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          Could be she took the blue pill? And YY, as the architect, built different rules based on kdrama tropes.

          Where’s Neo?

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          You’re the doctor! 👍🏼

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      Chapter 8 coming up – will we get the traditional emotional content of kdrama episode 8? And what YY twist will we get?

      And when I read “ The bruise on his forehead glowers at me. “ I flashed this image of the inner third eye opening Highlighted by purple bruises like eyeliner… just a bit bloodshot.

      And when I read “a strange keening sound” why did I flash an image of robot innards shredding? Hmmm…

      And a question – is hair like shrubs at the edge of a desert an improvement over hair like a halo of dried ramen noodles? Or is Candy’s head a judgement free zone?

      And why do I imagine the Vagabond team in desert camouflage stepping out of the shrubs?

      5
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        Perhaps the twist will be that Victoria and Candy discover a love for each other after realizing that Cold Hot CEO isn’t all they thought he was? Or they each get their very own CHCEO because he really is triplets?

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          What if Victoria and Candy are step sisters and Candy was abandoned and she can’t remember anything before she was 8? Candy lost her memory in a car accident cause by Babe’s dad that happened while Babe was in the back seat? I’m missing some childhood connection.

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            This is highly likely 😂

            Mr A Babe is so full of guilt that he’s been watching/suffering over Candy all these years. That’s probably why he bailed her out of jail instead of feeding her to Sicarius.

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            Where does the bandaid come in? Usually in these childhood meetings, there is a cute bandaid involved!

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      I wonder if Candy should try playing an instrument or singing to melt Me A Babe’s heart completely. Or a musical face-off with Victoria.

      (I may later regret writing this).

      4
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      But when do I get to kill somebody.

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    Poor Mr Babe, I just want him to get out of there! Maybe find a new identity and go into hiding from candy.
    Loving Candy’s new hair cut, did you see my message about how I hacked my hair the other day? I guess if you look from the right angle, it is a decent cut 🙂

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      I missed that, ayan, lol. It happened to me, I decided to cut my bangs because it was so long, and it seemed like the easiest thing to do. Just trim with a pair of scissors, how hard could that be, right. I snipped and hair flew all over the sink. So I wetted my bangs, and snipped again. But wetted hair clumps together. Then I had to spread it out. It dried, but shrank by like a cm. So horrific. I kept snipping and snipping because when it dried, the ends weren’t even. By the time I was done, it was a disaster. Went to work, and my co-worker stared at me, and said, “You cut your bangs.” And then she added, “Never mind. Hair grows real fast.” I had to walk around with my head down for two weeks.

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        The worst thing was I had to stand in front of a room and do a presentation. The silence that greeted me, the eyes that stayed on my forehead for an hour…I still cringe when I think of it.

        1
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          Never let them see you bleed.

          That was my motto and bottom line attitude when I was in the mode of giving presentations.

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        Yeah the bangs are the hardest to do! But it will grow back!!
        The first few days are hard but people will forget!

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Chapter 6 of my book is out! Dedicated to @sicarius. Scroll down…

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    CHAPTER 6: CANDY AND THE NINJA

    “Hello?” I whisper. “Babe, is that you?”

    “Candy…?” Hesitant. “You’re in jail…? But, how —– ” Because it’s all your damn fault, you dummy!

    I breathe in. Breathe out. Stay calm now, Candy. I’ve got to butter him up. Make him feel bad.

    I pitch my voice two notches higher.

    “It’s a long story,” my voice is wobbling. I don’t even have to fake it. Because I’m shivering. My knees are knocking together. My goosebumps are popping up all over my back. Which is kind of a nice surprise —– I’d thought THAT part of my anatomy was dead. So, yay.

    “Can you get me out of here?” A burst of icy wind rushes in from the open window. “I’m – I’m s-scared…” The tremor in my voice is real. My bones are quaking. My teeth are chattering.

    “Candy…” His voice has softened even more. It’s working. His heart is breaking. He must be blaming himself. I give myself a silent high-five. I. Am. So. Good.

    Here’s the thing.

    Everyone knows a Candy would die rather than admit that she’s afraid. So for me to actually say it out LOUD, to HIM, no less —- well, it’s a HUGE deal. Earth-shattering, in fact. C’mon, it takes like 12 episodes to TRUST the hero enough to acknowledge your weaknesses in a typical prideful Candy-centred drama! And that I’m telling him now? It’s BIG. A giant step forward in our relationship, and it marks a shift —– hold on, he’s mumbling something —–

    “I’m sorry, but I really can’t do this with you anymore…”

    What????

    He’s supposed to say he’s coming to bust me out of jail like right now!

    “We have nothing…” His voice shrinks. A bad connection. Or maybe it’s the blood pounding in my head. I could kill him. I could seriously K I L L him right now. His voice returns, hard in my ear, “…I’m sorry…” Shrivels again. I want to T H R O T T L E him, put my hands around his throat and
    S Q U E E Z E —–

    A second later, he’s at full volume. “Please don’t contact me anymore —– ”

    “Babe, I miss you,” I cut in.

    Fast-thinking, that’s me.

    A Candy’s gotta do what a Candy’s gotta do. I can’t just lie back and whimper. Yoda whispers in my ear every night: “Do, or do not. There is no try.” Sometimes, I murmur back. And when I’m in a good mood, I hold longer conversations with him.

    I hear you, Yoda. Loud and clear.

    I’m going to fight for every inch of my babe. Even if it kills me. Or him.

    A beat of silence.

    Then: “Candy…” A sigh. I can hear him breathing.

    “Babe, I miss…” And it spouts from me in a torrent, water pluming from a drain. Or a burst pipe, like the one in my kitchen.

    “I miss your eyebrows.”

    “I miss your smile.” His mouth twitching, trying so hard to resist my allure. And failing each time.

    “I miss your nostrils.” The way they flare, breathe in my intoxicating scent of rank sweat, stale onions and cheap soap.

    “I miss your throat.” The desperate bobbing of his Adam’s apple, fighting in vain for some semblance of control.

    “I miss your stubble.” The feel of it. Scratchy, like sandpaper. The perfect foil for the smattering of blackheads on my chin.

    “Your butt.” Apple-shaped. Toned, but not overly.

    “Your forehead.”

    “Your chest.”

    “Your abs.”

    “Your legs.”

    “Your veins.”

    “Your cheekbones.”

    “Your teeth.”

    A pause.

    “I miss you so much.”

    Another pause.

    I love you. I am about to say it, but I stop myself in time.

    Candy doesn’t say I LOVE YOU till Episode 14. That’s safe. I think. If she says it early, like around Episode 8, you can be sure all hell is going to break loose, and she’ll fall down the stairs, knock her head and develop amnesia. Or the guy will fall down the stairs, knock HIS head, and develop amnesia. So, yeah, I’m not going to jinx myself here.

    There’s a silence, long and deep. I breathe.

    “But, Candy,” he tells me, gently, “you —- ”

    A click.

    The line goes dead.

    “WHAT THE HELL!” I shout.

    “Time’s up,” the guard shrugs.

    “In here.” The guard unlocks the cell.

    I feel my skin prickle. Eyes are watching me. I sidle in, keeping my head down. I’ve watched a ton of prison dramas and movies, okay? The trick is to play smart and keep a low profile.

    The door clangs shut.

    I stare at my feet. Stay calm. Don’t panic. Start counting. One. Two. Three. Four —–

    “Hey.”

    I freeze.

    “Hey, you down there.”

    My head swings up. Slowly.

    There’s someone sitting up there. Like wayyyyy up there. Perched up high on the wall, legs crossed.

    “Hey,” I whisper. Swallow.

    “I’m Sic. Who’re you?” She’s got on a black balaclava. Like a ninja. Maybe she’s a ninja. Maybe that’s how she got up there.

    “I’m Candy.” Swallow again. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

    “Ma’am?” She cracks up, her shouders shaking.

    “Ha-ha. Ha-ha,” I join in her laughter desperately. She stops laughing. Fixes me with a stare that chills me to the bone.

    “Why are you laughing?”

    “Uh. I was just —- uh, happy to meet you.” My palms are sweating.

    “My name is Sic.”

    “Okay. Sure…Sic.” Breathe. “Whatever you say, Sic.”

    “What are you in for?”

    “Being a public nuisance. Destroying private and public property. You?” I say timidly.

    “Shitposting.”

    “Uh, okay.”

    “Do you know what shitposting is?”

    “No.” I dart my eyes toward the cell door. Where’s the guard? “Not really.”

    “Don’t you want to ask what shitposting is? Don’t you even want me to EXPLAIN WHAT SHITPOSTING IS?” She is shouting. Oh, God. Help. Get me out of here, please. Somebody. Anybody. And —-

    —– she’s standing. Oh, my God. How’s she even doing that? She’s standing, her feet on the wall, her body bent sideways, parallel to the floor below, like a scene from The Matrix.

    Wait. She WAS standing. She isn’t standing. Not anymore.

    Because —–

    —– she’s taken off with a grunt.

    She’s barrelling into the air, arms glued to her sides. Like Ultraman.

    And then she makes six convulated loops, stretches out her arms wide, makes a turn, and plunges down. Headed straight for me.

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    She lands with a loud THUMP that rattles the walls, her bare feet arrowed to the floor.

    Right in front of me.

    Like one, short stride from me.

    “Candy.” A snarl.

    She takes one step forward, and we’re nose to nose.

    My blood curdles.

    “Hey, Sic,” I squeak.

    “Candy.”

    “Y-yes, S-sic?”

    Sic stretches out a black-gloved hand, palms up. “Watch.” Wriggles her fingers, and ——-

    C R E A K

    ——– a blade pushes out off the tip of her index finger. Slowly. Noisily.

    It’s coated with brown stuff. I squint to see better.

    It’s R U S T.

    CREAK CREAK CREAK CREAK CREAK CREAK CREAK CREAK CREAK

    It takes ten excruciating minutes and 55 seconds —– I counted —– but, finally, it’s out.

    I’ve never seen a sadder, rustier blade in my life.

    I open my mouth to tell Sic to get a tetanus jab ASAP, but before I can say anything ——

    “You in the boxers.”

    I turn.

    The guard’s unlocking the door.

    The door clacks open.

    “But who —— how —– ”

    The guard shrugs.

    “Gentleman there bailed you out.”

    There’s someone standing in the middle of the hallway. Tall, straight, a glimmer of purple and red in the middle of his forehead, shimmering like a third eye.

    It’s him.

    M. A. Babe.

    MY babe.

    “Candy.”

    “Babe,” I whisper. “You came.”

    I burst into tears.

    10
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The Metamorphosis of LT
“…from stone cold indifference to a deafening silence…”
@leetennant @13infamyss @ndlessjoie @katakwasabi @wishfultoki @bbstl @sicarius

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Snapped this candid shot of @azzo1‘s Mr. SNG this morning. Walked right into him, as a matter of fact. His head shot up, and smart-thinking me reached for my phone, and pressed CLICK.

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    Tagging @ally-le because compiling that playlist for azzo was just about the sweetest thing ever. It almost makes me want to un-marry Mr. YY, and re-marry him again, so that you could make a whole new playlist for wistful me.

    @wishfultoki @ndlessjoie @flyingcolours @13infamyss @trinpie @katakwasabi @wapzy To give you something ELSE to talk about, besides that darn t*k. Like seriously, how long has it been, you bunch of sadistic tormentors ???? You guys going to crow about my pain forever????

    10
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      But…I didn’t talk about any toothpick 😱.

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        You spelled out that word, kat “…YY’s (THE WORD) story…” You cannot spell out that word, kat. It is taboo. I break out into hives.

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        You just did, Kat.

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          Yes. I did in an effort to defend myself, I spelled tooth…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….wait……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….for…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..it………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………pick!

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            It’s famy all over again. *GULPS*

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            😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

            Welps. My daughter takes after me. It only makes sense she speaks speak FFL (Fams First Language)

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        You even shared the link for it. 🤣 basically you started this mess.

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      What about my pain that you keep crowing about? 😭😭😭😭😭

      4
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      Perhaps you need an anniversary playlist?

      As for The Swoon Hyung Bin Incident, every time I think about it, it makes me giddy for you. You and @katakwasabi have achieved a fangirl dream level most will never attain.

      6
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      Sparing you…. Never?

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      Thanks for the tag! I also just “liked” every comment on this post. How sweet does that make me?

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    Tagging The Indifferent One @leetennant to provoke a response, and @bbstl @pickleddragon @sicarius and @cloggie, just because I can.

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    He looks pretty calm for a guy less than a week from his wedding day.

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    Is he made of cheese? The Out to Lunch memo takes on a whole different meaning…

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      They do look like American cheese slices. lol. But I think they’re supposed to be Post-it notes.

      5
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Chapter 5: GUILTY CANDY is out. Scroll down…

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    CHAPTER 5: GUILTY CANDY

    “You have been charged with…” the officer yawns “Theft, being a public nuisance, and destruction of private and public property.”

    “Public property? What —- ”

    “That mound is missing 50 per cent of its top grass.”

    He stares at my fingers pointedly.

    I follow his eyes.

    There is something trapped under my fingernails. Something wet. Green.

    Grass.

    Oops.

    The officer slides his chair back and mumbles, “Wait here.”

    He walks past a big beefy guy in a tank top with forearms the size of tree trunks and the beefy guy pulls him in for a tight hug and he nuzzles his nose in the beefy guy’s neck and the beefy guy giggles. I rub my head. A headache is building. It’s Forest all over again.

    “Hey.”

    I drag my eyes back.

    “Want a sip?”

    A bored-looking lady is in the chair next to me. She taps the glass of red bubbly in her hand.

    “Isn’t it a bit early?” Wait. What time is it? Evening? Night? Morning? It’s a blur.

    She shrugs. “I thought you might need it. Misery loves company.”

    “Are you miserable?” She doesn’t look unhappy. She just looks —- bored.

    “Not me.” She takes a delicate sip. “Him.”

    There’s a guy there in handcuffs. He’s wearing a black leather jacket with L and T emblazoned, stretched across his rippling back, crying, and babbling, “LT, I love you, I love you…”

    He lifts his head, and omg, it’s – it’s Lee Min Ho!

    “It’s Lee Min Ho!” I gasp.

    “Who?” she frowns.

    “That guy! The guy who’s looking at you like – like…what on earth did you do to him?”

    “I haven’t the faintest idea.” She shrugs. “I’m just living my life, minding my own business, and the next thing I know, he’s barged into it. He posted a bunch of emo pictures on IG, and people are saying I broke his heart when…” A long, deep sigh. “I don’t even know how it got to this point…”

    He shouts, “Turn around and look at me, LT! Look at me! Don’t ignore me!”

    “See what I mean?” She shudders, takes another sip. “I filed a restraining order against him.”

    “What?”

    “That’s why I’m here.” She gets to her feet. “I’m off. Bye.”

    There is a commotion at the door, as LMH suddenly breaks free and dives to the floor in front of her, rolls a few metres down and collides with a wall.

    “Puh-lease,” LT mutters. Sidesteps him smoothly. And then she’s out the door, high heels click-clacking away, fading into the distance.

    Three men pounce on LMH and haul him to his feet, as he howls, “NO. NO. NO. Don’t go. Don’t leave me, LT!”

    A wild-eyed girl appears out of nowhere and throws herself at him, shrieking like a banshee.

    She’s wearing a T-shirt which screams, in red: MINOZ FAMY ❤ LMH 4EVA.

    A bunch of cops wrestle her to the ground, as LMH shouts, “I want a restraining order against HER!”

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