𝟎𝟓𝟏. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

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THE REAL INFLUENCE
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ chapter fifty-one,
Gilmore Girls — Season Three

October 3rd, 2002( on october 3rd, he asked me what day it was

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October 3rd, 2002
( on october 3rd, he asked me what day it was . . . it's october 3rd hehehe )

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[ LUCY'S POV ]

WHAT DO YOU THINK?

This question has been said eight times over the past four days, and each time, I get the same response of "Shh". I can't say I'm surprised, especially since I ask it repeatedly in the space of ten minutes, but I have every right to know.

I sit across from my cousin── the one who has read all eight of my trial essays over the past four days. While I appreciate his help, the look on his face always remains neutral. He doesn't look pleased, satisfied or amused by any of my essays, and every time he reads one, he just puts it down on the table and says... "It's fine."

   I stare at him blankly, contemplating strangling him to death. "It's fine?" I mock, raising my hands to express my frustration. "You've said that about every single one. Can't you tell me anything else?"

   He hums, tapping his fingers against the wooden table in the apartment. His foot hits the hardwood floor several times, and I can see that he's just trying to stall── probably because he can't think of a lie to tell me.

   I sigh, leaning back in my chair, defeated and exhausted. "They aren't good, are they?"

   "Like I said, they're fine..." I look over at him, really hoping he'll give me something else, and he does this time around. "But──"

   I clap my hands together. "Ha! I knew there was a but," I interrupt, a little too excited about receiving some hopefully helpful advice. "Sorry. Continue."

   "They're all missing something," he tells me bluntly, and I nod, understanding him, but still hoping he'll continue to criticise. I chose Jess to read my essays for college over my dad because, while I love my dad to pieces, Jess and I have a very brutal, honest relationship── one that is full of love and hatred. We co-exist together, live in the same space, and we tell each other the harsh truth even though it hurts. Dad would praise me regardless on how bad my essay is, but Jess knows how to criticise. He knows how to piss me off, and he does a splendid job, but I really appreciate the brutality in his honesty when writing my college essays.

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