In a room full of art

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Hey Fantastic Followers!

So, this *magical* chapter will be a little bit longer than usual... But it'll be worth it, trust me. I could break it into two parts, but I kind of want it to have the feeling of "it all happened in one night", you know?

Brace yourselves Theby shippers!

Xo,
Pri

~

I get home from my... Ice cream Date (?) with Avi, and tell my dad I'm going upstairs. He suggests a GoT marathon and I say yes, partly because I have to catch up on some episodes I'm behind on and partly because I have nothing better to do on a Friday night. One thing's for sure: No more clubs for a while.

Even though it feels weird to be going to my room at 7:00pm to put on my PJ's, I go upstairs anyway, and put on my lazy pajamas, the ones I put on when I don't care about my looks. Like, I have cute PJ's, short shorts that make me feel sexy, or a big flannel shirt that works fabulously with a messy bun in case I'm skyping with someone or want to look effortlessly pretty in a sleepover. But none of those are special enough to binge watch Game of Thrones, so today I get the old camisole that was supposed to be a dress, but I grew too much for, and is now more like a big shirt, but I use it as a dress anyway. It's full of stains left from foods and drinks that were left there from the past five years. But who gives a shit?

"Honey, popcorn?" Dad asks from downstairs.

"Yeah!" I shout back.

My phone rings, the number is unidentified.

"Hello?"

"Hey. It's Theo."

"Oh, hi. What's up?"

"Hey, umm, this may sound a bit random. Do you like art?"

"Uh, yeah, do you like breathing?"

He chuckles. "I mean like, painting art. Like art galleries and stuff."

"Yeah, that's what I was talking about. Why do you ask?"

"Well, there's this gallery opening tonight and I really wanted to go, but Ziggy and mom are at the mall shopping, again, and Mayla thinks these things are boring. She completely hates it."

"She... She hates art?"

"Yeah. She hates a lot of things; but she does like het pop music."

I laugh.

"She tells me it's stupid to just stand there looking at a painting that was made hundreds of years ago. She says, "what's the point in staring at it? It's not gonna change if you see it in person, I'm sure you can see it online"." His voice seems disapproving, but kind. "Anyway, I usually go with Zigs, but she's busy, so... You don't have to go. I mean, it's Friday, you pro--"

"I'll be ready in five! Can you pick me up?"

"I'll be there in ten." His voice smiles.

I hang up and run downstairs to tell my dad about the change of plans.

Dad's fine with it, he'll use this time to watch all the cooking shows he loves, (and I completely hate) that are quite accumulated in our recording list in the TV.

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