Dear Diary | Moodie;

[58: FINAL?]

kinda long, may be confusing
also idk if this makes any sense i made each little section on its own so it might not fit together honestly i dont care bye fucksticks

Our weird bird assignment got an A, but we didn't stop talking and hanging out with the occasional kiss here and there. His parents never stopped hating me with every ounce of their being, but he never went back home either. He stayed with his aunt, and when she had to move, he stayed with me. He stayed with me for three years, before we both decided it wasn't fair to my parents to have a 19 and 20 year old live with them forever. We both moved out. We gathered our savings and bought a somewhat small apartment together.

In the time spent together in our makeshift home, we learned each other's talents and tried to make money off them. His career was taking off thanks to Pete Wentz, while mine had started a while ago thanks to myself and iTunes. When I was asked to go on tour with Fall Out Boy and Wiz Khalifa, I dragged Max along. He wasn't originally going to even be on the stage, but I insisted he at least got to play as an opening act. Thankfully, they agreed.

Both of us had enough money now to buy and share an actual house together, one in Hell's Kitchen, New York, Max's hometown. However, his parents lived in the same town. They stopped by, pretended nothing bad had ever happened, and wanted to stay for dinner. I kicked them out.

We went on a double date with one of my friends and his girlfriend. She insulted Max, and told both of us we were sinning by dating. My friend decided to leave with her. He called us the next day, apologized, and said they broke up. He said he wanted to make it up to us and invited us to his house for a movie marathon. We had an amazing time.

Times came where we would fight, one of us would stay at the house, the other would go to a friend's. The next day was always the hardest, it seemed, because no one was there to wake me up with good morning kisses, no one helped me make breakfast after having a flour fight, and no one was there to comfort me when I cried because of how stupid I was. Whoever stayed home always seemed to cave in and call first.

It was our five-year anniversary. Max wanted everything to be perfect. He had a plan, but I didn't know what it was at the time. He insisted that he took control of everything. That night, when I got home from the studio, he ran up and blindfolded me. He kept muttering how it was exactly how he pictured. He led me to the dining room, where a candle-lit dinner was set up. Max had even gone to the trouble of making our favorite Indian dishes. The food tasted delicious, but I knew this wasn't over. Max was shaking, fidgety, and all around nervous. He got up from his side of the table, and stood next to me. He spoke, "Steven– I– Fuck, this is a lot easier in fanfiction– I, um... Fuck it." He got down on one knee and said five little words that made me feel I was flying. "Steven, will you marry me?"

Our wedding was ten months later and it went perfectly. Max's parents didn't show up, but we were both extremely happy. Our friends and fans were all very excited and congratulatory. Our lives were going smoothly for once.

HEY YO THAT'S PROBABLY THE END OF THIS BOOK?? IDK COMMENT IF YOU WANT AN EPILOGUE OR SOMETHING BYE