17.

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Attempt#2 to publish this.

Hopefully it works this time.
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Mission‌ ‌‌'get him to open the damn door where we can finally have a conversation face to face so that I can actually figure out why the fuck are there critters doing somersaults in my stomach whenever I think of him'‌‌ ‌has‌ ‌officially‌ ‌launched.‌ ‌ ‌

Is‌ ‌the‌ ‌name‌ ‌a‌ ‌little‌ ‌too‌ ‌lengthy?‌ ‌Well,‌ ‌it's‌ ‌a‌ ‌work‌ ‌in‌ ‌progress.‌ ‌ Just like my attempts to get him to open said door.


Day 1:

Bang.‌ ‌Bang.‌ ‌Bang.‌ ‌

"Arthit‌ ‌open‌ ‌the‌ ‌door.‌ ‌I‌ ‌really‌ ‌need‌ ‌to‌ ‌use‌ ‌the‌ ‌restroom."‌ ‌

"Nope.‌ ‌Use‌ ‌that‌ ‌drink‌ ‌cup‌ ‌of‌ ‌yours‌ ‌if‌ ‌you‌ ‌need‌ ‌to‌ ‌pee‌ ‌so‌ ‌bad."‌ ‌


Day 2:

‌Bang.‌ ‌Bang.‌ ‌Bang.‌ ‌ ‌

"Arthit‌ ‌open‌ ‌the‌ ‌door.‌ ‌Your‌ ‌apartment‌ ‌is‌ ‌on‌ ‌fire."‌ ‌

"Nope.‌ ‌I‌ ‌have‌ ‌some‌ ‌steaks‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌fridge‌ ‌that‌ ‌need‌ ‌barbecuing‌ ‌anyway."‌ ‌


Day 3:

Bang.‌ ‌Bang.‌ ‌Bang.‌ ‌‌

"Arthit‌ ‌open‌ ‌the‌ ‌door.‌ ‌I'm‌ ‌being‌ ‌hunted‌ ‌by‌ ‌a‌ ‌serial‌ ‌killer."‌

‌‌"Nope.‌ ‌I‌ ‌just‌ ‌bought‌ ‌a‌ ‌black‌ ‌suit‌ ‌and‌ ‌it‌ ‌will‌ ‌be‌ ‌perfect‌ ‌for‌ ‌your‌ ‌funeral."‌ ‌


Day 4:

Bang.‌ ‌Bang.‌ ‌Bang.

‌"Arthit‌ ‌open‌ ‌the‌ ‌door.‌ ‌Michael‌ ‌Jordan‌ ‌is‌ ‌standing‌ ‌in‌ ‌your‌ ‌hallway."‌ ‌

‌"Nope.‌ ‌I'm‌ ‌more‌ ‌of‌ ‌a‌ ‌Lebron‌ ‌guy."‌ ‌


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