In which I am you, you are me, and we are the moments that define us.

❝I- what? What are you talking about? Who is this?❞ ❝Well the bathroom stall says that this number is the gateway to a good time, and unless you're trying to say that a bathroom stall is lying to me, I think I need a little more information to be sold. Do you have like a yelp page I could look up? Past customer reviews? How many stars out of five?❞ ❝What are yo- oh my god, I'm going to fucking kill Marie.❞ (alternatively called: a lot of people shit with pens) written in dialogue // cover by xhemmingshugsx

The next December, they were apart. [Sequel to December]

"I have a few guidelines for you, but don't worry it's not rocket science: 1. Do not talk too much around me. 2. Do not laugh obnoxiously around me. 3. Do not ask me too many questions. 4. Do not get into any trouble and drag me into it. 5. Do not interfere with my personal life. Do you think you can do this?" I'm not that bad of a person. I can follow rules, I mean I've been a good student since like kindergarten. "Seems easy enough." Like really, I'm not that bad. "One more thing," Alex looks at me straight in the eye, "never kick me in places that shouldn't be kicked. Ever. Again." Okay, maybe I'm not the best person in the world.

Hudson Ellis is good at his job. Somehow, he manages not to annoy people when he knocks at their doors and asks them to contribute to the charity he works for - instead, he gets them to sign up for sponsoring programmes and fish whatever spare change they have out of their pockets. Even the infamously tough residents of New York City are falling victim to Hudson's easy-going ways and wide smile; that is, until one woman renders him speechless with sarcastic refusals and slams her door in his face. Perhaps Hudson would be able to forget her - if it wasn't for the fact that she lives on the same floor of the next apartment over, and they both have floor-to-ceiling windows that allow for a rather generous view into each other's flats.

❝Don't think for a minute that this was love. Signed, Jenna❞ This is the story of Conrad and Jenna. And these are Jenna's letters to him: her correspondence to a jerk. [highest ranking: short story # 56 (08/27/2016)] Sequel included. Three years later Jenna discovers several more letters that she never "sent" and takes it upon herself to read through them.

There are so many things she wants to tell him. But she can't, so she writes them instead.