"troye sivan, you've been served." the man in a black coat says, handing me a folder. i clench my jaw, taking it. "all i did was spill a coffee on the bloke, it's not like i fucked his mother in hindsight."
"mum!" "i want this!" "no! i want this!" i fuss, throwing a fit in the middle of the mall. foot stomping, shoulder shaking, flushed cheeks, i went all out. "quit it tok! or i'm gonna call krampus on you!" dad scolds. never did i think he actually would.
just take my hand and hold your pretty head high. we can do this, you and me.