Hi, I'm Cassandra. Nice to meet you. Here's what you need to know.. I'm a generally positive person, if I do say so myself. You don't bother me I won't bother you, speaking of being bothered, I don't give a crap about our doomed society's judgements, so if you want to comment about something, see if I care. I don't yell, I don't scream, and I don't raise my voice. I'd like to think I'm a nice person, but I won't hesitate to sass back. I'm sarcastic, and I will give it to you like it is, no sugar coating, no lies. But that's just if it's necessary, I like to not overreact but it's only too much a person can take.
Now here's the thing, I move to another country and meet THE bastard of the century. Never, ever; had I snapped. Until I met Xavier Hastings.
Xavier Hastings, A popular, perfect looking, charming, mysterious, leather-jacket wearing, girl-swooning, guy-envied, rich, sexist bastard.
Oh he made me snap alright, way beyond belief. Especially, for a 'hippie'. That's what he calls me. Weird, right? wait till you hear the whole story, dude.
*SLOW UPDATES ATM*
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