(i am bored so) Trixie took the bus every morning, worked an office job, and went back to her mediocre apartament every afternoon. It was a repetitive yet comforting routine. Could be better, could be worse. Could and would. (i really just listened to heather by conan gray and went yep i will write a fanfic yep) (Title, cover, desc and overall story might change, but the writing will remain consistenly bad ;] ) (also, will be updated every blue moon)
4 parts