I'm 21 years old. Wattpad yearns for my blood. It has me in a death grip chokehold. I cannot escape. I keep returning. The bright orange is a beacon that calls me to it like a bug zapper calls a moth to its inevitable death. We'll see how long I last. It's been 8 years so far. I was just a young lass, when my mind knew a freedom that will now forever be tainted with the taste of mafia/billionaire/badboy/alpha/arranged-marriage/grumpyxsunshine/etc tags. Will I make it to full frontal lobe development at this rate? Who's to say. If I don't update this bio after 5 years, the scientists have found me and I'm being experimented on. Don't come looking for me, it's probably for the best. May what comes from their research help you all recover one day.