TW: Self-harm
“Just one more Octopus ride, please!” Lia is trying to convince her friends to stay, to no avail. It’s UP Fair Friday and, in her opinion, the night is still young.
“Babe, we talked about this. I told you I can only stay until 9 PM, didn’t I? It’s almost 9:30, and I still have a shift tomorrow.” That’s Penny.
“You’re a volunteer. It’s not like they’re going to fire you for missing one morning!” Lia counters.
“A commitment is a commitment.” Penny is firm.
“Ugh! I hate commitments,” Lia complained. “Cha?” She continues, giving Cha a pleading look.
“Hey! Don’t talk Cha into staying. You know she’s my ride home,” Penny chastises.
“I’m sorry, Lia. I’m going to puke if you make me ride one more time.” Cha looks ready to pass out.
“Rice hasn’t come on yet! I’m going to stay until she does. Can you really leave me alone here all night?” Lia changes strategy and tries to appeal to her friends’ sympathy instead.
“Yes!” Cha and Penny say in unison. Lia’s plan didn’t work at all.
“We don’t even know what time Rice will come on. My kuya’s gonna kill me if I make him wait for her,” Cha says.
“It’s your choice if you want to stay here alone. You can’t put it on us. We’d stay if we can, but we really have to go. You know that,” Penny says. It’s Lia’s turn to feel guilty.
“We haven’t even tried that Korean corndog thing we came here for. Please stay.” Lia tries one last time, throwing the food card as a last resort to make them stay longer. Their faces say it all. The answer is still a resounding ‘No’.
“Oh, alright!” Lia finally gives up. “Is your kuya here already?” Cha’s older brother, an MA student, will be driving Cha and Penny home.
“Yeah. He just got out of his class.”
“Okay, then. Tell him I said to drive my girls safely home.”
Lia accompanies Penny and Cha to the exit, then hugs them goodbye. She’s not changing her plans. She’s going to stay, at least until Rice comes on. She’s not going home until after she’s seen Rice live. In the meantime, she intends to enjoy herself. She has no idea how, so she decides to ride the Octopus again.
“One ticket please,” she tells the ticket seller. He looks at her funny, as if she’s the only one riding alone. Talk about judgmental people.
When she gets in line, she notices that she is indeed the only person alone. Everybody is in pairs or groups. She feels alone, then. She had never been one for solitude. She hates it. That’s why she tried so hard to convince Penny and Cha to stay. Being alone in a crowd is even worse. It amplifies the loneliness, and becomes suffocating. She is about to leave the line and sit in some corner instead, contemplating whether she really could stay at the Fair alone, when she realizes she is up next. The operator is ushering her into the ride enclosure, helping her up. Because she’s short, she nearly fell twice and had to be caught before she is safely in her basket.
The basket moves and Lia is at the peak of the ride, seemingly lying down and facing the sky. Lia instantly calms down. She hates being alone, but this is familiar. She can pretend she’s back home, lying on the roof accessible through her bedroom window, watching the stars. She can even pretend that the Fair noises are just a nearby Fiesta celebration. It’s really just like being home in the province during the break. The position didn’t last and the basket starts moving again as the ride fills up, but she doesn’t feel suffocated anymore. Just a little sad for being all alone, but otherwise alright.
Suddenly, Lia finds her basket at its starting position. The operator approaches her and opens the locks.
“Mister, I haven’t ridden yet. I just got on,” she panics, thinking that the operator will make her come down already.
“Miss, is it alright if somebody shares the basket with you?” The operator asks. Behind him, Lia can see a tall, lean guy. He smiles.
“Yes. I don’t mind,” Lia answers.
Kiel gets inside the basket with no problem. He smiles at Lia to thank her for sharing her basket. Lia smiles back. But no words are spoken. The ride finally begins.
Kiel gets out of the basket first. He notices that Lia is having a hard time getting off the basket so he offers his arm to her. Lia, knowing that she needs to jump because of her short legs, is glad for the offer. She holds on to Kiel’s arms and jumps from the basket.
“Thank you,” Lia says to Kiel.
“No problem,” Kiel replies.
They go out of the Octopus enclosure and go their separate ways.
Lia doesn’t know what to do next. So, she walks aimlessly among the booths.
“What design do you want?” Lia hears from a nearby booth.
“I don’t really know. I just want to cover up this awful scar.” That catches Lia’s interest. She turns to the two girls standing just outside a booth offering henna tattoos. One of the talking girls has a scar running down the side of her leg. Lia unconsciously clutches at her left forearm.
Lia approaches the booth. She decides she’s getting a henna tattoo tonight. She has nothing else to do, anyway. Might as well try something new. Twenty minutes later, she has flipped through all the designs and still has no idea what tattoo to get. She’s getting frustrated.
Kiel gives his phone to the tattoo artist, showing him the design he wants done.
“Sir, that design is beyond my skills. If you want, you can wait until Jun’s done with his current customer,” the tattoo artist says, pointing to an older man doing an intricate flower design on a girl’s collarbone.
“Alright, I’ll wait,” Kiel says.
“Jun, Sir is next, okay?” The tattoo artist calls to the man called Jun, pointing at Kiel. Jun simply nods.
Kiel decides to look through the design sheets while waiting. He puts down the Korean corndog he’s eating as he reaches for one of the binders. Lia looks up as she sees the Korean corndog in her periphery. She’s been looking for that booth.
“Hey, where did you get the corndog?” Lia asks. “Hey! It’s you again,” she says as Kiel turns to her.
“Oh, hey. You’re here, too,” Kiel replies, recognizing Lia. “The booth is near the freedom wall. You’re getting a tattoo, too?”
“Yes. But I can’t choose a design from any of these,” Lia sweeps her hand, indicating the design sheets.
“You don’t have to pick from those. They do any design here.”
“What do you mean? I can have my own design?”
“Yes. See, I drew my own.” Kiel whips out his phone to show Lia the design he made.
“Hey, that’s really good,” Lia says, impressed. “I wish I can draw, too.”
“Thanks,” Kiel replies. “It’s just practice.”
“Nah. Not for me,” Lia replies. She turns away from Kiel, looking at her hands. She shoves them in her jean pockets immediately, annoyed. But Kiel already saw. They’re shaking.
“If you want, I can whip up something for you too.” Kiel opens a blank page on his phone and pulls out his stylus. Kiel doesn’t get why, but there is a feeling in his guts that he badly wants to draw for the girl in front of him.
“What? No, it’s alright. That would be asking for too much,” Lia declines the offer, shaking her head.
“It won’t be too much. See it as a thank you, for sharing your basket with me awhile ago. To be honest, I was afraid to go alone,” Kiel insists.
“I don’t even know what design I want,” Lia replies.
“I’ll help you. Where do you want it?” Kiel asks.
“Right here,” Lia touches the inside of her left forearm, halfway between the elbow and the wrist. “Just about this big.”
“Any idea where we can begin?”
“I really have no idea.”
“Ok, how about you tell me something you really, really want right now? See, my design shows me what I want. Direction and grounding, thus the compass and the anchor. I want adventure, but I don’t want it to be aimless,” Kiel explains.
“What I really want right now?” Lia pauses as she closes her eyes to think. “Is peace and freedom.”
“Peace and freedom. Hmm. A bird would fit right in with both. How about a dove?”
“No, they’re too pure. White doves of freedom who mate for life. I think that would be too much for me,” Lia shoots down the suggestion, laughing a little. “But now that you mentioned birds, I do have one that I like.”
“What is it?”
“A phoenix.”
“Phoenix?” Kiel starts drawing.
“Yes. That rise-from-the-ashes fire bird.”
“Details or nah?”
“Nah. I want something minimalist.”
“Like this?” Kiel shows Lia the design he made. The moment Lia sees Kiel’s design, she knows that it will be her tattoo.
“Wow, it’s beautiful,” Lia says, eyes transfixed on Kiel’s phone.
“Here, let me share it with you. Take out your phone.”
“Thank you, thank you! How do I even thank you for this?”
“Just don’t forget the artist.” Then Kiel smiles.
“Sir,” Jun calls Kiel inside. The two goes inside to get their tattoo together. The tattoo artist who refused Kiel earlier attends to Lia.
Lia self-consciously rolls up her left sleeve. Right where she wants the tattoo, Kiel sees a few faint pink lines. Kiel finally understands.
When the tattoos are done, Kiel and Lia are instructed not to touch the tattoo for at least five hours and to sit by the fan until the ink is dry. They sit side by side inside the cramped booth.
Lia stares at her tattoo with wonder in her eyes. She’s thinking, why did she never think of this before? She doesn’t need to wear long sleeves anymore. At least, for the next two weeks. She thinks about getting a permanent tattoo, but decides that she can’t. Her scars are not permanent. They all fade, eventually. That’s what happens to shallow wounds. She’ll just have to cover them up while they’re there. But a permanent tattoo to cover up their site? Just the thought of something so permanent makes her shiver. Kiel notices.
“Hey, you ok? Are you cold? You’re shivering,” Kiel asks Lia.
“Huh? No. I was just thinking about something that made me shiver.”
“Care to share?” Kiel asks with a smile. “But I mean, only if you want to. I don’t want to pry,” he quickly adds, realizing that he just met her and he is not in a position to ask.
“I’m Kiel, by the way,” he introduces himself.
“I’m Lia.”
“UPD?” [UP = University of the Philippines – Diliman]
“UPD.”
After a pause, Lia asks Kiel a question.
“Would you ever get a permanent tattoo?”
“Yes!” is Kiel’s immediate reply. “I’m saving up to get this one done permanent. But for now, henna will do,” he adds, gesturing to the tattoo on his arm.
“Aren’t you afraid of having something so permanent?” Lia asks.
“No. Why? Are you?”
“I mean, aren’t you afraid of regretting it eventually? What if you don’t want it anymore?”
“Are we still talking about tattoos?”
“I—” Lia hesitates. “I just think forever is scary.”
“Nothing is forever.”
“A tattoo is forever.”
“No, it’s not. I can have it removed by laser, or cover it up with clothes or cosmetics.”
Lia simply stares at Kiel, still unconvinced.
“Why would you be afraid of forever? It’s simple. The secret is just to be ready for the uncertainties that come with a choice.” Kiel sounds matter-of-fact.
“That’s exactly why it’s scary. The uncertainty. Forever is a long time to have uncertainties.”
“Have you never had something you wanted so badly? Have you never felt that desire to have something forever, no matter the price?” Kiel asks. Lia shakes her head.
“That’s how I feel about a lot of things. Like I’m going to float to the sky chasing them. That’s why I wanted this compass and anchor tattoo. As a reminder to have direction, and to keep my feet on the ground.”
“You’re just making me more scared of this feeling you’re describing,” Lia says, chuckling a little but shaking her head.
“You’re laughing now, but someday you’ll want something so bad you’ll be ready to have it forever. Ready to risk everything. Ready to face all the consequences and uncertainties. Between a choice of never or forever, someday you’ll choose the latter.” Kiel sounds so sure. Lia is sure, too; sure that she’ll never want anything like that in her life. At least, never want it for herself. Just thinking about the feeling makes her feel like she wants to explode. That feeling is exactly why she does what she does, even when she knows it’s wrong. She unconsciously reaches her hands to touch the middle of her left forearm. Kiel catches her hand.
“The ink is not dry yet,” he warns.
“Sorry. Force of habit. But thanks,” Lia says, embarrassed.
“Sir, Ma’am, your tattoos are dry,” An attendant in the shop calls to Kiel and Lia. They look at each other. The tattoos aren’t dry. But there’s a queue of people waiting to be seated by the fan. They decide to leave.
“Vortex?” Kiel asks Lia.
“Vortex? Why?”
“To dry up our tattoos. The wind and speed might help.”
“Game.”
They get two tickets. Kiel sees that Lia had to be helped up the chair. He chuckles. Her feet are dangling more than a foot from the ground, while his are resting flat on the ground. Lia looks at him and sees him smiling.
“What?” Lia asks.
“Nothing.”
Soon enough, they’re flying.
Kiel easily gets off his chair. He rushes to help Lia down.
“Wait, I can’t get down,” Lia says, laughing at her pathetic height.
“I got you. Come on,” Kiel answers, holding Lia on her elbows.
Lia jumps.
“So, you wanna get that corndog you were asking me about earlier?” Kiel asks.
“Yes!”
They head to the other side of the Fair grounds, near the freedom wall. No wonder they couldn’t find it a while ago, Lia thinks. They thought it will be among the food booths in the middle of the grounds. Soon enough, Lia sees the yellow booth. She skips ahead. Kiel watches her approach the booth, amused at her enthusiasm.
“One potato corndog, please. Extra cheese,” Lia orders. “Kiel, what do you want? Come on! My treat. As a thank you for drawing my tattoo and for showing me where the booth is.”
“I already had one,” Kiel replies as he catches up to Lia.
“Come on!”
“Really. I already had one, remember? But if you insist, treat me to some drinks later.”
“Alright.”
When Lia gets her order she instantly bites happily into her corndog.
“I wouldn’t do—” Kiel tries to warn her, but he is too late.
“Hothothot!”
“Yes. It’s hot. It came straight from the fryer,” Kiel laughs, clearly entertained at how childish Lia suddenly seems because of the food. Lia gives him a sharp look, slightly pouting. He laughs harder.
“What’s wrong with you?! I got hurt here!” Lia protests.
“You got hurt by a corndog, don’t you see why it’s funny?” Kiel replies, still laughing.
“I— You’re right. It’s funny. Stupid, Lia,” Lia finally joins him.
“Come on! Let’s go up to the freedom wall,” Kiel says.
“Game.”
“What are you gonna write?” Lia asks when they get up the stairs to the freedom wall.
“I’m going to draw,” is Kiel’s reply. He grabs the colorful markers and starts working.
Lia grabs a black marker and stares at Kiel as he works, thinking about what she will write.
First, Kiel draws a chibi girl, face down, seemingly falling from the sky. Next, he draws a chibi boy face up, as if he’s being carried by something through the air. Both figures look happy. Then he draws a cute octopus between them, wrapping two of its arms to the chibi figures he drew. Then he signs his name at the bottom.
“That’s so cute,” Lia compliments the drawing as Kiel takes a picture.
“Have you decided what to add to the freedom wall?” Kiel asks.
“I think so.” Lia takes the cap off the marker and writes in her messy handwriting:
We are here. Now.
“No names or signatures?” Kiel asks her, reading through what she wrote.
“Nah. Nobody else needs to know.”
Before Kiel can answer the hosts shout “Rice Lucido!” from the stage.
“Hey! It’s Rice’s turn. Let’s go!” Lia runs excitedly down the stairs and to the edge of the crowd as Rice starts her first song. Kiel runs after Lia.
Lia watches Rice up on the stage, singing along silently to every song she plays. Kiel is listening, too. But his eyes are on Lia. When Rice strikes the first chord of her last song, Heto Na Naman, Lia closes her eyes. She tilts her head to the sky, hugging herself. When Rice sings the first few lines, Kiel watches as goosebumps appear on Lia’s arms, now both exposed with the sleeves rolled-up.
“Heto na ang gabi (Here comes the night)
Halika sa aking tabi (Come here beside me)
Yakapin mo ang dilim (Embrace the darkness)
Sabihin ang iyong hiling (Say your wish)”
By the end of the song, Kiel can see tears running down Lia’s face. As Rice bids the crowd goodbye, Lia opens her eyes and wipes her tears. She can leave now. She’s heard Rice play that song live. But she remembers Kiel who’s keeping her company. She decides she’ll stay, at least until she gets him his drink. She looks around for him.
She sees Kiel watching her.
“Are you alright? You were crying,” Kiel asks, concerned.
“What? No, it’s nothing. Sorry. I just get really emotional when I listen to that song,” she says, laughing to show Kiel she’s alright.
“You sure?”
“Of course, I am. I’m here. Now. I’m still here. And you’re here with me,” Lia gives Kiel a smile. Kiel isn’t sure if she is really okay.
“Hey! Stop looking at me like that. Come on. Let’s play some carnival games,” Lia says, heading to the part of the grounds where the game booths are. Kiel follows.
By the end of the hour Kiel and Lia have a handful of key chains each, the junk food they won from the carnival games already eaten.
“We spent so much and got so little in return,” Kiel complains. “I could have spent less money if I simply bought key chains and junk food.”
“You’ll never win in carnival games, that’s just a fact. They aren’t meant to be won anyways.”
“Oh yeah?”
“They’re simply meant to be played.”
“And what good is playing when you aren’t meant to win?”
“Don’t you play computer games? You get XP for trying.” [XP = Experience Points]
“My legs hurt. I want to sit down,” Lia complains from all the walking.
“You know where’s the best place to sit in the whole Fair grounds? Where we can sit to get the best view?”
“The ferris wheel?”
“The ferris wheel!” Kiel confirms.
Kiel and Lia ride the ferris wheel. Up top, they can see the whole Fair grounds.
Lia takes in all the details: the band playing on the stage, the crowd gathered at its base, the booths in the middle of the ground, the freedom wall they wrote on earlier, the carnival games near the rides, the feeling of the wind this high up.
Kiel takes in all the details: the way Lia’s eyes crinkle as she smiles, the way her lashes throw shadows on her cheeks, the way her nose moves slightly as she laughs, the way her lips curve when she talks, the way her neck looks when she tilts her head, the scent of her skin this close.
“It’s beautiful,” Lia says.
“It is,” Kiel agrees.
Lia and Kiel both feel like they own the world.
“What do we do next?” Lia asks.
“Let’s grab some food and drinks. It’s almost 2 AM. I’m hungry. All we ate are junk food.”
“That’s a good idea. Also, I promised you drinks.”
“What do you feel like eating?”
“Let’s eat everything we see.”
“That is very impractical,” Kiel laughs at the suggestion.
“Let’s eat everything we see that I want to eat.”
“That’s better.”
Kiel and Lia go on a food trip at 1:40 AM. They go to get barbecue first, since that takes the most time to prepare. They’ll just return to it after getting the drinks. After ordering, they go to get taco and pizza. They order a giant bucket of fries. When they are standing in front of a milktea booth, Lia realizes she can leave. Once she gives him the drink, she’s free to go, having fulfilled her promise. She thinks about whether she already wants to go.
“Hey, are you waiting for any artist?” Lia asks Kiel.
“Yes. Rico Blanco. He’s probably one of the last on the line up.”
“So, you’re staying until his set is over?”
“Yes.”
Lia decides to stay.
Sitting on the grass eating the food they bought, Lia and Kiel have a picnic. A wind blows rippling through Lia’s exposed arms. She unconsciously reaches to cover her left forearms, not used to the wind touching her bare arms. Once again, Kiel catches her hands.
“You’re not supposed to touch it yet,” Kiel warns her.
“Sorry,” Lia says. “Force of habit,” they say in unison.
“You don’t have to hide them anymore, you know?” Kiel says. Lia stops and stares at him, realizing what he means.
“You saw them.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry,” Kiel apologizes, cursing himself inwardly at his tendency to observe. He likes noticing the little things, and as an artist it is natural for him to notice details. But some things people just want to keep private.
“It’s not what you think it means, you know?” Lia says, feeling defensive. Lia doesn’t get why, but there is a feeling in her guts that she badly wants to explain to the boy in front of her. She doesn’t want him to get the wrong idea about her scars. Kiel simply looks at her, letting her decide whether she wants to elaborate or not. Lia decides to elaborate.
“They aren’t there because I want to die. I actually don’t want to die,” Lia explains. She’s never talked about this with anyone before, but now she wants to talk. To explain where she’s coming from to this boy she doesn’t really know; this boy who kept her company when she couldn’t bear to be alone. Before tonight, nobody had seen them. Nobody ever suspected that Lia—perfect student Lia, perfect daughter Lia—sometimes cuts her arms. Kiel understands that Lia wants to talk. He lets her. Both of them forgetting that Kiel is still holding Lia’s hand.
“I just want to feel something else, anything else, other than what I’m feeling inside. You talked about sometimes feeling like you’re going to float away. It’s different for me. Sometimes, my mind would fixate on a thought. Especially when I think about the future, that vast expanse of uncertainty. I’m afraid of uncertainty, but permanence also feels overwhelming. That irony makes me feel like I’m going to explode.” Lia notices that her hand is still in Kiel’s hand. She’s not sure if he’s aware but she smiles. She doesn’t point it out nor retract her hand. It’s easier to say the things she wants to say knowing that somebody is holding her hand.
“At first, I would thump my chest whenever I feel that way. Because it also feels like I can’t breathe, and the physical feeling helps take my mind away from the inner ones. And for a while that worked. Until it didn’t. The first time I cut myself, I didn’t know that I was doing it until I had done it. I just felt like I was going to explode. And afterwards, I didn’t anymore,” Lia pauses, taking a sip of her drink. When Lia stops talking, Kiel realizes that he’s still holding her hand. He doesn’t let go.
“You know how pressure cookers have that tiny whistling thing on top where steam comes out? It’s like that. Just a tiny, tiny outlet to let some of the pressure out; so that the whole pot doesn’t explode. That’s why my wounds are shallow, why I don’t cut my wrists. I honestly don’t want to die. In fact, I do it ‘cause I want to live. Because it feels like I’ll die if I don’t,” Lia finishes her story. The first time she’s ever told her story. She doesn’t notice that her hand in Kiel’s had stopped shaking.
“I—” Kiel begins, squeezing Lia’s hand tightly, not really knowing what to say but not comfortable with the silence that follows. Trying to convey with that simple gesture that he’s here, now. Like what she wrote on the freedom wall a while ago.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Lia says, smiling at Kiel, saving him the trouble of finding the right words to say when there are none. “I guess I just wanted someone to listen.” And hold my hand, Lia adds in her mind.
I’ll just hold your hand, Kiel decides. And they continue their picnic.
Neither of them lets go.
“And the last act for tonight: Rico Blanco!” The hosts shout from the stage. Lia and Kiel hurry to pick up their trash. They drop it off at a trash bin on the way to the edge of the crowd.
It’s Lia’s turn to watch Kiel watch the act he came here for. Kiel is jumping up and down, shouting with the other Fair goers, singing along to the songs. He’s still holding Lia’s hand. He briefly let it go when they needed both their hands for their things, but now he’s not letting go.
After the first song finishes, Kiel looks at Lia; his eyes wild, his smile bright. As the next song begins, his eyes got even wilder. Lia knows that he wants to mosh, but he’s satisfying himself by the edge of the crowd to stay with her.
“You don’t have to stay here. Go into the mosh pit! I know you want to,” Lia says.
“I’m not leaving you alone here,” Kiel replies.
“Then take me with you, silly!” Lia says, laughing.
They dive hand-in-hand into the middle of the pit, jumping with the crowd, stirring up the sand beneath their feet. Song after song, not letting go of each other’s hands.
“This is the last song,” Rico says as the lights on the stage dim. “Before we all go safely home,” Rico trails off. The crowd stops jumping around, realizing what the last song is. They shout in unison “You’ll be safe here!” The last song starts.
“Nobody knows
Just why we’re here
Could it be fate
Or random circumstance
At the right place
At the right time
Two roads intertwine”
The song has a different effect on the crowd. Just a while ago they are wild beasts trampling the ground. But now they are reverent. They took out their phones to shine light on the stage. People are swaying where they stand instead of jumping. The sand settles on the ground again. When Rico says “Sing with me,” they oblige.
From the stage, the ground looks like a sea of stars. Something catches Rico’s eyes: a gap in the lights. There stands a boy and a girl, holding hands. Rico had seen many things from the stage, and he knows just exactly what is happening there. He can almost imagine the sound of the boy’s heartbeat as he struggles to decide whether to kiss the girl beside him or not, to find the right timing. But Rico knows that there is never a right time.
“You’ll be safe here
Sa liwanag (In the light)
Sa dilim (In the dark)
I’ll stay with you
You’ll be safe here”
The song is ending. The boy and the girl are now looking at each other, but the boy’s nervousness is winning out. It’s the last lines of the song. Rico decides to give them a few extra seconds. He draws it out.
“Put your heart in my hands
You’ll be saaaaaaaaaafe”
When the girl reaches up and finally kisses the boy, Rico ends his song.
“Here.”
[Photo Credit: tattoodaze.comfor Kiel’s tattoo and tatoojessieblog for Lia’s tattoo.]
[Featured image is the view from the ferris wheel in UP Fair. This one was taken in 2017, although the story itself is set in 2020. And yes, I know, Rice and Rico didn’t play on the same night of UP Fair. This is fiction, so just let it be.]
I think this is the most awkward thing I’ve ever written, and for that I’m sorry. First off, I’m not used to writing in the present tense and in 3rd-person perspective. So I feel like my sentences are awkward. But I purposely used present tense because I wanted my characters to be present in the moment, not even a second late. Second, I didn’t know how to put into words what I want to put into words. I want to be careful not to be insensitive to the topic. I debated whether to post this or not, because I’m not sure if I should be writing about self-harm and I don’t want to appear like I’m romanticizing it. But I really, really wanted to post this because I worked hard on it, so that won out. Here goes nothing.
princesscavid 