Currently listening to: Right Above It – Lil Wayne feat. Drake
Who else is really trying to fuck with Hollywood Cole
I’m with Marley G’s bro
Flying Holly Grove chicks to my Hollywood shows
And I wanna tell you something that you probably should know
This that Slum Dog Millionaire Bollywood flow and uh
My real friends never hearing from me
Fake friends write the wrong answers on the mirror for me
I looked in the mirror—and there it was.
Staring back at me like it had something to say.
A fucking zit.
Right there on my chin, bold as hell. Like it paid rent to be there. Like it belonged. I blinked, leaned in closer, hoping it was just a weird shadow or maybe some leftover makeup smudge. Nope. It was real. Angry. Inflamed. Glowing like a damn traffic light.
I stood there in disbelief.
What is this—puberty, round two?
Am I thirteen again? Is my body about to start passing notes in class and listening to Dashboard Confessional?
I mean, I do skincare. I exfoliate. I double cleanse. I wear SPF like it’s my religion. And yet—this zit decided to crash my grown-ass adult life uninvited.
Honestly, the betrayal.
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