He is a rockstar. She is a seamstress.
She writes when she misses him.
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He was awkward. He made her nervous. “So what’s it like to be you?” he asked. He had just finished looking at her facebook profile. She didn’t like that he may have formed opinions of her from what he saw. She sat down in the room with him. Pretended to be interested in some books lying on the coffee table. They talked. For real. For the first time. For hours.

  12:43 pm, by heisarockstar