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the-light-followed · 4 years

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THE COLOUR OF MAGIC (1983) [DISC. #1; RINCEWIND #1]

Rating: 5/10

Standalone Okay: Yes

Read First: NO.

Discworld Books Masterpost: [x]

* * * * * * * * * *

Ask any Discworld fan, and we’ll all pretty much universally agree that The Colour of Magic isn’t the pinnacle of the Discworld experience. Nobody really recommends that new readers should start here, even if it is the first book in the series chronologically. I’m pretty much a writing-order-equals-reading-order purist, for reasons best discussed elsewhere, and even I would absolutely never start people off with this one. (I tend to go for Going Postal or Wee Free Men—again, for reasons best discussed elsewhere.)

It’s not Pratchett’s best work. It’s not even his tenth best work. If I have to rate it (and I do, because that’s kind of the point, here), compared to the rest of Discworld, it’s down at the bottom of my list.

It’s pretty damn good, though, for what it is.

For me, it’s a genuine joy to read the early Rincewind books. This is because, in my head at least, it makes total sense that everything involved in them is baffling and strange when compared to the settled absurdism you get from other Discworld novels. Further into the series, it all feels a lot more comfortable and fleshed-out: yes, the things Pratchett writes about are often genuinely ridiculous, but usually the setting explains those things and packages them up neatly enough to make them acceptable. And the characters treat everything as perfectly normal, business as usual, so the reader is gently encouraged to do the same.

Thinking about it, I would argue that a lot of the Discworld shenanigans aren’t all that different from a lot of the real-world nonsense that we all just accept as totally normal. Discworld nonsense and our nonsense just come from different places. For us, it’s stuff like the fact that some cops still ride horses for absolutely no good reason, or that tipping is part of a server’s pay in an American restaurant, or that water is usually free but we all let movie theaters charge us like $5 for a bottle, and what’s that even about? In the Discworld, the thieves and assassins have unionized, and if you slip up, it’s entirely possible to just fall right off the edge of the world. It’s weird, and it’s not exactly fine, but it’s not about to kill us right this second, so we all just let it happen. We accept it.

This is not at all the case for our unwilling protagonist, the original Discworld hero-who-is-absolutely-not-a-hero, Rincewind. He’s scared of everything. He is a genuine, bona fide coward. Absolutely everything that happens leaves him baffled, terrified, and/or dismayed, and to tell the truth I unconditionally respect all of this about him, because most of the absolute bullshit nonsense going down around him is baffling, terrifying, and/or simply Not Good, and he and the reader have to learn to live with that together.

Over the course of this one novel, failed-wizard-slash-reluctant-guide Rincewind is:

Involved in burning down large parts of the city of Ankh-Morpork, because he left his friend unsupervised and the city really wasn’t ready for the invention of ‘insurance’ without the accompanying understanding of ‘insurance fraud.’

Chased, threatened, and variously menaced by a sentient suitcase known as the Luggage, which canonically has huge teeth, a mahogany tongue, hundreds of little legs, and an insatiable hunger for the flesh of its owner’s enemies. Also, it does your laundry if you leave it inside. Isn’t that nice?

Forced into a duel by dragon riders, where he must fight upside-down while wearing boots that basically Velcro-attach their wearers to the ceiling.

Captured, imprisoned, and scheduled to be sacrificed to the anthropomorphic personification of Fate in exchange for success in a scientific endeavor—specifically, checking the biological sex of the giant turtle carrying the Discworld on its back through the universe.

Dropped over the Rimfall, the waterfall at the edge of the Disc, which in Roundworld terminology is something like tripping and falling off the surface of the Earth and flying into the abyss of space.

Repeatedly almost forced to speak one of the Eight Great Spells that created the universe, which will do…something, possibly catastrophic, when spoken. No one knows exactly what it does. Rincewind certainly doesn’t. This spell attached itself parasitically to his brain years ago, and, in the meantime, has shoved all the other wizard-y type things he could have been doing right on out of there.

So, basically, he’s going through a lot. And this list isn’t everything, just the bits I pulled out by opening my book at random spots and reading a couple of lines. It kind of makes sense, in my opinion, that things feel a little topsy-turvy. Shit’s wild.

On top of that, I’d also argue that Pratchett is playing pretty fast and loose with plot and story structure in this book. It can feel sloppy at times, more like a bunch of little vignettes that have been strung together than a single, coherent storyline. The plot loosely wobbles along the tightrope strung between Rincewind’s uncanny luck, good and bad, and cheerfully-blockheaded-tourist Twoflower’s unstoppable ability to trample through the middle of every single situation that could possibly try to kill him. Very bad things happen, but somehow, they miraculously fail to die, and so Rincewind is still stuck shepherding Twoflower along through the next incident of someone or something trying to brutally murder them both. There’s no real greater plot or driving need, just Twoflower with his little camera, wanting to take pictures of every beautiful and dangerous part of the Disc.

If a rabid wolf the size of a bus came up and tried to eat him, Twoflower would take pictures of the inside of its mouth and say, “Oh, wow, I’ve never seen teeth that big before! Rincewind, won’t you take a picture of me with this magnificent beast?” And Rincewind wouldn’t answer, because he’d be half a mile away already and still moving fast, with nothing but a cartoon cloud of dust left behind to mark where he’d been.

[Here’s the boys, Rincewind and Twoflower, just doing their best. From the BBC two-part miniseries called The Colour of Magic, which actually spans the plot of both The Colour of Magic and The Light Fantastic. Yes, that is Samwise Gamgee playing Twoflower, and yes, I did get distracted by that a lot while watching. Twoflower has all of Sam’s earnest faith and absolutely none of his common sense.]

Fun!

The whole thing actually is pretty fun, though. It’s witty. It’s got something to say, even if that something is just “hey, aren’t all these identical High Fantasy Adventure books all overdramatic and ridiculous in the exact same ways?” Pratchett is writing this book as one massive joke he’s telling about the genre, the tropes, and the archetypes, and he does a pretty decent job even by today’s cultural standards, let alone the standards of 1983. Chances are that any point he’s making here in The Colour of Magic is something he’s going to make again, better, in a later book, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the seeds of something here.

As a main example, I’ll point out Liessa Dragonlady, who has arguably the biggest role in one of the major conflicts of this book. Liessa is initially presented as the quintessential High Fantasy barbarian warrior lady, which would typically be more about sex appeal than any actual skill—except that Liessa is actually highly intelligent, 110% more talented and qualified as a leader and warrior than her brothers or literally anyone on the protagonists’ team, and is aware the whole time that she’s struggling against the patriarchy and her society (and the tropes) in trying to take what should be her rightful place as leader of the Wyrmberg. The sexism exists in the Discworld, not in the writing.

[Liessa from the BBC’s The Colour of Magic, wearing—no joke—a crop top armor chest piece. Actually, I think it’s technically a bikini, based on the bottom half of the armor. Or should I say the lack thereof? Classic.]

Liessa is a decent example of Pratchett’s ability to look at the tropes and the reader’s expectations, and then go and take his writing somewhere else. But even so, I’d absolutely point to Monstrous Regiment or even Equal Rites first for anyone wanting to read a really solid exploration of femininity and what it means to be a woman in a traditionally ‘masculine’ field. Or I’d suggest just about any book starring the senior witches or Tiffany Aching for examples of well-rounded female characters that demand respect in a world specifically designed to not want to give it to them.

But that’s just one example. The Colour of Magic has the seeds of quite a few really good ideas that Pratchett will explore in more depth later on.

I think those seeds are part of what makes The Colour of Magic worth a read at some point, even if it’s never going to be anyone’s favorite Discworld book. I love seeing the foundations of Future-Discworld, that settled absurdism I was talking about earlier, in this. We’ve got our proto-Vetinari, long before he had a name, being generically threatening and Machiavellian and as close to ‘cackling evil overlord’ as it’s possible to get without actually cackling, or at least without some sort of thunderstorm rumbling in the background. Ankh-Morpork is a wonderfully scum-filled cesspit of depravity and immorality. There’s no effective City Watch to kick things into a rickety and leaking approximation of ship-shape, so it’s probably a good thing that the river Ankh is so thick with pollution that you don’t need a ship to cross it—you can just walk.

There’s even some early conceptualization of Pratchett’s special brand of everyday magic, the kind that will show up over and over again in the Discworld: the idea that even with a reality full of gods and wizards and hyper-powerful, monstrous things, there’s still a lot of power in everyday, ordinary people.

Pratchett is all about belief. He preaches the importance of the self, in terms of making reality into the place we think it should be. In Pratchett’s world, the things we believe in matter, and not just in a philosophical sense. Belief is a real, tangible form of magic—in this book, specifically, Twoflower manages to summon an entire dragon out of nothing, just because he believes strongly enough that dragons should exist the way he’s always dreamed them to be. In later books, sheer belief and willpower are shown to create and fuel gods and spirits, to contain quasi-demonic entities of vengeance and darkness, and to form the backbone of every other more ‘traditional’ type of magic.

It’s nice to see the early forms of it here. I’m not going to get too into it, because it’s going to show up a lot in later books in more significant ways (I’m thinking Hogfather, Small Gods, and even Pyramids) and I don’t want to beat that horse to death just yet, but it’s one of the foundation stones of the Discworld. It’s somehow comforting to know that it’s been here since the very beginning.

It’s also funny as hell to see the stuff that Pratchett will eventually change, soften, or drop entirely as he settles into the way the Discworld will work. Did you know there are eight seasons on the Discworld? And that in my 1985 edition of the book, the footnote where he explains these eight seasons takes up the bottom half of two entire pages?

That’s one single footnote there. The first ever footnote, even, and it’s almost a full page long and utterly ridiculous. It’s incredible, and I love it a lot. I also love that almost none of the details here are ever mentioned again, and if they are, it’s never in a significant or memorable way—and Pratchett certainly doesn’t waste a whole page on any of them ever again. Well, except for Hogswatch, because Pratchett knows when he’s got a real winner. It might have taken him thirteen years, but he wrote a whole damn book about it, and we all can agree that Hogfather is a joy and a delight.

Not so much “Autumn Prime,” “Crueltide,” “Winter Secundus,” and blah blah blah etcetera whatever. I’m not ashamed to admit that I forgot them while I was literally still in the middle of reading them. And what the hell is “Reforgule of Krull”? No clue. It’s total nonsense, never seen again, and I think we can all agree we are fine with this.

On second thought, I think Pratchett does end up using Hubward and Rimward pretty regularly as directions. But without this info-dump, when reading other books, I think that even I figured out how “Hubward” and “Rimward” work on a flat plate of a world with a Hub in the center and a Rim along the outside. And I am so bad with maps and directions that I literally get confused trying to give people directions to the parking lot outside my work.

I’m no good at wrapping these things up, so I’m ending this post the same way that Pratchett ends the book: with Rincewind abruptly falling off the edge of the Disc.

[Originally, I was going to go hunt down some fanart or something, but I don’t have permission to use any of that, so instead you get my doodles off the scrap paper I steal from work. Luckily for everyone, I’m an artistic genius. The dot representing Rincewind obviously isn’t to scale, since one human person would be much smaller than that, but if it represents the size of his body and the size of his scream, then it’s basically accurate.]

* * * * * * * * * *

Side Notes:

Rincewind’s insane luck, good and bad, is because he’s a favorite of the goddess referred to only as ‘the Lady,’ since invoking her true name means she has to leave. She’s the anthropomorphic personification of Luck itself, and she’s the reason Rincewind always survives whatever terrible situation he finds himself in—but also the reason he’s stuck in that situation in the first place.

Everything that goes wrong, and the dramatic escape that inevitably follows, is because the Lady likes to play dice games with Fate, using normal people on the Disc as game pieces.

Rincewind, it turns out, is the human equivalent of her favorite Monopoly token. (The iron, maybe? It has the same sort of Looney Tunes cartoon-anvil vibe as Rincewind’s whole, well, everything.)

Death as a character makes his first appearance in The Colour of Magic. However, here it’s implied he actually is involved somehow in the killing process, and his role can be filled in by apparently random low-level demons on their days off, whereas later books make it clear he just collects and shepherds the dead onward, and actually the issue of his replacement is a big deal, cosmically speaking.

Pratchett sort of avoids this issue by claiming that Rincewind’s life timer is so complicated and convoluted (because of all the weird accidents and magical incidents) that Death just can’t tell when he’s actually supposed to die.

I guess Death shows up every time it looks like Rincewind might kick the bucket, just in case? And in that case, all the threatening stuff he says to Rincewind in these early books must be because he’s so irritated that he has to keep coming out for no reason, only to find that Rincewind has, once again, managed to survive. And maybe the low-level demon showing up instead was just, uh, Death trying to scare him into actually beefing it, this time…?

Although the Unseen University Librarian exists and is human for the entirety of this book and only this book, he does not appear at any point. He’s briefly referenced—or, at least, a librarian is referenced, but this is referring back when Rincewind was young and read the grimoire that left one of the Eight Great Spells parasitically attached to his mind. There’s no guarantee it’s the same librarian, and based on the turnover (read: murder) rate of University wizards at the time, I don’t think it’s likely that anyone managed to hold onto their job that long. On Google, I did find a thing where someone cut together some shots of him in human form from The Colour of Magic BBC show, so that’s pretty fun:

Once he’s changed into an orangutan in The Light Fantastic, he’s described as still looking a bit like the human Librarian: with that beard and hair combo, I think they nailed it.

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Favorite Quotes:

“Inn-sewer-ants-polly-sea.”

“She was the Goddess Who Must Not Be Named; those who sought her never found her, yet she was known to come to the aid of those in greatest need. And, then again, sometimes she didn’t. She was like that.”

“It was all very well going on about pure logic and how the universe was ruled by logic and the harmony of numbers, but the plain fact of the matter was that the Disc was manifestly traversing space on the back of a giant turtle and the gods had a habit of going round to atheists’ houses and smashing their windows.”

“Some pirates achieved immortality by great deeds of cruelty or derring-do. Some achieved immortality by amassing great wealth. But the captain had long ago decided that he would, on the whole, prefer to achieve immortality by not dying.”

“‘I’m sure you won’t dream of trying to escape from your obligations by fleeing the city…’ ‘I assure you the thought never even crossed my mind, lord.’ ‘Indeed? Then if I were you I’d sue my face for slander.’”

“It was octarine, the colour of magic. It was alive and glowing and vibrant and it was the undisputed pigment of the imagination, because wherever it appeared it was a sign that mere matter was a servant of the powers of the magical mind. It was enchantment itself. But Rincewind always thought it looked a sort of greenish-purple.”

#the colour of magic #discworld #rincewind #I don't know why I'm doing this #and I don't think anyone will actually read this #but if you do come talk to me!!#I'm going to be going through every single discworld book this year and writing up one of these #and I want to hear what people have to say #also tell me when I'm wrong because there's forty one books of material to go through and I'm absolutely going to miss stuff and mess up

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thestylesproject · 6 years

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#53 Coffee and Sandwiches Does Not Mean a Date PART 3 (Harry Styles)

Thank you for all the love, my lovelies!

Here is Part 1, Part 2

All I want to say is that I’m done with my last week in college so now, its essays and dissertation time. So, keep me busy, London can get LONELY, send me messages, little ideas in your heads which I can expand into blurbs maybe when I take a break which will be every now and then. Okay. Send me. Talk. Okay.

—

“Are we walking there?” Matt asked me as I picked him up after class. He had asked me out on a date, and to be honest, in my heart, I knew I could do better. That I didn’t deserve a player like him, cause he was a player, but my confidence was at an all-time low. Harry had been looking through me everywhere I met him, and that is the reason I said yes.

“Yeah, it’s actually just point-four miles from here,” I said. I decided to take him to that cute little cafe, Harry had initially taken me to. It felt secluded enough and was close by so, I could run and get lost in the library if this turned upside down.

“Cool, you look pretty today,” he said, and I thanked him. No blush. Nothing had that effect on me anymore. I was quite heartbroken if I went deep inside my heart, and made myself confess an emotion. Hurt, and heartbroken. But, I knew Harry could do so much better than me.

We entered the cafe, and I took my usual seat. At least the usual I had with Harry. Hidden enough, but could see the view outside. Matt ordered a few things off the menu, sure about going big he was, and I took a seat down. He joined me a while later and continued making small talk till the food came. I didn’t think much, he was making small talk, telling me of the mansion he owns back in LA, and how they had parties every weekend, and I had to come and stay when I was there.

I agreed, laughed along until I saw Harry walk in. He couldn’t see me yet, but I knew he’d come here. To this seat for sure, and I was dreading it. I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t want him to see me on a date, and then, look through me again. I looked away and concentrated on my shake, as he talked about this particular rave at his place which brought the cops, but he paid them off.

“Hey, Harry!” You idiot, I thought, as he called out to him. I saw Harry, and his eyes widened in surprise. He placed his order and walked towards us.

“Hey man, what are you doing here?” He asked.

“This pretty lady got me to this cafe,” he laughed, oblivious to what this cafe meant.

“…I don’t tell many about this place for very selfish reasons,” he laughed.

“So, I shouldn’t tell people about this place?” I asked.

He nodded, “I’m trusting you.”

This was that cafe!

“She did, didn’t she? Can I join you?” He didn’t wait for Matt to disagree. To say, that this was well, kind of a first date. He sat down next to me, really close as our bodies touched, and then, I shifted a little, keeping the shake back down on the table.

“Which coffee are you having? Is it your favourite one?” Harry picked up the glass and placed his mouth on the straw sucking it, a little longer than necessary, meeting Matt’s eyes. “Yeah, it is,” He smiled, and placed it down. I ordered another one for you.”

I looked at him shocked. He knew I was here, then. What was he playing at?

“So you guys know each other?” Matt gulped, straightening up.

“Yeah, we do. Don’t we? Quite well, really,” Harry shifted closer to me, and my eyes widened in shock, and I almost jumped when he kept his hand on my thigh. The only thing that calmed me down was that his thumb was brushing my knee, and he knew it was a calming factor for me. Made me feel protected this one movement.

It was not an act unseen by Matt, and he looked at me in question. I didn’t have anything to say, I was as surprised as him.

Harry’s order was brought on the table, and he shifted Matt’s plates a bit. I knew this date with Matt was gone, I think he knew it as well.

“I got your favourite sandwich,” Harry placed the plate in front of me. I looked at him raising my shoulders in question. What the fuck was happening?

“Yeah, it doesn’t have tomatoes, don’t worry,” Harry took it as something else, and continued talking to Matt. “So, how is it going on with…what is her name? Umm, Haley! How is Haley? I heard you guys went clubbing yesterday, must be fun!”

I looked at Matt in shock. He told me he had broken up with her, hadn’t seen her since forever. That was the first question I asked when he asked me out. “She is fine,” He said, “was fun, yeah.”

“Get lost, please,” I said next, without thinking.

“Y/N, it’s not like that,” He started.

“And, only pay your half when you walk out, please.” He shut up and walked to the counter.

Harry called for the server and asked him to remove the stuff Matt had ordered, as he wrapped one hand next to me, bringing me very close to him, and picking one of my legs, and placing it over his thigh. My mind was going crazy. What was wrong with this man?

“Did I skip a few of our days from our last interaction where it is suddenly okay for you to hold me like this?” I asked him, bewildered.

“No, so it’s okay for me to crash your date?” He smirked.

“I don’t even know why I agreed really,” I sighed. Another lost opportunity.

“Yeah, I have no clue. He is an asshole.”

“You’re an asshole,” I snapped.

He pursed his lips, “agreed. But, I at least know your favourites.”

“You’re making my head swirl, Harry. Not in a good way too! You have been ignoring me since forever, and I came up to you. In front of everyone and asked you to talk to me, and you were horrible to me, and now…”

I didn’t get to finish because something else hit my head. His. His lips were on mine, and I was kissing him. He was strong determined, his eyes were closed, mine clearly were not. He pulled away and met my shocked eyes. A pain flashed through them, but I closed my eyes and recovered the gap between our lips. Not thinking it through this time, not questioning why, just enjoying this lucky moment, as I felt his hands around my back, and one around my face pulling me closer to him. Mine were clutching his coat, and all I could feel were how soft his lips were on mine, and how good of a kisser he was. We pulled away again, needing to breathe. Harry closed his eyes and attached his forehead to mine, his palm holding my face.

I straightened, “that was…”

“Good?” He asked.

“Unexpected…”

“I need to explain myself,” He looked at me, and I nodded. “Look, I was upset. I have forever, and forever been used for people just wanting to take pictures with me, putting them on every platform they could, and then not even hanging out with me. Like I was just a pretty face that their friends needed to know they hang out with, and none of them, ever took time to know me. It has been superficial for so long. When I came here, I wanted a change. You know, I started hating photography, but I wanted to start again. I liked taking pictures, of you, of everyone, and I didn’t want to be in it.”

“That’s why you took my pictures,” I said. He nodded, and handed me the shake glass, asking me to take a sip.

“And then, suddenly you got distant from me. Just randomly, when I thought all was going fine, I had a smart beautiful girl who chose to spend her hours with stupid me, a girl I was crushing so hard on, and you just stopped responding to my messages. Missed all our plans, and was two weeks, didn’t reply to my messages. I had to make you talk to me, and I thought maybe, I was reading you all wrong. I was not good enough for you, so this was your way of stepping away…”

“It was not-” I shook my head.

“That’s what it felt like, and I don’t know, we continued going out after that, but it felt so superficial and so different, and my heart was broken because I still wanted to be your friend, but I was really crushing hard. And, then I got bitter. Like angry, just so frustrated. I thought you were using me too.That it was getting repeated again, me as a tool. I didn’t mean to snap, but it was a reflex.”

“I backed out because I saw you on a date!” I blurted out. “And, I felt heartbroken, cause you would never take me out after seven and, she was there with you.”

“Date? Wait what? When? I thought you liked our cafe dates! All cafes close at seven here, not my fault! And after spending the whole day together, I was never confident enough or thought you’d like to carry on! What date?”

“I love our cafe dates! I really do, it didn’t fit right in my head. I thought that I wasn’t worth you taking me out.”

“But, I took you out all the time! Spent all my time with you! Cancelled all plans because I wanted to have that lunch date with you, the next day, and be awake and aware and what date?”

“It was in Covent Garden, I was out with all my girlfriends…you saw me,” I looked away.

“When you wore that black dress?” his eyes shined. “You never wore a black dress on any of our outings.”

“It was a body-hugging short black dress not used for mornings!” I told him.

“All your nights are going to be mine now.”

I gulped, “I saw you though, and I was hurt. Took me two weeks to recover, longer even.”

“That was my sister,” He made me look at him. “I was on dinner with my sister. We actually, were supposed to meet more family, but they bailed and we chose to continue eating at that fancy place. My sister, not a date. You should have asked.”

“I didn’t have any confidence. You’re so pretty,” I said, kissing him again.

“You’re so pretty,” He kissed me back, “We need to work on your confidence.” Another kiss.

“What about your birthday then? And, Hamilton?” I pulled away.

“I booked tickets for us for Hamilton for next month actually. Premier seats, I wanted to surprise you, you idiot.”

“I’m not an idiot. Premier seats? Really?” I smiled so hard, all excited. “What about that birthday?”

“I was an idiot then,” He looked away. “Don’t be mad, okay? I made Cindy take your name out. She was quite shocked. Knew about my huge crush on you.”

“Why?”

“It was after that picture thing, wasn’t it? I was just, I didn’t like you thinking that you were using me. I didn’t realise you were taking it as something completely else. I didn’t realise I was making you feel like that, and I get it. But, you have to get me too. I had a history with it, and I thought, that this girl doesn’t even like me like I like her, and she is taking pictures of me, and it was all piled up. I didn’t want to be sad on my birthday. I didn’t want to be reminded that you didn’t like me, and I completely lost you after that. I was an idiot. When I take pictures of you, I like them to mean something. I thought you would not be comfortable with me using yours because you were shy of me clicking them in the first place. It’s a lot”

“We had everything wrong…” I sighed.

“No, we don’t. We just had to talk it out. I’m sorry I ignored you after I posted the picture of us. I thought that the only reason you want to go out with me now is because of-”

“But, that is not true! I wanted validation, Harry! That I was good enough, and all that I know what that I wasn’t-”

“Wasn’t what? Good enough? You are more than that, You don’t have to be good enough for anybody to have that confidence. You have to be good enough for yourself. That is why I fell in love with you because you at least owned everything you chose to do!”

“Love with me?” My eyes widened.

“A bit fast right? I like you. A lot a lot. Let’s start with that? Is that okay?” He looked into my eyes.

“I like you a lot a lot too. You can only make me blush. I like when you take pictures of me too, and I like that you know my favourites. I’m sorry. We should have talked sooner,” I hugged him.

“I want another kiss after this. And after lunch, we are going for dinner together as well. We need to break this mould, and make you believe you’re worth all my time!” He kissed my lips slowly, making me feel every bend.

“Harry…” I asked between the kiss, and he literally moaned. “How did you know I was here?”

“I’m sorry, but Matt can’t take you out on a date. No. That is not happening. ” He shook his head, and I laughed.

—

Tell me what you think about it? What else could have happened? hmmm…

Masterlist

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