“Is it cold in here?” Mickey asks
one morning while we’re pouring ourselves over some of my recent sketches and
his materials. It’s not and he knows it,
but I understand what he’s saying nonetheless.
“Good lord, it feels like the Tundra!”
I give him a playful shove and just
shake my head. “Dork.”
I’m a Blackjack and a Minja. I think I have to accept that I’ll never be okay with Minzy’s plastic surgery. Her face, her right. Of course. But I don’t think I’ll ever find her “new” face as beautiful as her original face