in our mothers' house

Tsk. Just how are you planning to represent our liege if you can’t even dress yourself properly?”

These Walls are Paper Thin

by reddit user AjayRedonkulus

The walls of my house are paper thin and while that sounds like a cliché it is entirely apt. I am seventeen and living with my mother and sister in our childhood home. The house was pretty simple and remarkably box shaped, nothing fancy but don’t get me wrong, we weren’t broke or on benefits or anything.

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In the 12th house, we don’t have to know or understand our existence, we don’t have to feel or be aware of ourselves, we can just be. Asleep.

But in the 6th house, we have to face the reality of making a living, of exploring and taking care of our physical body, of living in/with our minds. Awake.

The 12th house is symbolic of the mother’s womb – safe, quiet, solitary nothingness – so the 6th house can be symbolic of the labor of birth, being torn from our silent sanctuary and thrust into the bright, busy, exhausting real world. That’s what it’s like in the beginning of our lives. For the rest of it, it’s the other way around; we have to work and toil in order to be rewarded with the soft and dreamy sacred space where we can finally be at peace. The 12th house represents the pre-conscious and post-conscious realms, and the 6th house is the foundation of everything that lies in-between.



“She was wrapped in blue. The kind of blue, at that place, where you can’t tell the sea from the sky. She was the sea. She was the sky. The blue was her tribal skin. But she didn’t know it yet.”

I’ve always been a city girl; born and brought up here. I’ve spent my childhood evenings playing lagori, lukka-chuppi, badminton, antakshari, pakda-pakdi, sakli below my building, where we had a small, namesake ground. And if and when we craved for a different space to play in, we took over the building terrace(if we were lucky, the watchman would’ve forgotten to lock it that evening). Sometimes we got lucky, but most times we didn’t. If the grounds got too boring, and the terrace locked, we would diligently go over to every one of our friends’ homes, till at least one of our mothers allowed us to play inside the house. But of course we couldn’t run and jump inside the house, so we would quietly(or not) sit in a corner assigned to us and invent games to keep ourselves entertained. We would play till around 8, and if we hadn’t been summoned home as yet, we would all sit and watch an episode each of Popeye and Scooby dooby doo. 
This was pretty much our playtime routine back then.

The summer vacations were a lot more stifling. I spent hours immersed in Enid Blyton books while growing up. I craved for the kind of adventures the characters in Secret Seven and Famous Five had. I craved to live in the kind of countryside they lived in. I craved to aimlessly ride my cycle, pluck fresh fruits from trees, get lost in fields, have lakeside picnics with my best friends. I craved for spaces I could call my own, nooks and corners of the woods only I knew about, go hiking in the woods with my friends, find pretty spots where we could break for some delicious snacks. I craved to climb trees, eat freshly plucked fruits, make a bouquet of fresh flowers and get them home to mom, play in a stream, come back home tired and thirsty and hungry after a long day of doing all of these.

But there I was, in a place I can confidently say was the opposite of what I craved for. There was no countryside, no woods, no deserted cabins, hardly any trees at all, no empty roads to cycle on, no picnic spots, no pretty lakes.
So we made do with what little we had- the ground, the occasional terrace, and corners of our tiny homes.
I lived after all in the heart of Bombay.


This year, I spent around two months in the forest areas of Wayanad in Kerala. Wayanad is one of the most beautiful places in India, and is known for its rich, wild forests. Wayanad has almost 10 different types of tribes that live in different parts of the district.
I spent most of my time there with the tribal people, and even lived with them for several days, in their settlements.
It took me several days to meet locals, become friends with them, get accustomed to my new surroundings, and for them to be comfortable and open up around a non-local. It was slightly challenging, but I had help from my relatives who lived in the same area, and some friends as well. Fortunately for me, it all worked out smoothly.

The first thing I registered when I went there the first time was that there was nothing around me but lush green foliage and acres and acres of untouched forest land. I had in front of me everything I had craved for since a long long time. But these new surroundings felt so alien to me. Suddenly I was at a loss for what to do or how to be. It felt odd walking around without footwear, with my bare feet touching the soft soil and delicate grass. It seemed odd but luxurious to sit under any tree I wanted to or to sit on the rock by the stream with my feet dipped in the cold water.

It took me a couple of weeks to get accustomed to my new surroundings. I made several tribal friends..gradually, but very very happily eased into my new surroundings, sat outside tribal huts chatting with them for hours(it helped that I’m Malayali, so communicating with them was not a problem), played with the children, chased chickens, sang with them, learnt not to be around river banks in the evenings because that’s when the wild elephants come down to the river to quench their thirst, learnt so many little tricks and secrets of the forests from them..

It was possibly the most beautiful months I’ve had in a very long time. It was the first time in my life I lived away from a city that long. And I couldn’t be happier that I did, even though it was only for those two months.
That’s the thing about having lived in a city your entire life; you are so deeply cut off from nature, you don’t know what to do or how to be when you’re put in the heart of it. You feel uneasy, because for so long you have lived only in an urban jungle.

This post is an ode to my newfound tribal skin. Blue

Photographs by the awesome Ajay Koli :*


Hitler’s Blue Eyes

Hitler’s friend as a youth in Linz and Vienna was August (Gustl) Kubizek. He later wrote about Hitler’s eyes:

“Never in my life have I seen any other person whose appearance – how shall I put it – was so completely dominated by the eyes. They were the light eyes of his mother, but her somewhat staring, penetrating gaze was even more marked in the son and had even more force and expressiveness.

It was uncanny how these eyes could change their expression, especially when Adolf was speaking. To me his sonorous baritone voice meant much less than the expression of his eyes. In fact, Adolf spoke with his eyes, and even when his lips were silent one knew what he wanted to say.

When he first came to our house and I introduced him to my mother, she said to me in the evening, ‘What eyes your friend has!’ And I remember quite distinctly that there was more fear than admiration in her words. If I am asked where one could perceive, in his youth, this man’s exceptional qualities, I can only answer, ‘in the eyes.’”

The young Hitler I knew, Young Hitler: The Story of Our Friendship, August Kubizek, 1955, page 42.

You take my shoes. I take yours.

I will admit. I have a dirty run down pair of shoes, and my mother has a habit of throwing things like that out. Without telling me.

I thought she had thrown away my shoes. I asked her and she said. “Check the garbage first.” Naturally when her and my father left I looked through the garbage can. One disgusting bag later and no shoes. Convinced she threw them out somewhere else. I decided I needed to get some revenge.

She has her shoes on a shoe rack, so I meticulously took out just the left shoe out of every slot and then hid them around our house. When they got home my mother laughed when she saw her missing shoes and then asked me where they were. I told her, “Check the garbage first.”

That was about a month ago. She still hasn’t found all her shoes yet. And turns out she did not throw mine away. She was hiding them in a closet.

Hi Everyone! Bad News! : )

So! My mother has recieved notification that our house is being foreclosed on in two days! That’s right! TWO DAYS!

TWO DAYS for me to pack up 19 years of my life!

So! I have multiple places that I can go, but I don’t currently have a job nor can I drive. Yet. So if you guys don’t hear from me for a little bit, thats why! Trying to get my life together basically!

Also, it is CONFIRMED that my father has known about this for QUITE some time and is only JUST NOW telling us this!

So! If I’m absent for a while that’s why. Love you all!!!

me, my mother and my brother: nearly go homeless bc our house got foreclosed on

jace: :// can you just. stop it maybe? ://///;/:://:

ok my college is fucked up. a rich ass spoiled girl is getting her entire tuition covered bc of her “financial need” but my mom is over here selling our house and moving in with her mother bc we can’t afford to live in it? let alone afford college? Ok :)


In Our Mothers’ House by Patricia Polacco

Marmee, Meema, and the kids are just like any other family on the block. In their beautiful house, they cook dinner together, they laugh together, and they dance together. But some of the other families don’t accept them. They say they are different. How can a family have two moms and no dad? But Marmee and Meema’s house is full of love. And they teach their children that different doesn’t mean wrong. And no matter how many moms or dads they have, they are everything a family is meant to be..

And Tango Makes Three by Justin Richardson

In the zoo there are all kinds of animal families. But Tango’s family is not like any of the others. Based on the true story of two male penguins at the Central Park Zoo who built a nest and hatched a chick together, this book tells a heartwarming story for all families.

Heather Has Two Mommies by Leslea Newman

Heather’s favorite number is two. She has two arms, two legs, and two pets. And she also has two mommies. When Heather goes to school for the first time, someone asks her about her daddy, but Heather doesn’t have a daddy. Then something interesting happens. When Heather and her classmates all draw pictures of their families, not one drawing is the same. It doesn’t matter who makes up a family, the teacher says, because “the most important thing about a family is that all the people in it love one another.”

honestly cannot wait to b a lesbian mother and like decorate our entire house w knick knacks and omg!!! I’ll have white boards on all of the bedroom doors BECAUSE THEYRE FUN!!! and some traffic light system I got out of therapy lol. and like im gonna have so much fun w my kids and take them out for cool picnics and give them random history facts and take them to the museums too!!!!!I wanna travel w them as well, we’ll probably have to settle for the cheap airlines and economy class tickets but we shall try our best to entertain them and um. kids make me so happy i love kids!!! I want to have inside jokes with my kids and like watch as many films w them as i possibly can and i can’t wait to help them w their homework i want to make sure they do good in school and if they’re falling behind ill still try n support them and make sure they get the help they need and I wanna tuck them in bed and make up my own stories and tell them till they sleep w my wife beside me and then we turn off the bedside lamp and all the lights off. we go downstairs, probs have like a sparkling beverage and eat a few snacks and put on some quiet music and sit on the sofa n we’re probs only gonna get 5 hours of sleep which will be bad cause we gotta go work tmrw but we’re like really happy!!!! We love each other!!! We love our kids !!!! Also i paint her nails


I always seem to get myself in these situations, and this time I’m not alone. I dragged my sister into this, I put her life in danger and I hate myself for it. Over the course of the last year Ann and I have spiraled, we go out, drink, smoke, you name it. We made our way into the groups of people you wouldn’t want you’re fifteen-year-old and sixteen-year-old to hang out with. They treated us like little siblings, teaching us the dark and twisted ways of the high social life. We didn’t care anymore, we were barely passing classes and hardly even going to school these days. We leave the house whenever we want taking advantage of our mother’s sickness, Rock meet bottom.

So now here we sit in the house of a twenty-two-year-old who has gotten his girlfriend pregnant, the baby is probably asleep in one of the many rooms in the house while they sit on the couch high on whatever drug is being passed around. The one thing Ann and I haven’t done is drugs, we stick to the low-key substances, thankful for Cole’s protective brother instincts when it comes to us. Cole is a triplet, his brothers Matt and Luke decided to stay at home today complaining about the after effects of last night’s booze fest. Ann and I have known them for most our lives, they are a good three years older and in some ways the reason why we are down this path. They’ve always been around, protecting, leading us into whatever they seem to get involved in.

Now I wish I never knew them.

Morry and his girlfriend Elane are so hyped up on drugs they seem to have forgot that Ann and I are here, Cole just as high as them is trying his best not to rip his friend Lenny to shreds. Lenny said some offensive things that Cole can’t seem to forget. Morry seems more agitated than anything.

“Shut the hell up” Morry exclaims, everyone seems to flinch.

Cole sighs, “You’ll get what’s coming for you.” His gaze solely on Lenny.

I fight the erg to leave, looking between Ann and Cole I see a moment of unease in Ann’s eyes, this upsets me and I don’t hold back the look of irritation as I look to Cole. He senses my look and he looks away in an instant. Good, he should feel guilty.

Lenny just smirks, enjoying the reactions he’s getting from Cole, he seems to eat it up. Asshole.

“Ah… baby Cole quick to temper I see.”

Any restraints Cole had snapped as he lunged for Lenny, his one hand holding him by the neck while the other slams into his face repeatedly. It all happened to quickly, Ann’s chair was knocked over and she was crawling to the nearest wall out of the way, I ran to her side as I watched it all go down. I didn’t even recognize the fact that Morry had left the room until he returned, but his hand seemed to be holding a gun. I gulped in surprise holding Ann closer to my body knowing it would do her no protection, but I didn’t stop inching forward to cover her up.

“Enough!” Morry screamed at the top of his lungs. Somewhere in the distance I swear I could hear a baby cry. Elane got up and rushed to the other side of the house, probably to tend to the crying baby while her boyfriend waves his gun around like a buffoon. 

Cole pushes of Lenny, knuckles bruised and bloody. While Lenny turns and spits blood to the floor, his nose skew.

“Oh, put the gun away, just having a little fun” Cole smirks.

“Get out of my house.” Morry waves his gun to the door.

So, shocked and totally disgusted with the situation I got up first pulling Ann with me, I glance down to where Cole still sits on the floor. “Asshole.” I mutter.

When we get outside I walk faster to the car, I hear footsteps running after us, I don’t wait.

“Chrissy, wait I’m sorry.” Coles breath hitches with every step, no doubt exhausted from the beating he gave Lenny. This makes me ache with anger.

“Don’t you dare Cole, this was the last time. You claim that we are your family but then you put Ann’s life in danger. How could you?” I snapped.

“I – I didn’t know it would go that far.” Never looking me in the eye. Coward.

Chuckling to myself. “No, you didn’t. because you don’t think Cole, you don’t think about anyone but yourself.”

He lunged and grabbed my shoulder as I turned, as quickly as he gripped me my arm swung and my hand hit the side of his face with such force he staggered back. Eyes wide he rubbed his side of his face where it already turned red.

“Don’t – touch me again.” Tears stung my eyes as I looked at him and turned.

-( via boundtotheballad)

Confessions pt 2

Part 1 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 //

Genre: extra mild smut ??? but not really ???? idk 

My roommate was a talker. Her name was Jung Eunbi and she apparently lacked the need for oxygen.

She started talking the moment I entered our room after my encounter with Min Yoongi and she and didn’t stop for air. Not even once

“I wonder if her Manhattan school kicked her out for continuously disturbing the peace” I thought.

I kept giving her a few nods here and there, whenever it felt appropriate until she suddenly stopped her rant.

“Anyways!” “Are you ready?”

“For what?”

“For the house meeting! We’re gonna meet our house mother!”

“Ohhhh, Right ” I said, slowy standing up

“Doesn’t that sound so seventeen hundreds? We have a house mother,” Eunbi said, cracking herself up. “I can’t wait to meet the rest of the girls on our floor.” She looked at me expectantly.

“Yeah. Me neither,” I said, forcing a smile onto my face.

Unfortunately, I had already seen the girls on our floor. Seen them chatting on their high end smartphones,  wearing expensive name-brand shoes and designer bags and I already knew that I was way in over my head.

They all seemed as if they already knew one another. They approached one another easily and talked like old friends- as if they had all lived here together their entire lives, creating a specific style that I would never be able to match. There wasn’t a single item in my closet that didn’t scream “Wall-Mart frequent shopper” but I was totally fine with that.

The thing is, I didn’t know how to do this. I didn’t know how to chat and tell secrets and be friends. 

I didn’t do birthday parties or slumber parties or anything else, and as a result no one at my old school knew anything about me. Which was just the way I wanted it.

What I had never realized was that after seven years of antisocial behavior, I had made myself socially incompetent. Incapable of any sort of teenage normalcy. I was a sorry excuse for a girl, and no matter how much I wanted to, I was starting to wonder if there was anything I could do to change. If there was anything I could possibly do to make people want to get close to me.

The meeting was being held in the common room on our floor, the Schubert building.

We walked into the common room and saw dozens of girls crowding around the couches and chairs, chatting and laughing. The place was packed. The thick atmosphere of perfumes and scented hair products choked the air.

What followed was a long talk about the rules and regulations, all of which were listed in the handbook we all had back in our rooms. Of course, I had thought that some of them were just for show to make the parents feel like they were sending us to a nice, disciplined school, but it turned out that they were all real and that the school took them very seriously. 

We really did have to sign in with Ms. Chwe in her room on the first floor every night before ten. After that, we weren’t allowed to leave our floors without express permission from Ms. Chwe herself. We were not allowed inside the building in between classes. Guys were only allowed inside the dorm between the hours of six and nine each night, and then they were only permitted in the common rooms.


That night, since there was nothing to study for yet, quiet hours were suspended so that each floor could have a little get-to-know-each-other party. I was never good at parties, so I was kind of dreading it, even though I knew I should just go.  If I wanted a new start I was going to have to go against instinct, which meant being social. The very idea gave me cramps though, so I avoided thinking about it and flipped through the book on my bed while Eunbi got ready. And talked. A lot.

Where’s her off button? I thought.

“So when we finally got to the bottom of the mountain, I was totally dehydrated and had this streak of mud all the way up my side and this guide was waiting for us there and he was like, ‘Did you not see the trail?’ and we were like, ‘What trail?’”

I smiled because I could feel her looking at me and it sounded like the point in the story where she would expect some kind of reaction.

She rolled her eyes at me and said “Anyway, are you ready?”

The moment of truth. I put the book down.

“Maybe I’ll come down later” I said giving her an apologetic look.

“Okay,” she said with a shrug. “But don’t blame me if all the good snacks are gone!”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said with a forced smile.

As soon as the door was closed I felt really bad for bailing.

I slapped my face and thought “What’s wrong with me?”

I buried my face in my pillow in annoyance. There’s no way I’m ever going to make friends if I just sit alone in my room. I know this. But still, somehow, I can’t bring myself to move.

I sighed and leaned back from my pillow, standing straight and settling into my self-imposed exile.

So this was my new home.

Within five seconds of seeing my half-empty side of the huge closet, Eunbi had asked, “Do you mind?” and then jammed up the empty space with all her clothes.

It all contributed to my feeling that I didn’t fit in or, more precisely that there wasn’t enough of me to fill a place like this.

I heard laughter outside the window and stood up. The large window with a sill big enough to sit on was hands down, the best thing about of our room.  I sat down on the sill and stared out the window.

 Another peal of a high pitched laugh rang somewhere out in the darkness and my heart ached.

What the hell was I doing here? How could I possibly have thought this would be a good idea?

I leaned my temple against the glass and I forced myself not to cry.

This was unbelievable. Was I really homesick? Homesick for the place I dreaded my whole life?

In my mind i saw my dog wagging his tail when my dad got home, expecting to see me as well. I saw the ugly flowered wallpaper my parents had hung in my bedroom before they knew I was kind of a tomboy, a wallpaper I had always hated but which now felt like the perfect emblem of home.

Maybemaybe the problem has nothing to do with where I am. I thought.

No. This was not acceptable. I was not a weakling. I had made my choice. I was not going to call my father and beg him to come back for me. There was nothing in back home for me. I knew this. I just had to focus on it. I stared into the darkness, at the lights in the windows of the other dorms, and told myself that I belonged here. I forced myself to try to believe it.

I will be happy here. I will make friends. This is the beginning of a whole new life.

I heard the high pitch laughter again, and that was when I saw him. He was in his room, his window right across mine.

He was only wearing boxers and and he was unbuttoning his shirt. He laughed again at something that was out of my eye range. I identified him as the owner of the high pitched laugh I just heard a few seconds ago.

I couldn’t stop my eyes from tracing his body.

His body definitely didn’t match with his rounded baby face at all.

He had thick muscular thighs. I could clearly see the prominent bulge hiding behind the fabric of his boxers. The ghost of a happy trail leading to his very defined abs. He had a really nice chest and his arms were thick, strong, lean and muscular at the same time.

I felt heat pooling in the pit of my stomach and I couldn’t help but to instinctively press my thighs together looking for some sort of relief.

I was so fascinated by him that I didn’t really care about the fact that I was being a complete pervert, and I turned fully towards the window now, crossing my legs Indian style in front of me and balancing on the window sill focusing my attention on the boy in front of me.

But before I can even process what’s happening he looks outside.

My eyes widened in surprise and my heart stopped, startled at his abruptness, but it took me a good long moment to realize he was staring right at me.

I had mistaken his gaze as unfocused, but I saw now that it was the exact opposite. He looked right through me, around me, all over me, taking in everything and turning me inside out.

Embarrassed, I looked quickly away, pretending to be distracted by something in the room, but it was no use. I had to look back.

And when I did, he was still staring.

I was breathless. I was caught. But I couldn’t look away.

He looked down at his almost naked form and smirked at me, as he slowly snatched the curtains closed.


“The Bangtan House? That’s an upperclassmen only house.. Well, except from their maknae but that’s unprecedented. And even if you’re a junior or senior, you have to meet certain requirements to get in. it’s the only mixed dorm on campus”

“Requirements?” I asked.

“If you meet their requirements, you get an invitation from them at the end of the year. It’s very very selective. You have to be an integral part of the Brentwood community to live there.”

Her expression said, “You will never live there.”

I had just met Irene five minutes before and already I
felt like choking her. I would never have even bothered talking to her if Eunbi hadn’t told me that she knew everything there was to know about the school.

I had looked up the dorm behind mine in the catalog, but other than its name, Bangtan building, there was no information at all.

The Brentwood cafeteria was a cavernous room. We walked through the cafeteria until we found an empty table.

“The point is, not just anyone can get into Bangtan-
You have to be … special,” Irene said as she pulled out her chair.

“And it’s like once you live there, you’re golden,” Yeri added.

“They all get good grades, even if they sucked before.” Mina, another girl from our floor interjected.

“Plus every captain of every team and every president of every club lives there”.

“They’re achievers,” Irene said. 

“And college? Forget about it,” Mina said. “They get recommendations from all the Bangtan ex alumnae and every single one of them ends up at an Ivy. Every single one.”

“You’re kidding,” I said.

“I shit you not,” Mina said. “Their track record is perfect

“Yes, it is, I can’t wait until next year. To have one of those huge rooms? The cages they have us in now have got to be a human rights violation.” Irene said with a disgusted face.

“What makes you think you’re going to live there? I thought you had to be invited,” I said pointedly.

“I will be. I’m a legacy,” She said. Like, duh. “Both my mother and my brother lived in the Bangtan building.”

Okay. Now I hated her even more. The fact that someone like that could just have something like bangtan handed to her in a silver plate just illustrated everything that was wrong with the world.

“Check it out,” a girl at the table said, lifting her chin. “Speak of the devils.” 

I looked up and there they were, striding two-by-two toward a table in the very center of the cafeteria. Leading the pack was a boy with dimples that had a stack of books in his hand. He whispered something to the boy next to him, a tall guy with broad shoulders filling his crimson blazer. He had a face so pretty you thought you could die.

I froze 

Behind them was the sly boy.

the one I saw almost naked.

his brown hair was messy. He walked confidently, his back straight and his chin up. A girl stared at him as he passed her by and he winked at her. Her face turned a deep crimson color.

The boy laughed to himself, triumphant, his eyes disappearing into crescents. He was even more beautiful up-close 

The image if his thick thighs and defined muscles was carved in my mind and i felt something stir in my stomach.

Did he see me? Would he recognize me? God I hope not.

I just wanted to disappear into thin air. Or dig my way to china. They say china is really pretty this time of the year….

Walking next to him, there was a boy with the same overall demeanor, but with a big boxy smile. 

They really were here. They really did exist.

“I would kill to be with jin” a girl at my table said, leaning her chin on her hand.

“Yeah. Like That’s gonna happen,” Irene said sarcastically.

“Which one’s jin?” Eunbi asked.

“the pretty one with the crimson blazer”

I hummed in appreciation. He was prettier than most of the girls I had seen in my life.

“Oh look that’s jeon jungkook!” Mina pointed at the the big guy who was sitting in the table with the others.

I yelped in surprise when I noticed that he was the boy who caught my punt yesterday when I was talking to Min yoongi.

Min Yoongi.

 I hadn’t seen him since our encounter yesterday.

I looked around the cafeteria, searching for a glimpse of his bright minty hair, but it was nowhere to be seen.

Where is he? I thought.

I didn’t think it could be that hard to find a boy with bright mint hair in a small crowd, but apparently it was.

“Jungkook is Bangtan’s younger member in like forever. he is just a sophomore but rumor has it that Harvard, Seoul national University, and Yale are all fighting for him.” She continued.

 “Who’s the reader guy?” I asked when I gave up in all prospects of finding yoongi again and looked back at the bangtan table and noticed that dimple boy had his nose stuck in a book.

“That’s Kim Namjoon. He is bangtan’s leader. the smartest person ever to step foot on campus” Irene said. “His family owns half  of the east side”

“he’s a composer” the girl next to her added “he writes half the literary magazine every quarter, he’s really deep.”

 I was impressed.

but I couldn’t get my eyes off sly boy, he was sitting next to the leader.  

His face was round and he had chubby cheeks, but a sharp and defined jawline. He had this smug yet playful look on his face as if he was constantly amused by everything around him. I glanced around and noticed that at least half the female population of the room was in fact watching him, most of them practically drooling

I shook my head and tried to get rid of last night images still clouding my mind.

From what I gathered around sly boy and his friend were Jimin and Taehyung: aka the party dúo.

Apparently their parties were legendary, but of course, only a selected crowd was invited to them.

How did they manage to throw parties in this place without getting caught? Not a clue.

I stared across their table, my pulse racing with a new sense of excitement. A few more girls sat down at the other end of their table, every last one of them beautiful, though to me they seemed second-string compared to the five boys who sat down first.

I couldn’t help but notice that in the center of the table, where the 5 boys were sitting, two spots were empty.

“What about all the others?” I asked.
“Eh, they’re in Bangtan too.”

My heart pounded against my rib cage. I had never wanted anything as much as I wanted to be at that table right then. All I had done since I had arrived here was dig myself a hole. If I could just enter that inner sanctum, every door at Brentwood would open up to me. I would never have to worry about being accepted or fitting in.