|| Alrighty, it’s been a day since the finale and I’m still not over it. So I started writing. And this came up, hopefully you’ll like it :)

prompt: “the food at this restaurant is crappy/ don’t like it, i just come to watch you play/sing” ||

“I honestly don’t know why you keep insisting on coming here, man,” my best friend tells me, shaking his head, “you don’t even like mexican food.”

“Well, maybe I’m starting to,” I say, shrugging. Gastón didn’t look as if he believed me.

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