I can’t fucking do this. I grab a magazine from the tile floor, some of the pages crinkled from being wet with shower water. It’s a fashion magazine, and I have a hard time finding a girl without a ton of makeup on. I keep flipping, and then I land on a seven-page spread. Of Daisy. In black-laced lingerie.
HELPME. LIFE IS NOT ON YOUR SIDE, RYKE.
