“Best of luck with the musical,” I said. And she looked pleased. Happy with herself or maybe even with her so-called best friend. But there was a crack in the hull of me, and I was sinking. She didn’t yet know, but I wasn’t going down alone. “I hope you sing your fucking heart out,” I spat, stepping closer to her. I took a deep breath and hissed through my teeth, “And I hope you stutter through every line.”
Oh gurllll noo
