“I’m already having a party for one right here,” he said, settling back into his seat on the couch. “Fuck that. This is the most pathetic birthday I’ve ever seen. Those pants are stained for fuck’s sake. What the hell has happened to you, man? You used to be cool!” Lance looked down at the orange stain on his grey sweatpants and a smirk pulled at his lips. “I had spaghetti,” he said defensively. “Please tell me it was at least made from scratch by the kitchen staff, and you didn’t just microwave it,” I said. “Well, it was fresh yesterday…” “Fuck no. You’re not spending your birthday in stained
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