I wanted to say that no, Lana Alder didn’t hold a candle to her mysterious, punch-to-the-balls beauty. That Sailor had discipline and passion and morals, and you couldn’t beat those with a toothy, white smile. I knew, because I was a Lana, and the dudes with the talent always left me eating dust when it came to the finish line. Look at my friend Vaughn, who got an internship in England. Or Knight, who was attending his college of choice and slaying the fuck out of life. I wanted to say reality catches up with the myth. Always.
