I don’t care how some girl from Miami thinks my hair should look, and I’d stop her myself if I wasn’t completely distracted by Daisy and my fucking bartender having the chat of their God damn lives. I didn’t leave her there to talk to Matthew the Hot Australian Bartender. I left her with Henry, whom I know she’d never shag, but now he’s gone and disappeared and it’s Daisy and the bartender, whom I heard someone refer to last week as “Fuckable Matt”.
i love a jealous trope
