Daisy Jones & The Six

by Taylor Jenkins Reid

It messes with you, when your own father doesn’t care about you enough to say hello.

I know right

mahogany

Effie trinket

she turned toward him, at the end, at the very end, and sang right to him. She was looking right at him and singing at the top of her lungs. Her face went a little red. And he sang, looking right back at her. He didn’t break her gaze.

Silver springs