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The Fine Art of Survival | Part 4: Malaki O'Brien
“As far back as I can remember...I can remember Manhattan." -A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints by Dito Montiel
Malaki’s earliest memory of his life was of sitting on his mother’s lap as they took the 7 train all the way to Times Square to go shopping, his parents still getting used to the Subway and the different areas of the city. He remembered watching the city fly by before his eyes, hearing a man tapping drumsticks against a few buckets as he sang out a song Malaki never learned the lyrics to. His mom rarely let go of him the entire time, the ride back home consisting of being squished in a pile of shopping bags.
As a teenager, Mal would take the same trip every weekend. Starting with Times Square, he’d pick a random train and ride it as long as he could until he got bored and hoped on another one, taking down notes of all of the people he had seen, places he had visited and the countless emotions that had run through him. This was his city. His home. And it was the one thing that seemed to keep him grounded. Whether it was taking the train, or watching the ball drop on New Years or having a plethora of options for restaurants, Malaki loved all of it, even with all of the bad memories it held.
Mal never met Amory Fitzgerald for lunch. He threw the watch away, along with the card and the bottle of whiskey he had grabbed from his fridge. Instead he grabbed his jacket and his wallet and headed to the 14th street 1 train near his apartment, getting himself a metro card and rode it until it’s stop at Times Square. Pushing through the crowds of tourists and strollers, Mal walked until he reached the very middle of Times Square, staring up at the sky with his tired eyes, the same way he had when he was a baby. He waited for a grand moment to hit him, for Snow Patrol to start playing and for someone to come out of nowhere and tell him where to go or what to do. Instead he got pushed aside by a group of teenagers running around and questioned by NYPD officer to see if he was all right.
Getting back on the train, he rode it back to 14th street, wandering around his neighborhood as he tried to figure out where to go next. The city was his playground as his mother used to say. He could go anywhere he wanted to. Checking his watch, he saw that he had six hours before the Annie’s building closed for the night. Taking the train back to the same bar from the night before, he picked up his car and drove to Annie’s.
The offices were mostly empty as he walked inside, the few people who had managed to drag themselves in on a Saturday almost falling asleep at their desks. Once inside his office, Mal shut the door behind him and let out a long breath, moving towards the large windows. Standing in the same manor that Loic had that day so many years ago, Mal let out a laugh as he whispered to himself, “Good work, Mr. O’Brien.”
The sun was starting to set and pretty soon everyone around the office would be heading out to party, drink and leave the work world behind them. Turning towards his desk, Mal pulled out his keys to his car and set them on the desk. It was a gorgeous car. A black Lamborghini that Reina had gotten him. It was one of the few things he had found it hard to give up after the divorce. Pulling his Annie’s ID from his wallet, he set it down beside his keys, pulling out a piece of paper from his desk before grabbing a pen and scribbling a small note.
To Whom It May Concern,
Consider this my resignation.
Sincerely,
M. O’Brien.
He stared down at the note in amusement, before sliding the pen in his pocket and taking one last look around the room. He found it hard to be sad, to feel a hint of regret as he walked out of the door and then out of the building, his eyes moving up to the sky as he walked to catch another train. But his eyes weren’t tired or sad. They were hopeful and kind. This was his city. His own world. And it was the only one he ever really fit into.
The Fine Art of Survival | Part 3: Amory Fitzgerald
“I'm gonna make him an offer he can't refuse.”
– Mario Puzo, The Godfather
Malaki was eighteen when it happened. The newspapers and news station couldn’t talk about anything else. “Supermodel gets arrested for murder.” It was a shock to everyone, including Amory Fitzgerald himself. Mal hadn’t been invested enough to learn more but can recall his sister running around crying about how the love of her life had been wrongly accused.
“But Malaki! He’s so dreamy and charming and gorgeous. How could he kill his fiancée? I’m telling you! He didn’t do it!”
“Becca. He was convicted. He obviously did it. You’ll get over it. There are a million other fish in the sea.”
The argument always ended with Becca huffing and puffing as she stormed off to her room and slammed the door closed. The name ‘Amory Fitzgerald’ never entered his mind until Amory was released from prison eleven years later. Malaki had been advised to be wary of the former supermodel as rumors circulated about his intended return to the fashion industry. He tried not to buy into the rumors, preferring to focus on picking up the pieces that Loic had left behind. But then, Malaki started to see Amory at Annie’s parties and New York Fashion Week and every time he would come across the man, Amory would smile at him as if he knew everything about him; a feeling that sent shivers up Mal’s spine.
Amory fell away from Malaki’s mind again as Annie’s became an even more hectic environment. The new Isabelle was acting as if she own Annie’s and the Creative Director Bambi Larue was convinced that she owned it. After getting into an argument with Bambi’s boyfriend in the lobby of Annie’s when the young man claimed that Malaki was running it into the ground, Mal started to question just how much his employees cared about him, let alone the company. Whenever Mal walked in the doors, he swore he could hear whispers follow him along, everyone placing bets on how long he would last, how long it would take him to jump just as Loic did. Everyday seemed to get worse and it was as he approached this low that he encountered Amory Fitzgerald for the very first time.
A few weeks after his divorce, Mal started to frequent a hole in the wall bar near his apartment. After a particularly long day of fighting with Isabelle over the April issue and insisting that she need to work with her colleagues, Mal was on his fourth drink and already signaling the bartender for another. Mal didn’t see him come in, even as the bell on the door rang. He didn't look up until he heard the man’s shoes clicking against the floor. When Malaki looked up, he was met with the beaming smile of Amory Fitzgerald and another large man standing next to him that Mal had never seen before. If he hadn’t been so shocked or drunk, Mal would have laughed at how ridiculous it looked and made a comment about how this would fit right into a ‘Godfather’ remake.
“Mr. O’Brien. I was hoping I’d find you here.”
“Well…you found me.”
Mal heard Amory laugh before ordering a drink, the large man taking a seat at the end of the bar. Mal tipped his glass towards him and managed a silly smile, “Cheers, man.”
“Mr. O’Brien I-“
“Please..just call me Malaki. It’s too late for formalities. Although I have to say…Mr. Fitz..can I call you Amory? Anyway, Amory, I have to say I’m very surprised to find you in a place like this. And looking for me nonetheless. You must be worse off than I thought.” Mal laughed at himself and thanked the bartender as his next drink came, missing the look Amory gave the man at the end of the bar.
“Malaki…I came to talk to you. About your company. I’m sure you’ve heard that I have a great interest in investing and I-“
“Did you follow me? Wait..how the hell did you know I was here? Have you been stalking me? I mean, fuck, is that dude your hit man or something?
“Mal- Mr. O’Brien..please.”
“You know what? I feel like going home.” Mal reached into his pocket and lay a hundred dollar bill on the bar, smiling at the bartender. “Thank you, kind sir.”
As he moved to leave, he felt Amory catch his arm and he met his eyes for the first time. His eyes were the bluest he had ever seen and if Malaki didn’t know the man’s history he may have thought they were pretty, kind even.
“Mr. O’Brien you’re making a mistake. I’m telling you. You need my help.”
Glancing down at the hold Amory had, Mal shook his head and yanked it away. “What I need is for people like you to stay out of my life. Good night, Mr. Fitzgerald.”
Malaki expected the larger man to run after him and throw a bag over his head but instead made it safely outside and climbed into his car, resting his forehead against the steering wheel as he pulled out his phone to call a cab to take him home, afraid to stand on the corner and be harassed by Amory again. Out of his tinted windows, he could see Amory slam his car door and the larger man get in the drivers seat and pull away. He felt a hint of regret set in, knowing that Amory Fitzgerald was the last enemy he wanted to make. But he was tired of all of the people around him, tired of the business, tired of all of the headaches. What was it that kept him around? His allegiance to Loic? His determination to succeed? All of these questions passed through his head as he got out and hailed a cab, mumbling his address as he slid into the back seat.
The next morning, Mal awoke to find a package right outside his door. Carrying it over to his counter, he hesitated for a moment before grabbing his keys and sliding it along the tape to rip it open. Pushing apart the flaps, he found a small black box with a card on top, his name written in the middle of the envelope. Sliding he card out of it, he was met with the smooth and cursive writing of none other than Amory Fitzgerald.
Dear Mr. O’Brien,
I hope I didn’t make the wrong impression on you last night, and if I did then I sincerely apologize. I wish to work with you and help you. I know what’s it’s like to be a New York City boy with a dream and even more to make a life in the fashion industry. You and I are more alike than you think. If you’re willing to give me another chance, I’ll be having lunch at Carmine’s on 91st tomorrow afternoon. You should join me.
All the best,
Amory Fitzgerald.
Mal rolled his eyes as he set the card down and opened the black box to reveal a silver Rolex watch.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Setting down the box, Malaki sighed and turned towards his fridge. “Jesus Christ…I need another fucking drink.”
The Fine Art of Survival | Part 2: Reina Silvestri
“We never even tried
We never even talked We never even thought in the long run Whenever it was painful Whenever I was away I’d miss you” Sunburn by Ed Sheerhan
If anyone were to ask Malaki today how he would describe Reina Silvestri, he would usually laugh and say ‘no comment.’ But in the back of his mind, the same memory would flash through his mind. The time they first met.
Malaki was never much of a bother to his family in his early years and when they started to take him to Connecticut every weekend to see his Aunt Nora, Mal would just grab a book of his and read it all the way there and all of the way back. He was the oldest out of his cousins and far too shy to join them as they ran around their neighborhood, preferring to sit in the driveway of his aunt’s house and flip through whatever book he had picked for the day.
She came down the road on her white bike with pink tassels on the handlebars and when she passed him, Malaki still swears that she moved in slow motion and smiled at him. She was the first girl that ever made him think ‘Wow, she’s beautiful’ and from that day on, his visits were spent hiding his blushing behind his book every time he looked at her. Even as they grew up and got older, Mal never had the courage to tell her how he felt. They became good friends but as he entered college and his visits to New Haven stopped, they went in separate directions. He wanted to build rocket ships and she became the new face of Annie’s Magazine, becoming one of the youngest supermodels to grace the magazine’s pages. Malaki watched in awe as her career took off and when she announced an early retirement to help mentor other models, he had only been in the industry for a few months and had never crossed paths with her. The young boy in him was still afraid to talk to her again.
Since Malaki was a sophomore in college, he established a tradition of spending New Years Eve around Times Square but not actually immersing himself in the crowd. He’d get a one-person table at Ellen’s Stardust Diner and order a large vanilla milkshake, the ‘Be Bop A Lula Burger’ and watch as the fireworks went off outside, thousands of people ringing in the New Year. After finishing his meal, he’d walk through the confetti littered streets, smiling as drunk couples stumbled along the streets and young children fell asleep in the arms of their parents. But as he rang in 2013, his whole routine was altered when he found Reina Silvestri standing outside of the Diner, waiting for a date that never came.
She hadn’t remembered him at first, and Mal told himself her life had been far too interesting to remember some guy who she grew up with. When she finally remembered who he was, her face lit up in a way that caused Mal’s whole body to feel lighter. Her nickname for him had been, “Mali” and the sound of it coming from her lips again made him blush. From that night on, he was determined to build a friendship with her again. He was there for her every time a mentee of hers ended up in the hospital or needed an emergency appointment at a salon. He’d take the elevator up to her floor for lunch and she helped him get his foot in the door with the higher ups.
Everything with her was easier the second time around and in no time his schoolboy crush turned into a lot more. Everyone around them assumed they were together but both of them insisted that it was only friendship; they were dating different people, trying to figure out their romantic lives and convincing themselves that being together was strictly platonic. But after a drunken night of sex caused by both of them getting simultaneously dumped, their friendship spiraled into confusion and far too many feelings for either of them to handle. When their feelings were finally out in the open, Malaki was sure that his life couldn’t be any better than it was at that point.
He had proposed out of excitement. They had only been dating for a month but everything just seemed to click for them. He knew that he didn’t want anyone else; he knew that in the end it would always come back to Reina. He loved her and she loved him and he didn’t think there was much more to it. She said no at first, making him propose a second time while on vacation at Disneyland. Malaki had made it as big as possible, hiring dancers and singers and a whole band, serenading her with Frank Sinatra, all to hear her finally say ‘yes.’
Their wedding was said to be the best that New York had seen in ages. They were considered city royalty, everybody’s favorite former supermodel and the new right hand man at Annie’s. The articles that had been in the tabloids about them ranged from interviews with Reina about her dress to the food they would be serving to their hundreds of guests. On his worst days, Mal still finds himself sitting in his office, thinking of the wedding. Reina looked like a true Princess and when he closes his eyes, he remembers how happy he was and the vows he said to her.
Malaki took a deep breath, smiling brightly as Reina was in front of him, lifting up the veil and wiping away a few of her tears as he took her hands. “You look... breathtaking, Princess,” he whispered as the music died down the ceremony started. He licked his lips nervously, holding onto Reina as the officiant began to talk, going on about how they were gathered there to celebrate Malaki and Reina’s love. He smiled throughout it all, waiting for the moment when he would have to say his vows. As the time came he let go of her hands and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small piece of paper, looking at if for a moment before throwing it behind him and looking at her with a smirk on his face.
"I tried a million times to write down what I wanted to say but I realized that I wouldn’t really know what to say until this moment. Reina Silvestri I have loved you since I was a kid who knew nothing about what love even was. I was shy and timid and afraid of climbing a tree house but you took my hand and were forever patient with me. You showed me true friendship and true love and everything beautiful that comes with it. You made the nerdy kid who loved stars and books believe in himself and feel as if he could do anything as long as he always had you. I’ve spent my whole life wishing that I could make you my wife and I swear I am not being dramatic when I say that I was born to love you. You have made my whole life better and brighter just by being in it. And I know we’ve been surrounded by people all of our lives telling us what to do and what not to do. But all I know to be true is that I will love you for as long as I live and there will never be a day that I will wake up and wish for another life. You are my everything, Reina. My Princess, my girl, the love of my life and I will never, ever want another and I couldn’t be happier to spend the rest of my life with you."
The memory constantly brought him to tears that he quickly tried to wipe away and push back with a drink. He hated to mope around and pity himself but being twenty-eight years old and divorced had never been his ideal plan for his life. Reina had been the light in his life. Waking up to the sound of her singing and moving around the room helped him to have a better day. When stress became too much, all he needed was her hands upon his shoulders and her lip against his cheek and everything seemed to flush away. It was like the fairytales she had made him read to her when they were younger. But he was never Prince Charming and as much as he lied to deny it, she was far from a Princess.
Getting into a relationship with someone at work was another aspect of the job that Malaki failed to listen to Loic about. Soon the stress became too much and no kiss or touch could calm him down. Reina started to interfere with the work he was doing, upsetting their colleagues and causing him to assert himself as her boss, something he neither liked nor wanted to do. The inner child and carefree attitude that Mal had loved about Reina soon became part of what he couldn’t stand about her. She thought she could just bat her lashes and make everything better and it was his own fault for letting her believe that she could. Each fight ended with him apologizing for something he hadn’t necessarily done wrong and he was too tired to give her the answers that she wanted. Malaki started to stay at work later, call her less, distance himself from her as much as he could in an extremely noticeable way. When she asked him to try to make it work with her, he had given up. Having more friends than him both in the industry and at work, he shouldered the blame for the downfall of their relationship; some even accused him of being unfaithful, claiming that his meetings with the new editor in chief Isabelle de Souza lasted a little longer than necessary.
He had been the one to file for divorce. The couple of the century, the gorgeous wedding that had made the front page of ‘People’ magazine had given birth to a dysfunctional and unforeseen ending. The whispers of loving each other forever and a future full of happiness was all shot to hell once Malaki realized that living this life with her was the last thing he wanted. It wasn’t until the divorce was finalized that Malaki started to blame himself even more. He was CEO of one of he largest companies in the world, flying all over the world, being interviewed about his “glamorous life” when he just went home to his small apartment in New York, a dog and a fridge full of leftover take-out. Reina still sent him gifts for his birthday and Christmas, gifts that made him feel even worse about how he ended it all. Could he have tried harder? Could he have just quit his job and made it work? He tried to tell himself that it was right. They were both better off without each other. On most days he actually believed he was but at the early hours of the morning, he would find himself sitting up in bed, flipping through their wedding album, sure that he had made a mistake. It had all been a mistake.
The Fine Art of Survival | Part 1: Loic Levere
"My personal life is falling apart.”
“That’s what happens when you start doing well at work. Let me know when your entire life goes up in smoke: then it’s time for a promotion.”
- The Devil Wears Prada
The first time Malaki O’Brien met Loic Levere was after working two years as a Fashion Coordinator for Annie’s Magazine. Malaki had an extensive resume that included organizing shows for New York Fashion Week. Countless models had appeared on TV, wearing the trends that he was sure would be the next big thing. Going into Loic’s office was intimidating beyond belief. The name ‘Levere’ carried years of fashion excellence with it. His family had built an empire that continued to thrive through the ages. The office itself was grand with it’s view of the Brooklyn Bridge and the all black furniture, including his black chestnut desk that seemed fit for any man of honor. The conversation had only lasted a few minutes. Malaki hadn’t even been asked to sit down and Loic never turned around to look at him. Loic simply stared out his windows, his hands behind his back as he said, “Good job with the Valentino spread last month. He and I both thought your choices were on point. Keep up the good work, Mr. O’Brien.” And then he was dismissed, his next interaction with Loic not happening until two years later when he started to date Reina.
Malaki would insist that his hard work had gotten him to where he was but there was a part of him that knew he owed the latter part of his career to Reina. She knew the world better than he did. She knew what it was like to be in front of the cameras, putting on a show for the whole world to see. But most importantly she had to be one of the closest people to Loic. When he found himself head over heels for the woman, Loic had given him the protective father speech before Mr. Silvestri could. Every time Mal struggled with trying to understand Reina’s mood swings, Loic stepped in and assured him that all he had to do was be there, prove how much he loved her and everything would be okay. Mal often thought that it was the best and worst advice he had gotten because in the end he had given her everything and it still didn’t seem to be enough.
No one had been more surprised than Malaki when Loic appointed him COO. The title hadn’t meant much, Loic had made up the position for him, but it meant that he got to oversee everything at Annie’s while Loic went out to figure out the mess he had made of his life. It was a way of making him the CEO without actually naming him CEO. Malaki admired Loic in all sort of ways. He admired the power he held and the way his presence could inspire people and intimidate them at the same time. But Mal didn’t envy the mess that Loic’s personal life had become. Neglected children, a drug habit and countless women claiming to be the love of his life after his wife’s death were not exactly the makings for a happily every after. Malaki believed he could have both a good work life and a personal life even when Loic told him that it was a very hard thing to balance. But Mal wasn’t like everyone around him or at least he didn’t see it that way. He wasn’t born into fashion, or raised by parents who had been a part of the fashion industry. He was an Irish born, Queens raised man who grew up running through the streets with his friends, being scolded about how he needed to go to school and make something of himself. And that was his intention. It was the same intention he had when he got into NYU and bragged to his parents about how he was going to work for NASA and build rocket ships and show everyone back home just how smart he was. And he was smart. But not smart enough to pass every single exam or smart enough to say no when his little sister dragged him to every fashion show so they could stand outside for hours to catch a glimpse at a few celebrities. When he told his colleagues that he wanted to be a scientist, most of them laughed and asked him how the hell he ended up at Annie’s and his answer was always a shrug and a “That’s a damn good question.”
When Loic died, Malaki wanted to join the group of people who said they didn’t see it coming or that it was unexpected. But he knew that if he had looked t him just a little more or listened to his voicemail’s more closely, he would have seen that the man was close to the edge, that just maybe he could have pulled him back and talked him down. ‘Annies Magazine CEO jumps off hotel roof in Spain.’ The headline greeted him wherever he went for weeks. Articles about what led to his death, how his children were reacting, women coming out and claiming that they were entitled to some of his money, endless questions about who would rise to power or who would take over. As much as he had tried to avoid it, all eyes were on Malaki. The papers had named him ‘Loic Levere’s protégé’ and when none of Loic’s children were around to handle the aftermath, Mal was forced to step up and take control of a company that was ages older than him.
Malaki had another new job, a new wife who was mourning the death of one of her best friends and a whole new round of endless headaches. Everyone was waiting for him to make a wrong move and take him down but Mal was determined to prove everyone wrong. Malaki wasn’t like them or so he liked to tell himself.

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Winter TCA Tour, January 11th
Drunk in Love || Dani and Mal
They felt electric together. Dani knew she would never feel the same love she felt for Noah with anyone else, but Malaki was special to her. He was one of the very first people that she had met when she moved out to New York and he didn’t just leave her. They bonded over lost hearts and lost loves. He took her in when she was literally thrown out on her ass by the unforgiving city. She’d never feel like she’d be able to repay him for that, but she would do her damnedest. They had a spark and connection that was undeniable and she could never ignore the desire she felt for him whenever they were together intimately.
His shuddered breath was music to her ears. She loved that she held this power over Mal, the composed and professional business man. “I think I have an idea. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t doing it on purpose.” A light squeal passed her lips as he pulled her into his lap and shivers coursed through her body from the delicate touch of his fingers down the curve of her spine. Dani’s nimble fingers tangled in his hair as his lips kissed, sucked, and bit deliciously on her neck. She drank in his compliments and sweet words. “Anything for you, sir.”
Her fingers slipped down from his hair and began to undo his tie and the top button of his shirt. Her soft lips found his, kissing him urgently. Reluctantly, she pulled away, licking her lips, and untangled herself from his lap. “Ever had a lap dance? I think it’s just what you need right now.” She smirked, the corner of her bottom lip stuck between her teeth. Turning on her heel, she walked over to her closet, bending down and grabbing her favorite pair of work heels - red was starting to become her signature color. She slipped them on and walked slowly back over to where Mal was sitting. “You can look all you want. But no touching. Touch me once and the dance is over.” She hadn’t been assertive with a lover in a long time, but the rush of authority washed a light blush over her warming skin. She liked it and could only hope Malaki would too.
Slowly, Dani moved away from his chair and back to the stereo to play some music to set the scene. As the sound filled the room, she returned to her spot in front of him, but her back was facing him. She unbuttoned the borrowed shirt, slipping it down slowly to reveal inch by inch of her subtle curves. She turned around again, the only thing hiding her entire body from his searching eyes was her matched set of lacy red lingerie that left little to the imagination. Connecting their lips once more, she whispered against his lips. “Remember, look but don’t touch.” She began to sway her hips back and forth rhythmically before sitting herself in his lap again. Her hips didn’t stop moving against him and she swore she felt him stir beneath her. She splayed her fingers over his chest, the light touches teasing him.
Malaki kissed her back just as eagerly, his hands resting on the small of her back as he lost himself in her. Raising his eyebrows as she spoke, he sat back and licked his lips, "No, no I can't say that I have but I sense that I'm about to." Letting out a shuddered breath as she spoke, he slid off his tie and nodded, his hands gripping the side of the chair as he took her in, every inch of her body getting more and more sexy as the time passed. "No touching. I can do my best to do that. But I make no promises."
Kissing her back, he hardly heard her words as she started to grind her ass down on top of him, a soft moan escaping his lips as he felt the need to take off every piece of clothing that was in the way of him being as close to her as possible. Licking his lips, he let out a frustrated sigh and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up and carrying her towards the bed. "I can't stand not touching you anymore. You have no idea how badly I want you right now." Crashing his lips down on hers, he slid his shirt off before letting his hands travel down her body, his lips moving along her neck as he pushed them further up on the bed. "Fuck you are so sexy, Dani."
Mal couldn't get enough of her as he kissed along her neck, sucking softly at her pulse point as she helped him undo his belt and slide off his pants. "We haven't done this in far too long," he whispered as he pulled her on top of him, his fingers sliding underneath her underwear and gripping her ass as he pressed his body up against hers.
kevinweeks:
So after accidentally spending a couple hours watching Aretha Franklin videos on YouTube, I stumbled across this gem. Joseph Gordon-Levitt, I’d make you feel like a natural woman any time.
"I do call myself a feminist. It’s worth paying attention to the roles that are dictated to us and to realize that we don’t have to fit into those roles. We can be anybody we want to be." [x]
500 Days of JGL (#74 - 77)
"Don Jon" Screening in London | October 16, 2013

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Joseph Gordon-Levitt by Beau Grealy for Elle | 2011
[voicemail] Hey O'B, it's Josie, I'm in New York and it's fucking freezing and I want to stab myself in the eye, but if you want to meet for coffee so you can tell me how good I look with a tan and I can tell you that you're going grey, I'm down with that.
-omg yes ima cry voicemail saved-
Just so you don't think I forgot, we can blame UPS.
xoxo,
Alix.

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Next time, I think it should be me!
Now that would be quite the cover, huh?
I got the cover?
Mal! Oh my God. I have you to thank for this. Thank you, oh my God.
Ah no it was more my creative team and editors so you have them to thank!