    SPORTS BRAS. all the fashion these days, and dylan almost hadn’t even packed one. well, thank fuck she had. all her clothing fucking stunk. she’d been avoiding going to the laundry matt. why was she avoiding it?? in all fairness, there wasn’t much of a VALID reason. she simply didn’t feel like going. but now, with every single piece of her clothing stinking--- yeah, she regretted it. the day was relatively warm, another thank fuck for the returned normal temperature. if it had been cold as it used to be she would have been forced to wear one of her ( STINKING ) shirts. another reason she hated going to the laundry matt? BUSES. the cheapest way to get there ( sorry, but a polite fuck you to lyft and uber ) but not her favorite form of travel. but whatever. no choice was left. so zipping up her dirty clothes, spraying FEBREZE on them so hopefully, no one would note the smell, dylan hopped onto the bus. upon being set with a pair of lingering eyes in her direction, she challenged. “do i have something funny on my face? or is there another reason you’re staring?” the guy sputtered only for a moment before turning his head in a huff. “yeah, that’s what i thought.” turning to the nearest passenger, she let loose a sigh. “men, right?” MEN. most of them retained a capital U in Ugh.Â
