Sequel: Stitches

Bombshell

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I pulled my knees up to my chest and rested my chin on my knees. Oliver sat next to me on the poorly shingled roof, he had a cigarette in-between his lips and vacant look on his face.

“What’s your secret?”

“I don’t want to be who I am.” He whispered.

Oliver Sykes is the last person I would have expected to say that.