He was never invited to any of these gatherings, andshe'd often made it clear that she wished he'd stopped wasting his timeon his "pathetic little str...ams," but he reassured himself by imaginingthe feeling of pride he'd have when his future streaming success wouldlet him pay for exotic holidays, and expensive dates. She'd be proud ofhim then.-Five hours later he had his first view.-Suddenly struck, he shot up in his chair. What should he say? Hepanicked. He fumbled for his notes on his desk and. A lot of coffee shops. I played Redhus on St. Laurent once.” “What kind of music?” “Mostly pop pieces where I work with the arrangements,” she says. ‘And some of my own stuff too.” I hand Juliette the guitar. “Sing something for me. Something that’s yours.” “My head’s not in it.”“I want to hear you,” I gently urge. “My neighbors don’t. Not at two in the morning.” “I think it’s a lot later than that.” “Seriously? Alright, give me a second.” I lean back on the pillow.. More

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