“But nothing. New York is you and Izzy and Waylon’s dream.” I press a hand to my chest. “Not mine.” Eyes creasing, he says, “What’s your dream then?” You. You’re my dream.”
“But nothing. New York is you and Izzy and Waylon’s dream.” I press a hand to my chest. “Not mine.” Eyes creasing, he says, “What’s your dream then?” You. You’re my dream.”
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