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Enchanted

The chances of boarding the MRT and overhearing two girls just an arm's length away talking about a person you know (and kind of like) is like, 1 in 10,000. It was surreal, and I actually didn't know whether I should just feign napping or look at them pointedly and let them recognize me as a student at Malcolm so that they will stop. I ended up putting my hand over my face pretending nothing was more important that sleep, and trying desperately hard to catch every word they uttered about *him*.  That is, over the sound of buses and the clang clang and other machine-y sounds of the MRT.

I feel sad.

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amianan_a_raya
amianan_a_raya

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