Room 417, Friday afternoon
Jaye had meant to leave her room. She did. She'd decided she'd seen far too much of America's Next Top Model and needed to leave, but she'd only managed to open the door before she decided she had to know who won the last cycle and whether anyone fell down on the runway.
And now she's stitting cross-legged on the bed, completely unable to leave the room. She's debating popcorn, but the commercial breaks aren't long enough.
[For those days when you're dying to play but just can't handle the CR. Door's open.]
And now she's stitting cross-legged on the bed, completely unable to leave the room. She's debating popcorn, but the commercial breaks aren't long enough.
[For those days when you're dying to play but just can't handle the CR. Door's open.]