#8: mental health is important. take care of yourself.
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"𝐖𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐓-𝐏𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄-" Dai muttered to herself. "Or maybe kidnap his dog? Does he have a dog? I know—blow up his front porch with gasoline..."
Valentine lay next to her on Dai's bed, nursing a mug of hot chocolate. Dai's laptop was propped up at the end of her bed, the two girls curled up together on the other side. She'd insisted to she was fine to sleep over for movie marathon night, but Dai didn't seem very interested in Ocean's 8.
"We show up at his house and start throwing his shit," Her best friend suggested, waving a vengeful finger. "Val? Val?"
"Daiiiiii," She clicked pause on the laptop. "As nice as that sounds, Sandra Bullock is in a suit and I'd prefer to watch that."
"Right. Yeah."
But the muttering continued.
"Dai." Valentine paused the film, again. "Look, it's not a big deal-"
"You were drugged, Val. This is serious. You could've died."
"Okay, yes," She agreed. "Someone's trying to kill me. That's...kind of hot?"
"What?" Dai blinked, taken aback. "No, girl, what the actual fuck?"
"I'm just saying," She shrugged, sipping from her mug. It was one of Dai's, bold print, a gag gift from Thomas: WORLD'S OKAYEST PRESIDENT.
"Not hot," Said Dai, growing increasingly concerned. "Homicide...is not hot."
"I mean, when you put it like that-"
"Why aren't you taking this seriously? This is police shit. Like, actually dangerous. S'not a movie. It's real."
Valentine frowned. "I know. It's just-" She sipped again. "If I don't remember it, did it technically happen?" She tapped her head. "Loophole. Big brain moment."
