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Y'all, if someone opened this goddamn app, look what they would see . . . and this is before the new stories . . . :p

You can find this app on the appstore.  

It's whatsapp but fake . . . so you can create the shit. 

It's called 'whatsfake' search it up. 

*Spencer's POV*

I hung out with Demi that evening, droping the fact that she had a daughter. Demi didn't seem to like that topic to much and I wanted to have a good night with her . . . if you catch my drift. 

That moring I tagged along with her to the studio and listened to her record some music.

She came out and smiled at me taking a long drink of water.

After her studio time, we went out to eat and that's where I finally asked, what had beeen on my mind all day. 

"So, I've been thinking" 

"That's never good. Remember what happened yesterday?"

"Yeah, but . . . anyway I was thinking bout the future. Kids, marriage, you, me . . . I want us" I spoke and I could see Demi was confused. 

"We have an us?" 

"No, a future us"

"I'd hope we had a future us"

"DEMETRIA!" I yelled, causing people to look at us. 

"What?" She laughed and I glared at her. 

"Be serouis" I pouted and she sighed, giving me her full attention.

"We've known each other for almost three years. You've been seeing each other for almost a year. We've been dating for almost 5 months. I want to know what you're thinking. If you see us with a future" I frowned, looking down at my plate of food in front of me. 

"I see a future with you, but I don't know for how long. That's the truth of it" Demi told me calmly and I glanced up through my lashes.

"So one day we could end?" 

"That's a possibility" Demi nodded, watching my closely.

"I don't want that  to happen" I pouted making her sigh.

"I don't either but if I planned how life worked, we wouldn't be here right now" Demi spoke sternly, like she was talking to a child which made me feel bad. 

"Please stop treating me like a child" I frowned, playing with the food on my plate.

"I'm not. You wanted a answer and I gave you a truthful one" She snapped.

"Why are you so fucking grumpy?" 

"Why are you so up in my business!?" 

"BECAUSE I'M YOUR GIRLFRIEND!"

"STOP YELLING! YOU WANT THE WHOLE WORLD TO KNOW?!"

"YES!" I shouted, storming out of my seat, leaving $20 on the table and leaving the building.

I called for an Lyft car and I had about 8 minutes to kill; so they said.

I hide by a building so that way if Demi came looking, she didn't find me.

When my Lyft pulled up, I told her the address to my complex quickly, which was about a half an hour drive.

When my Lyft pulled up, I told her the address to my complex quickly, which was about a half an hour drive

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* * * *

"Come on Oliver" I patted my thigh, putting a lead on him.

I took Oliver on a walk, leaving my phone home so I didn't feel the alert of Demi's spam messaging. 

I knew what I wanted and Demi doesn't want the same yet and I don't know where that will leave us.

I'm to young to get married and have kids, but I'm also old enough to not want to hide my relationship. 

I'm turning 23 in a month, Demi is turning 25 in a few months . . . yeah we're still 20, and have a life to figure out, but  I want to be able to hold her hand down the street, or post a photo or have her in a video and kiss her and be affectionate to her and have her, not think about it and just do it. 

I want to do everything I could do with someone who isn't a celebrity but at the same time, I want Demi  and this all comes along with her and I love  her but I also want  to do these thing's with her because I want to show the world that I love her and that she is mine. It's selfish, but I am happy to be selfish if I get to show off my love towards the women I love, yet she doesn't want the same thing?

I passed a flower shop while walking Oliver and I sighed. 

I immediately thought of Demi and valentines day and mentally cursed to the worlds above.

I  knew I needed to go back and talk to Demi and I would drive to her house, but I have no clue where it is, since I've never been and I didn't want her to come to my apartment because it always seems that when she comes over, sex happens. I mean, i'm not complaining . . . but I am. 

* * * *Written on: 2 / 18 / 18

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* * * *
Written on: 2 / 18 / 18

Published on: 2 / 24 / 18

Word count: 811

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