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[ J A X ' S   P O V ]

The next few weeks almost feel like a dream.

I don't know what I've done to deserve all of this happiness—it certainly isn't because of the good things I've done, which by the way, have amounted to zero—but all I know is that I want to feel like this forever. Baxton was right. My past relationships have failed because I was too unhappy, too toxic. But now, with Blaire, all I feel is contentment.

She's the most amazing girlfriend ever, or at least, as amazing as she can be. She's happier she's with me and I often find myself doing and saying the silliest things just to see that smile on her face. Because she does smile, it's quite possibly the most beautiful thing in the world.

I know she doesn't do it too often when she's around other people and I'm glad that I am one of the very few that get to see that part of her—no matter how minuscule the gesture it may be.

Her laugh is also infectious. The way her eyes light up when I say something funny, and her lips pulled thin as she breaks into fits of laughter... it's almost surreal, like I've won the jackpot. Her laugh even makes me laugh. She has some kind of hold on me that I cannot even describe. All I know is that it's strong and I never ever want her to let go.

We spend majority of our time together. Even when she's doing her bodyguard training, I'm always with her. Whether it's at the gym or at the shooting range, I'm constantly by her side. Hunter's probably irritated by my presence, but he no doubt respects me for sticking by my girl. I don't think he expected Blaire and I to last as long as we have. I'm glad to have proven him wrong.

Hell, even Belle is surprised. Sometimes, Blaire invites her over to the mansion just to hang out. I can see why Blaire is so taken with her—Belle is the kind of person that radiates positive energy. She's an optimist, a great friend and just someone that you can feel totally comfortable hanging around with.

Belle and I joke around a lot, particularly teasing the living shit out of Blaire. She gets annoyed by it, though, but I think she's more relieved about the fact that her best friend and I are at least getting along.

She's not the only who's feeling that way. I've never had any real friends in my life—most of them I have acquired through intimidation and fear. The people I used to surround myself with really had no choice but to stick by me. They were loyal, of course, but they didn't understand me. Almost nobody could.

Until Blaire.

One time when the three of us were lazying around together and Blaire asked me if I wanted a sandwich, I told her yes and she scurried off. When she was out of earshot, Belle looked at me with surprise.

"Did she just offered to make you a sandwich?" She asked, baffled.

"Uh, yeah?" My eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"Wow," she breathed.

"I mean, she didn't use to. She used to force me to make one myself," I added quickly, unsure of where this conversation was heading, "but lately, she's been offering to make them for me. Why? Is it weird?"

"A little bit," Belle admitted. "I didn't realize she was quite taken with you until now."

What? "I don't understand," I said.

"Oh, you have a lot to learn, Jax." She leaned back against the sofa and smiled. "When Blaire makes you a sandwich, it means that she really loves you."

I choked on my own laugh. "I think you're mocking me."

"I'm not. Because it's true," Belle said. "It's her way of showing her affection. It's her way of showing that you're one of the few people that she truly cares about." She paused, then pressed on. "She loves you, Jax. She really does. Perhaps she just doesn't know it yet."

Belle's words lingered in my mind until this very day.

Blaire... loving me? God, I don't know if it's even true. Maybe Belle was messing with me, toying with my mind, getting my hopes up. But dammit, now that my hopes are indeed up, I can't help thinking if Blaire really does love me—or if there was a possibility of her loving me.

I know that she has strong feelings for me and those feelings grow every single day when we're together, but could they turn into love? I don't know. She's such a hard person to read sometimes. All I want to do is get into her mind and invade her thoughts, but the problem is that she has too thick of a fucking skull.

I don't know if she loves me—or if there was a slight chance that she would. But what I do know is that I love her and I'm too much of a pussy to say it to her face. I figured that I must have been high ever since the first time I admitted it to myself that I love her. I thought that if I slept on it the next day, I wouldn't feel like that anymore. But damn, it never went away. I still love her.

And I don't think I can ever stop.

I'm not going to admit that to her, or at least not yet anyway. Not when I'm certain that she feels the same way. Blaire and I might be at the climax of our relationship right now, but there are still things that are left uncertain between us.

But for now, I shove those ugly thoughts aside. I'm thinking way too much—perhaps one of the side effects of being in a relationship with Blaire—and I need to stop. So instead, I stop pacing around the living room and glance up the stairs. Of course, no sign of Blaire.

"Fuck me, what the hell is taking so long?" I mutter to myself. After a few more minutes of pacing, I collapse on the sofa, sighing.

Today has been a really hectic day for the both of Blaire and I. I had to do two interviews and a photoshoot today and since Blaire is my bodyguard, she had to follow me everywhere. It isn't easy hounding off the paparazzi, especially now when they're not only targeting me, but the both of us. As usual, Blaire doesn't get testy with them. She just shoved them off the both of us and called it a day.

I thought that we could have a quiet night in tonight, but as usual, fate is a bitch. There is this event that my dad has decided that I should go tonight. It's organized by his TV show network, Interface, in celebration of his TV series, Pretty Wicked, as well as several other new shows, that have successfully wrapped up production for their first season. It's not a big thing, but you can bet there's going to be lots of press there.

Baxton and I had discussed this and I told him my reluctance to go to the party. But he thought that it would be great for me to go and bring Blaire with me.

"Wait, as my bodyguard... or as my date?" I asked.

"As your date, of course." Baxton confirmed.

"What the fuck? Are you crazy?" I cried. "You told both Blaire and I to lay low! And now you want us to do the... opposite of that?"

"Exactly," Baxton snapped his fingers. "It's been weeks since those leaked photos of the both of you got out. Everyone had been furious then. But now? The public has become more settled about the both of you. Thanks to your recent interviews about you mentioning that she's your girlfriend, I think everyone has tried to accept the idea that both of you are together. And now, you have to show them that it's not such a bad thing. Go with Blaire and talk to the press. Settle things once and for all. Show them that you don't have no reason to hide anymore, Jackson."

"But I'm thrusting Blaire straight into the spotlight again," I protested. "I'm not sure if she'll want that."

"Ask her about it. I think she'll want to do it." Baxton nodded. "Trust me on that."

I did ask Blaire about it and to my surprise, she said she'll go to the party with me. When I asked her why, she merely said, "If it would clean your reputation—our reputation—then I'd do it."

And now, here we are.

"Blaire!" I yell, getting off the sofa an trudging towards the base of the stairs. "We're going to be late! If you're not here in ten seconds, I'm going to be dragging your pretty little ass down here myself!"

As predicted, silence only greets me back.

Jesus. What is it with girls needing taking their sweet time to get ready?

Fuck it. I'm counting down.

"Ten!" I shout, glancing at my Rolex. "Nine... eight... I mean it, Blaire!"

Still, nothing. Not even a sound.

"Seven..." I say, "Six... five... four..." I sigh loudly. Come on, Blaire. Come on. "Three... two..."

Finally, Blaire decides to make her presence known. She comes out from the shadows hesitantly, her hand sliding over the stairs handle. The minute I lay eyes on her, I feel all the air rush out from my lungs.

One.

Fuck me, she's beautiful.

She wears a stunning white dress that falls just below her ankles. It has a floppy, loose neckline that draws below the collarbone, showing a fair amount of cleavage. I would probably have to adjust that later so other men won't get any ideas. Regardless, the dress hugs her body in all the right places. That's not the only thing she's wearing. Her feet are complimented with a pair of heels that are studded with jewels and her ears are adorned with beads of diamonds, a nice contrast from her dark, wavy hair.

When she notices me gawking at her, she smiles, a little bit shyly.

"Sorry I'm late," she mumbles. "I had to get everything right."

"Wow," I breathe. "You look—you're very—fuck, you're so—"

Her smile widens when she realizes I'm absolutely lost for words. "Why, thank you, Jackson. I can't take credit for all of this, though." She gestures to her dress and shoes. "Your dad tried to bribe me to come to the gala with all of this. Can't say I'm not happy about it, though. I feel like I'm prettiest I've ever been."

"And you look like it too." I murmur.

"Well, you're not so bad yourself, Jackson." She says as she makes her way down the stairs. "You clean up real good. I'm totally digging the white tux."

"I wore it for a reason. I look hella charming in white." I flash a gleaming smile and she laughs. A thought tugged at my mind and I realized I've almost forgotten something. "Oh, uh... before I forget..." I pull out a flower from the pocket of my tuxedo and hold it in front of her. "I got you a flower."

She plucks the flower from my grasp and narrows her eyes. "It's dead."

"That's the point," I say with a gleaming smile. "It represents your soul."

She glares at me, chucking the dead rose aside. "You think you're so funny, don't you?"

"Kinda. Yeah."

"Yeah, well..." She sneers, but her lip quivers, trying to fight a smile. "You are, okay?" And she storms past me outside.

I trail behind her, grinning, as I see her steps falter when she notices the three dozen or so white roses sitting on the seat of the limo in which our driver took the courtesy showing as he opened the car door. I picked the roses out this morning from the nearby florist, something which I never thought I'd never do for any girl, but I thought it would be nice to spoil my girl tonight since it is a special occasion. I wasn't sure if Blaire would like them. After all, she didn't seem like the flowers type of girl, but I knew I made the right decision by getting her those roses when her face breaks into a huge smile.

"Are these... for me?" She turns around, looking at me excitedly.

I tried to bite back a sarcastic remark—no, actually those roses are for me—but I didn't want to ruin the moment, so I merely nod. "Angel-white roses for my angel."

"Smooth. I like it." She laughs and kisses me on the cheek. "Who knew Jackson Deneris was such a romantic?"

Only for you, Blaire. I want to say. Only for you.

I give a brief nod to the driver, telling him that I got this. He nods right back disappears up front. I hold the door open for her as Blaire slides into the backseat, cradling the huge bouquet in her hands. When I'm in, I make myself very comfortable right next to her, looping my arm over her to pull her close to me.

She sighs as she leans against me, frowning slightly. I notice the turmoil on her face and nudge her. "Hey, you alright?"

She nods. "I'm just kind of nervous to be in the spotlight again. It's been a while."

"It's not too late to back out now," I tell her. "I can tell my dad we're not going after all."

"No. Don't do that." She shakes her head. "I want to set things straight with the press. I need to tell them that I'm in it for the long run with you. It's not a hook-up—not some kind of scheme to take away your money—none of that. And they need to know it." She pauses, then smiles. "No more hiding. No more laying low. We gotta settle this once and for all."

My lips curl into a smile. "If you're sure..."

"Yeah. I am."

I kiss her hair and pout. "They're going to get ugly, you know. They might even ask you about your parents and their deaths..."

She waves me off. "Don't worry. I'll handle it." Her eyes meet mine. "You have to stop worrying about me, Jackson. I'm not fragile."

"I know you're not," I say, angling my body so I'm not facing her. I tilt her chin with my index finger and lock her eyes with mine. "You're one of the strongest, bravest people I've ever met. That's why I..." I let my voice trail off out of fear. I take a deep breath to correct my words. "That's why I like you. A lot."

She eyes me suspiciously, like she knew those were not the words I'd meant to say to her.

"Jackson..." she starts off and for a second I think this is it. She's going to say it. She's going to say she loves me. Her eyes look so honest and for once, I am able to see through them. She loves me. Or she's on the verge of loving me. Whichever way, I'll take it. I'll take whatever she can give me.

But before she can say anything else, the soft muffled voices of people outside the limo distracts the both of us. I peer through the window and I see the blue carpet we're about to walk on, lined with tens and hundreds of photographers and reporters. Some of them have already spotted our limo and are barreling straight towards us.

I turn to Blaire, searching for the rest of her unspoken words, but she takes a deep breath and a nervous smile pops on her face. "Well, I guess this is it."

I touch her cheek and plant a small kiss on her lips. "Come on. Let's go."

She slides her fingers into mine and squeezes my hand. "Jackson. Please don't let me fall."

"Never, darling." I say, "I would never let you fall."

But in truth, I know otherwise.

Oh, darling. Can't you see that you already have?

ஜஜஜஜஜஜ

The gala was a huge success.

We spent a good amount of time on the carpet, taking a ton of photos and talking to the reporters. At first, Blaire was a bit hesitant to even hold hands with me but I convinced her that it would be alright. I lead her through the mass of paparazzi, smiling and waving as we went. I have confirmed in some of the interviews that I was dating Blaire, but now, walking down the carpet, it confirmed that statement.

Everyone was taking pictures of the both of us—they were calling out to us, telling us that we looked like a beautiful couple, chanting for us to kiss. I did that last part. Just for the heck of it, I swept Blaire into my arms and pressed a kiss on her lips. Nobody seemed to be disgusted by it. In fact, the media seemed more than happy to see us together. I talked to a bunch of representatives from blogs and celebrity news network and I told them that it was official: I was dating my own bodyguard.

There were a shit ton of other questions that were thrown at me that I had no choice but to answer. If you're dating Blaire, does that mean she's still going to work for you? Do you think what you have with her is going to last? What do you think the future holds for the both of you?

      I replied as calmly as I could. Yes, she's still going to be escorting me to events, photoshoots and interviews, but now, not only as my bodyguard, but as my girlfriend too. Yes, I think we're going to last. And hopefully, the future is going to be bright for the both of us.

As for Blaire, I think she did a pretty good job at tackling her own questions. This was the first time she had been confronted about her parents' deaths and about her being on the streets and she didn't bother to hide the truth from anyone. She answered the best she could, occasionally stumbling over her words at the mention of her brother, but in the end, all was good. I'm really proud of her.

After all that was over, we were ushered into the building. No expense was spared. Huge hung from high ceilings with droplets of crystals hanging from the ends. Silks draped from the middle to all corners of the room, adding color to the place. The lights were not too bright but not too dim either. Music was blaring from the speakers, making it a little bit chaotic. Celebrities were either found dancing, sipping on cocktails or from champagne glasses, or mingling around each other, laughing and chattering away.

Baxton found us the minute we stepped foot in there and the next hour Blaire and I found ourselves being introduced to a bunch of directors, producers and fellow actors and actresses. Blaire kind of freaked out a little when she saw Amy Poehler from across the room. She gave out a squeal and scurried off to meet her idol. I was left on my own with a bunch of strangers.

I'll get you back for that one, darling. I thought to myself silently. Preferably in bed tonight.

When I was finally done greeting the other guests, I realized I'm finally a free man. I was really tempted to get some dessert for myself since I was starving, preferably some gelato because I love that shit, but to my disappointment, they ran out. So instead, I dunked down two glasses of champagne and now  I'm heading over to Blaire, who looks like she was having a conversation of a lifetime with Amy.

"Mind if I cut in, Amy?" I kiss Amy's cheek and she laughs.

"No problem at all. Your girlfriend is hilarious. I might just write a book about her." She tells me.

"I don't think that's a problem. We'll just charge you extra if it becomes a bestseller, yeah?"

That makes her laugh even more. "Definitely."

I smile back, and then slide my arm protectively around Blaire to tug her to the dance floor. "Now, if you'd excuse me, Amy, I'd very much like to have a dance with my girlfriend."

When we're finally out of earshot from Amy, Blaire smacks me on my shoulder. "Ow," I say. "What was that for?"

"You were being rude." She hisses. "That was Amy Poehler I was talking to! Amy fucking Poehler!"

"I know. We sometimes text each other. She likes using the heart-eyes emoji a lot."

Blaire gapes at me. "You text Amy Poehler and you didn't even bother to tell me?"

"I didn't think it was important."

She smacks me again. "You are the worst boyfriend ever!"

"I'm sorry, geez." I rub the sore spot and wince. "If it makes you feel any better, I'll give you her number. The both of you can chat it up tomorrow. Just please... I'd like to have you all to myself tonight."

"You have me all to myself every night."

"True," I nod. "But that's not the point."

"You could have just asked me to dance. Instead of stealing me away."

"I know, baby." I kiss her forehead. "I'm sorry. But I'm asking now. Will you dance with me?"

She rolls her eyes, but she can't fight the smile off her face. "Fine. Lead the way."

Blaire lets me drag her away find an empty spot on the dance floor. I pull her close to me, placing my hands over her hips. She looks at me for a while, then gives in, sliding her arms around my neck. The both of us begin sway to some Ed Sheeran's Give Me Love. I had to bribe the DJ to get that song and right now, having Blaire in my arms, it's so worth that twenty bucks.

She rests her head against my shoulder and sighs. "Did you see what she was wearing? Amy? She looked beautiful tonight."

"She's nothing compared to you," I murmur. "You're absolutely stunning, Blaire. I couldn't have asked for a better date."

She laughs. "I think if you did, I would have to kill you."

"You know I only got eyes for you, Blaire." I chuckle. "So what do you make of tonight?"

"It was okay," she murmurs. "But I'd rather be at home cuddling on the couch with you while watching The Godfather."

"You both know we'll end up doing more than just cuddling on that couch." I wink at her and she blushes.

"Ugrh. I know. Everything always leads to sex whenever we're together," she moans. "You always have your way with me. I think I need to toughen up and learn how to say no."

"But that's not fun at all," I brush my nose against her cheek and whisper, "You and I both know you like sex just as much as I do. The difference between us is that I'm brutally honest about it."

"That's true." She nods, tightening her arms around me. "But your honesty is what makes me... like you."

Disappointment sets in, knowing that she didn't say the L-word first, but I guess she wasn't ready yet. And I'm not going to push her for it. She'll say she loves me. She will. And I'll let her do it on her own terms.

"Alright. I'll take that," I whisper, leaning down to kiss her.

When the kiss breaks, Blaire smiles and leans her cheek against my shoulder, sighing. "God, I wish Eden were here. He would have wanted to come and nab a picture with Tom Hiddleston. He loves that guy to death."

"Why didn't you invite him them?"

A frown forms on her lips. Her eyes appear sad. "I did. His adoptive mom refused to let him come. Said it wasn't part of the whole visitation thing."

My eyes narrow. "Now thats just bullshit."

"I know," she sighs again, her hand clinging unto my shoulder for support. "There's nothing I can do about it."

"Screw her," I press a kiss on her hair and clutch her tighter in my arms. "She makes you sad and I don't want you to be sad. Not tonight. She doesn't get to have it, alright? I won't allow it."

"But-"

I press a kiss on her lips to shut her up. "No buts. We'll deal with her when the time comes. Let's just forget about her and enjoy the dance." I tilt her head and my thumb brushes lightly against her cheek. "Smile for me, will you? You're beautiful when you smile."

"How do you do that?" She laughs and a small grin breaks her face. "Make me smile? Make me happy? Not a lot of people can do that. So how do you do that?"

"One of my many special talents." I wink at her. "Among other things."

She laughs again. "Oh, don't I know it."

I don't know how long we danced, but all I know is that I loved every minute of it—having her arms around me and vice-versa, her eyes fixed on mine, our lips almost touching but not quite... the moment was truly perfect. An infinite amount of songs later, I finally pull away from her and tug her along with me.

"Jackson, where are we going?" She says, laughing, as I lead her out of the room.

I don't bother bidding my goodbyes—I've been here long enough to support my dad. I highly doubt he'll miss me though. The last time I checked, he was making out with the barista so I think he's in good hands for the night.

"Out of here," I rasp. "We're going for dessert—I know a place near here that we can get gelato—and then we're going home and having sex. Last part is optional. Except not really."

"Oh my god, you're crazy," she murmurs as I walk the both of us to the back exit. I can't exit up front—I'm not in the mood to handle the paparazzi again. I want to make our escape as quiet as possible. "Jackson!" She cries when we push past the doors and almost stumble down the flight of stairs. I manage to steady her with my arms.

"Come down, I got you." I say, holding her tight. "You alright?"

"Yeah. I think." She says. "Let's go."

I grin, then grabbing her hand, the both of us speed off. We soar down the streets, tearing through every block and alley, the world at our feet. Blaire lets out an airy laugh as she tries to catch up with me, her heels making such a racket against the pavement.

"Shhhhh!" I tell her, squeezing her hand. "Do you want us to get caught?"

"I'm sorry! Blame the Jimmy Choos your dad bought me," she half says, half croaks out. She's trying to catch her breath so I let our pacing decrease just a little.

I peer behind, the flashing of paparazzi cameras and plethora of people on the carpet seem to grow smaller every step we take. We must have ran quite a distance. There aren't quite a lot of cars in the area—only a couple speckled along the streets. It's quiet. Too quiet. No people, no sign of life—even the shadows are too afraid to come out in the dark.

Both Blaire and I eventually come into a halt, our bodies shivering in the night's cold. A chill slithers down my spine when I come to the realization that we're lost.

"Jackson..." Blaire says as she cling unto my arm. "Are you sure we're in the right place?"

"Uh, no?" The indecision in my voice is enough to put fear in her eyes.

"Jackson, let's go." She tugs on my arm, her lip quivering. "It's not safe here. Let's go before—"

"Where do you think the you're going?" A voice echoes along the alley and Blaire flinches.

Out of the shadows materialize a group of four men, each burlier and bulkier than the last. The ringleader's the last to come out, and I assume the voice belonged to him. He's bigger than me, but he's definitely not all muscles. Rings decorate every finger and he makes a habit of flashing them at us, like those were prizes he claimed from his opponents and we were his next target.

He smiles at us, his yellow teeth gleaming under the constant blinking of the streetlight above us. "You guys must have come from the party over there," he points to behind us. "Tsk. Tsk. It's s shame that you strayed so far."

"We can make a run for it," Blaire hisses into my ear. "We can run and be out of here."

I ignore her, knowing that that plan would fail. We can't outrun them. We're already trapped by the men, like lambs ready for slaughter.

"Yeah, well. Thanks for pointing that out, big guy." I say with a forced smile. "Now, if you don't mind, we best be going now-"

The ringleader scowls, then his strong hand clamps over my wrist. I immediately jerk away from the man, sneering back.

"We got a life one, buddies," he starts cackling and the other three men join in, laughing as well. "You guys are not going anywhere until we get what we want." He points to my shoes and a nasty grin appears on his face. "Nice shoes."

"Thanks. I got it from the thrift store. Ten bucks. Would have been twelve if it weren't for the discount."

"Bullshit. Don't lie to me. I smell leather. Real leather." He spats. "Give me the shoes. And your wallet. Now."

"Fuck off. We're not giving you a single cent!" Blaire spits out and I instantly wish I had a mute button so that she can shut her mouth. But it's too late. All of the men's attention are now on her.

"You're pretty." The ringleader comments. "Really pretty." His eyes trail down her body, and he nods, somewhat in approval, a satisfied grin forming on his face. Blaire gulps, fear gripping her tight, but she tries not to show it. "We'll have a lot of fun with you." The other men nod to one another, each sharing their perverted smiles.

My rage starts to shimmer, growing in the deepest pit of my body. I feel the anger rush through my veins, clouding my vision. I clench my fists hard, and a muscle pops along my jaw.

I'll kill them. I'll kill them all.

"Don't you fucking dare," the words come out in a low growl. "Leave her the fuck alone."

"Or what?" The ringleader steps towards me, his chest puffed out, challenging me to do something about it.

I'll kill you. I'll kill you all.

I'm ready. I'm so fucking ready to beat the living shit out of these guys. The rational part of me tells me to calm down, to just give them what they want, but I refuse to listen to it. I know I've come a long way from the Jax Deneris that I was a few months ago, but fuck me, I can't even think straight. These guys have very bad intentions towards Blaire and I am not going to stand here like a fucking coward and watch them ravish her with their eyes.

Blaire's eyes connect with mine, and her mouth quivers. She seems frightened, but there is determination in her eyes that tell me that she's not going to leave without a fight.

The ringleader looks back and forth between us and laughs. "Don't even think about trying to fight us. You're outnumbered. It will be suicidal."

I'm almost blinded with rage, the familiar emotion singing in my veins, making me come alive. I let another person take over my body. Jackson slowly retreats into the shadows—unneeded and unwanted—and another face stares back at the ringleader, its expression cold and emotionless.

Jax Deneris is back and he has another person to put in a grave.

A twisted sneer forms on his... my lips. I hold the ringleader's gaze and growl. "I guess we'll take our chances."

And the second my fist comes in contact with face, all hell breaks loose.

ஜஜஜஜஜஜ

A/N: END OF BOOK THREE!

Thank you guys so much for sticking by with me through this incredible journey with Blaire and Jackson. Perfect Redemption had been such a blast to write and I'm so happy to have finished it-

NAHHH JOKES GUYS. HAPPY APRIL FOOLS DAY!

Perfect Redemption is FARRRR from over. Trust me on that.

Anyways! How are you guys? I'm on Easter break right now and I'm flown back from UK and now I'm back in Malaysia! It feels so good to be back.

So. Much. Food.

I like.

Next update: following Friday!

What do you think is going to happen? Why do you think I've written in the thugs? What do you think I'm trying to accomplish?

Also, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU GUYS ARE INTERESTED IN A PERFECT SERIES ONE-SHOT CONTEST!!! Prizes include me reading a chapter of YOUR book OR me answering YOUR questions about writing and Wattpad! YAY OR NAY?

See you guys soon!

Meanwhile, here's a picture of Kayden eating something [cuz it's been a long time since we've heard from him]

So. Fucking. Hot.

Love, Claudia.