Lahat na lang sila bakla.

Pinagmasdan ko ang aking repleksyon sa basong hawak. I emptied the glass in one swift motion, my throat burning slightly as I placed it back down on the table. Muli ko rin naman iyong dinampot upang silipin na naman ang repleksyon ko. My green eyes stared back at me, glowing even in the dim light. My platinum blonde hair fell in perfect waves around my face, framing the lips and nose na minana ko sa mommy ko—full, soft lips and a straight, elegant nose. Every detail of me was so fucking beautiful. Hindi ako gandang ganda lang sa sarili ko, iyon ang totoo. Alam ko because I'd been scouted, stopped in the street more times than I could count. Modeling offers flooded in, but I turned them down every time. Hindi ko gustong mag modelo. I didn't want to follow in my sister's footsteps. Magiging miserable ako kung gagawin ko iyon dahil lang iyon ang gusto ni Mommy.

But here I was, living through another version of misery I didn't expect. Hindi naging sapat ang kagandahang taglay ko, hindi sapat na marami ang nagkakagusto sa akin, hindi sapat na mayaman ako. Hindi ako sapat dahil para aba akong may sumpa. Why did it seem like every man I attracted was... gay?

Lahat na lang talaga ay bakla! Wala naman akong problema sa mga bakla. I could be friends with them naman... Pero bakit naman ganoon? Lahat na lang ng magugustuhan ko ay bakla! Kaunti na lang ay iisipin ko na talagang sumpa na ito.

I looked at myself in the glass again, this time searching for the cracks. There had to be something wrong with me, right? Naalala ko na naman ang mga ex-boyfriend ko noong college ako. Dalawa sila, parehong bakla. Both used me as their perfect cover, their ideal mask to hide behind. It stung at the time, but it wasn't like I had fallen for either of them. Bata pa ako noon, eh. I was young, naive, and they were charming, sweet. But still, it was humiliating when I found out the truth. Nagmukha kasi akong tanga. Iyong isa nahuli kong may kahalikan na ibang lalaki. The other broke down and confessed, tears streaming down his face, begging for my forgiveness. I could forgive them. We were just kids then. Inisip ko na lang na hindi rin naman nila siguro sinasadyang saktan at gamitin lang ako. Baka hindi rin nila hustong naisip ang epekto ng mga ginawa nila noong mga panahon na iyon.

But this? This was different. I wasn't a kid anymore. And I'd thought he wasn't either. Lahat ng galit na kinikimkim ko ay muli na namang umahon sa aking dibdib. My fiancé. The one I thought was different. I actually loved him. I gave him everything, believed in him, believed in us. And now? Now, I find out he's gay too.

I should've seen it. There were signs. Of course, there were signs. Pero mahal ko, eh. O mas tamang sabihin na inisip kong mahal ko dahil gusto kong siya na kaya pinili kong pumikit nang husto na akong binubulag ng mga senyales na iyon. Archie barely kissed me unless he absolutely had to. No spark. No passion. He'd touch me, but it was mechanical, obligatory. And sex? Forget it. He never even tried, not once, like the very idea repulsed him. I should've known, but I let myself believe that maybe he was just shy. Or maybe he was just traditional, waiting for marriage. How stupid.

Nasasaktan ako pero alam ko naman na wala rin akong ibang dapat sisihin sa pinagdadaanan ko kundi ang sarili ko. At syempre, ang bakla kong fiancé. Deep down, I knew. Even when he proposed, I knew. I was so desperate for it to be him. I wanted him to be the one so badly that I ignored every red flag. I said yes. I convinced myself that everything would change once we were married. That he'd open up, that things would get better. Putcha. Bakit kasi bakla siya?

I raised my hand, signaling the bartender. "Another bottle of Dom Pérignon,"

Agad naman itong tumalima upang kunin ang order ko.

I leaned back, staring blankly at the flickering light before me. How the hell was I going to tell my parents that the wedding was off? They'd been over the moon about Archie. Lalo na si Mommy. He was perfect on paper—successful, polished, from an English royal family. The kind of man every girl was supposed to dream of marrying. Except, of course, for the fact that he was gay. A detail they didn't know yet.

Archie didn't even want to cancel the wedding. I almost laughed at the thought. Of course, he didn't. He wanted to go through with it. He'd use me as his fucking cover. Gusto ko lalong malungkot dahil ganoon siya kadamot. Gusto niya na may karamay siya sa kamiserablehan niya. He wanted to build an entire life with me, playing house in front of his family and friends. I could hear his words echoing in my mind from when we last spoke.

"It's a formality," sabi niya nang pag-usapan namin ang tungkol sa nalalapit sana naming kasal. "We don't have to love each other in that way. You know what this means for both of us. It'll save face. You'll have the life you've always wanted."

Sa totoo lang ay gustong-gusto ko na siyang sampalin lalo na't sinasabi niya ang mga bagay na ito na para bang utang na loob ko pa ang mapakasalan niya. The life I always wanted? What a joke. Anong alam niya sa gusto kong buhay? I didn't sign up to be anyone's trophy wife, and certainly not someone's shield against the truth. He was willing to throw me under the bus for the sake of his reputation, for the sake of his royal family. Hindi lang siya bakla. Gago pa siya. Sobrang gago!

"It wouldn't be fair to you, Archie," kalmado ko pa ring sabi kahit gustong-gusto ko na talaga siyang saktan ng pisikal. "You'd be lying to yourself. To me. To everyone."

Kung hindi ko siya nabuko ngayon... Kung hindi ko nakita ang mga polaroid na pinakatatago-tago niya. Mga sulat niyang hindi naiparating sa ex-boyfriend niya na kaklase niya noon sa boarding school. Hindi ko pa talaga malalaman na bakla siya. Ni wala rin siyang balak sabihin sa akin. Talagang tuloy ang plano niyang papaniwalain akong mahal niya ako. Gago! Sobrang gago mo, Archie! Kung malalaman lang 'to ng Daddy at ng Kuya ko, butas bungo ng gagong 'to, eh.

I couldn't do it. I wasn't going to sacrifice my own happiness, my own life, just to keep up appearances. Masasaktan si Mommy, oo. Pero lilipas rin iyon. Lahat ng kahihiyan na matatamasa ko, mawawala rin ang lahat ng ito. Ayaw kong magpanggap lalo na sa pang habang-buhay na desisyon. I had spent enough time pretending everything was fine. I couldn't live in that kind of lie forever. No matter how much I had tried to convince myself that things would get better, that somehow, after the wedding, something would change—there was no fixing this. Archie was gay. Hindi naman iyon sakit na gagaling at kailangan gamutin. It was his reality that we all needed to accept.

Sandali akong natigil sa aking pag-iisip na ng bumalik ang bartender dala ang order ko. I didn't wait for him to pour it into a glass. Instead, I grabbed the bottle, brought it to my lips, and downed it. The bubbly liquid burned as it slid down my throat, but it was a distraction I needed. A numbing agent for the ache that had settled deep in my chest. Nakita ko ang pagkamangha nito sa aking ginawa pero wala naman nang iba pang sinabi. Muling binalikan ang iba pang customer na tumatawag sa atensyon nito.

I set the bottle down, my hand trembling slightly as the tears started to prick at the corners of my eyes. Ang daya, eh! Hindi naman dapat masakit kasi dapat inasahan ko na. Pero nakakapanghina pa rin na sobrang mukha akong tanga. I hated myself for crying, for feeling this weak. But I couldn't stop it. The frustration, the betrayal, the self-pity—it all came crashing down at once. I buried my face in my hands, the sobs shaking my body.

Bakit ko ba kasi hinayaan ang sarili ko na masaktan ng ganito?

I had known. I had known from the beginning. The little signs, the distance, the way he avoided real intimacy with me. I had seen it all, but I had been so desperate for him to be the one that I ignored it. Sabi ko pa... Talagang mahal niya ko.

My phone buzzed on the table. It was Archie. Another text, probably asking if I'd changed my mind. I stared at it for a moment before turning it face down, the tears blurring my vision once again. Bahala ka sa buhay mo, tangina ka!

Mukha akong tanga. Sobrang mukha akong tanga at sa tuwing maiisip ko iyon ay lalo lamang akong napapaiyak. I pressed the heel of my hand to my eyes, trying to keep it together. It was stupid. Crying over someone who didn't even want me the way I wanted him. Crying over a lie. But it still hurt.

As I was drowning in my misery, someone slid onto the stool next to mine. Naramadaman ko iyon pero wala akong pakialam. Basta umiiyak lang ako.

"Aw, now why would a beautiful woman like you be crying in a place like this?" Pamilyar ang malumanay na tinig na iyon pero hindi ko pa rin pinansin.

I didn't even look up at first. I wasn't in the mood for another asshole trying to hit on me, like somehow his charm would fix my problems. I swiped at my tears and turned my head, fully intending to tell him off—until I saw who it was.

Icen De Salvo.

He was breathtaking, of course. His dark blonde hair fell in soft waves, tousled like he'd just stepped out of some high-end magazine shoot. He wore a crisp white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms, and black trousers that hugged his frame just right. But it wasn't the clothes that made him stand out. It was his presence—commanding, confident, like he owned every room he walked into. His piercing blue eyes locked on mine, their intensity almost unnerving, framed by long, dark lashes that made them pop even more.

Guwapo si Icen. Sa lahat nga marahil ng De Salvo na kilala ko ay siya ang pinaka. But I couldn't be fooled. Not by him. Bakla rin siya. Alam kong bakla rin siya. Parepareho silang lahat!

I narrowed my eyes. I knew his secret. He was Archie's ex. Iyong sinusulatan niya sa boarding school. Icen De Salvo was the one whose name was on every damn letter Archie had hidden so carefully. All of them were addressed to him. Not that it mattered. I never found any letters from Icen back to Archie, but that didn't mean shit. They were both gay. That was all I needed to know.

Tinaas niya ang kaniyang kamay upang tawagin ang atensyon ng bartender nang hindi pa rin ako magsalita. He ordered his drink. "Whiskey, neat,"

Napaikot ang aking mga mata. Magpagpanggap! Of course. A manly drink. So fucking pretentious. I could see right through it, and right through him. Ano ba kasing ginagawa niya dito? Ano ba 'to? Kailangan pa ba talaga akong sampalin ng katotohanan? Oo na. Alam ko na at unti-unti ko nang tinatanggap ang kabaklaan ni Archie. Kailangan talagang ipamukha pa sa akin, eh.

"Not exactly your scene, is it?" I said dryly, my voice low as I stared into the glass in front of me. "I didn't think the heir of the De Salvos drank in places like this."

He chuckled softly. "I'm full of surprises, Chanel."

The way he said my name made my skin crawl like he was trying to get under my skin. Maybe he thought he could charm me like he did everyone else. But I wasn't falling for it. Tatlong beses na kong naloko. Hindi na ako magpapabiktima ulit, noh? Lalo na't balita ko'y siya na lang sa kanilang magpipinsan ang hindi pa nag-aasawa. Kasi nga bakla. Hindi marahim magawang aminin sa mga magulang at kamag-anak. Letse! Ano ba? Wala naman akong natatandaan na nag sign up ako for ads na may services ako as cover girl, ah? Pero bakit parang sobrang lapitin ko naman ata? Ni hindi ko pa nga hustong natatapos ang isa ay ito at meron na namang mukhang gustong mag-avail ng serbisyo na hindi ako aware na pino-provide ko pala.

Lord, lalaki naman po ang ipadala niyo sa akin.

I looked him up and down, silently judging him, my mind swirling with thoughts of all the letters Archie had written him—letters full of longing, of love. What a joke. I knew exactly what kind of man he was. Parepareho silang lahat!

"You here to reminisce with your old lover?" I spat out before I could stop myself. The venom in my voice surprised even me, but I didn't care. He deserved it.

Kumunot ang kaniyang noo sa sinabi ko na parang nagtaka pa. Hm. Maybe he didn't know I already knew his secret. Wala kang maloloko dito, Icen.

"I'm here for a drink. The company is just a bonus." His lips curled into a smirk as if my hostility amused him.

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Right. Of course. You're just here for a drink."

I looked away, taking a deep breath, trying to steady the storm brewing inside me. Who the fuck cares, anyway? Let them both rot in their lies.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. "What's wrong, Chanel? Why are you so angry?"

I turned to face him, and he was closer than I expected, his breath still warm against my skin. I could see every detail of his face—the sharpness of his jawline, the dark lashes framing those piercing blue eyes that never seemed to leave mine. His whiskey arrived, but his focus stayed locked on me. With practiced ease, he reached for the glass without breaking eye contact, taking a slow, deliberate sip.

Damn, I thought, biting the inside of my cheek. This gay was sexy as hell, and he knew it. Kunsabagay, kahit naman bakla siya ay De Salvo pa rin siya.

His eyes flicked downward, catching the sparkle of my engagement ring. I tensed. He knew, of course. The whole world knew about me and Archie. It was splashed across every society page, every gossip column. The perfect royal wedding. The perfect couple. What a fucking lie.

Tumaas ang kaniyang mga kilay nang muling mag-angat ng tingin sa akin.

"What did Archie do?" His voice was smooth, calm, but there was something underneath it. A curiosity, maybe. Or was it amusement? "You look... messed up."

I clenched my jaw, my thoughts immediately swirling with memories of those letters. The ones Archie had poured his heart into, confessing how much he loved Icen. Loved. That word made my stomach turn. How much of it was still true? Did Archie still feel the same way about him?

At siya? Gusto niya rin ba si Archie? Mahal niya rin? Hanggang ngayon pa ba?

The idea made my skin crawl. Binalingan ko si Icen na nanatili lamang na kalmadong pinapanuod ako. Did he even know about those letters? Did he even care? I hadn't seen a single one from him to Archie. Maybe Archie had been pathetically one-sided this whole time, pouring out his soul for a man who didn't give a damn. Pero ano nga ba namang alam ko sa relasyon nilang dalawa?

Without saying a word, I pulled the ring from my finger. The diamond glittered under the bar lights, heavy with the weight of every lie it symbolized. I shot it into his whiskey like it was nothing more than a piece of trash. Parang nakahinga ako ng maluwag nang maialis ko ang kasinungalingan na iyon sa akin.

Icen didn't flinch. Didn't even blink. Just smirked again, that same infuriating smirk that told me he was enjoying this far too much. Kung bakit ay hindi ko alam.

"The engagement's off," I said flatly, my voice void of any emotion. Saying it out loud felt like an odd release, but there was still a hollow ache in my chest.

He nodded like he wasn't surprised. "Figured as much."

I expected him to say something else, maybe offer some sarcastic remark, but he didn't. Instead, he calmly set his whiskey down—now with my engagement ring sitting at the bottom—and turned his attention to my bottle of champagne.

Without asking, he lifted it and brought it to his lips, taking a long, slow drink. His eyes never left mine, and the way he did it—so casual, so confident—sent a strange flutter through my chest. Damn, the appeal of this guy.

Bakla 'yan, Chanel. Bakla! Desperada kong paalala sa aking sarili.

"Seriously?" I scoffed, crossing my arms. "You're just gonna drink my champagne now?"

He placed the bottle back on the table with a soft clink, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb. "What can I say? It tastes better shared."

Icen's eyes now drifting lower—too low. He was checking out my cleavage, and for a split second, I wondered, Do gays even do that? Archie sure as hell didn't. He never looked at me like that. Ever. Bigla ay parang gusto ko tuloy takpan iyon, kung hindi nga lang mukhang tanga.

"What are you even doing here?" I asked, trying to steer the conversation back into safer territory. "In a pub like this?"

He glanced up, those piercing blue eyes locking with mine again, and for a second, I forgot I was supposed to be pissed. Masyadong maamo ang mukha ni Icen, mukhang sobrang bait niya. Well, siguro nga mabait siya. Pero bakla siya kaya hindi ako dapat magpadala sa ganyan. Sissy puwede pa.

"I'm staying at the hotel across the street," he said casually, leaning back in his stool like he had all the time in the world. "Some ocular visits for a site we're eyeing for the new branch of our hotel chain."

Before I could even react, Icen suddenly grabbed the edge of my stool and pulled it closer to his with a swift movement. My heart skipped a beat as I lost my balance, instinctively grabbing his arm for support.

"Shit," I gasped, steadying myself. "I didn't even know these stools could move."

He chuckled, the sound deep and almost teasing. "They can't." The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. "But I couldn't hear you quite clearly from that distance."

I narrowed my eyes at him. Yeah, right. That was just an excuse, and we both knew it. His eyes gleamed with amusement as if he enjoyed seeing me a little rattled. He licked his bottom lip again, and before I could say a word, he grabbed my bottle of champagne and took another slow sip, this time savoring it longer.

He handed it back to me, his fingers brushing mine. "Your turn. Drink."

It wasn't a suggestion; it was more of an order. And despite myself, I found my hand moving to the bottle. I lifted it to my lips, taking a sip just as slowly as he did. I couldn't help but wonder how we ended up in this weird, charged situation. My emotions were all over the place—anger, confusion, and something else I didn't want to name. But damn, the way he looked at me, it was like he was daring me to push back, to match him.

"Good girl," he muttered with a small smile when I set the bottle down.

I blinked, the words throwing me off, but before I could react, he leaned in closer, his voice dropping.

"So, tell me, Chanel... how are you really doing?"

I hesitated, my fingers tracing the edge of the champagne bottle. "You mean aside from the fact that my engagement just blew up in my face?"

His eyes softened for a moment as if he genuinely cared. "Yeah. Aside from that."

I sighed, glancing around the dim pub before meeting his gaze again. "I don't know. It's a mess. I feel like I should've seen it coming, you know? Like I ignored everything because I wanted it to be real. And now... now I'm just stuck here, pissed off and humiliated."

Gusto ko sanang idugtong kung gaano ako kagalit ngayon sa katotohanang bakla si Archie. Kaso naalala kong bakla rin pala siya. Baka ma-hurt kapag sinabi ko pa iyon kaya nanahimik na lang ako.

"Yeah, life's a bitch sometimes. But here's the thing—none of that shit defines you. You're here, drinking champagne straight from the bottle, looking perfect despite everything."

I couldn't help but scoff. "You're laying it on thick, aren't you?"

I couldn't help it—I laughed. The whole situation was ridiculous. Here I was, getting hit on by a gay guy in a dimly lit pub while drinking straight from a champagne bottle. But okay, I'll give it to him—he was hot, and he was doing it in a way that wasn't annoying or smug like the others. It was... gentle. Siguro ganoon dahil bakla siya. No ulterior motives. At least, none that I could see.

Icen smirked, watching me as I laughed. He didn't seem the least bit fazed by my reaction. In fact, it seemed like that's what he was going for—disarming me, turning the mood lighter, even flirtatious. He leaned back, eyes flicking back to the whiskey glass where my engagement ring sat at the bottom, submerged in amber liquid. With a slow, deliberate motion, he dipped his finger into the glass and gently fished the ring out. He let the liquid drip off his finger before holding the ring up to the light, examining it.

"Nice diamond," he said, twisting the ring slightly as if he were appraising it. "Three carats, flawless. You sure you want to leave this in a glass of whiskey?"

I raised an eyebrow, watching the way his fingers moved, the ring barely fitting on his index finger. My gaze lingered on his hand longer than I intended. Damn. It might've been the alcohol, but suddenly, even that seemed... hot. And the ring? Well, it gave me all sorts of vivid ideas about what those fingers could do. I shook the thought from my head, trying to refocus.

"Do you even know how much this could sell for?" he asked, his voice low, playful. "I'd say... half a million, easy."

I rolled my eyes, leaning back on my stool. "I'm rich. I don't need the money."

Natawa siya sa sinabi ko, mas tinitigan lamang ako bago muling nagsalita.

"True, but think of what you could do with that money. A lot of lap dances, for one." He tilted his head toward the far side of the room where a woman was giving some guy a public lap dance. Nobody seemed to care, everyone too busy with their own business to notice.

I snorted, following his gaze. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," he replied with a teasing smile.

I glanced back at him, still smiling. Then, before I even knew what I was doing, I reached for the ring on his finger and slipped it off. It felt heavy in my hand as I held it up between us, meeting his amused gaze.

"Okay," I said, my voice light with challenge. "How much of a lap dance do you think this could get me?"

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the game I was playing. "From me?" He leaned in, his smirk turning wicked. "Depends. You think you can handle it?"

My heart skipped a beat at his sudden closeness, and I laughed, trying to brush off the strange tension building between us. "Please, Icen. I think I can handle anything you throw my way."

"Bold move, Chanel. But I like it."

I slid the ring back onto his finger, feeling the heat of his skin as I did. "Let's see what you've got then."

I couldn't take my eyes off him. I'd had gays before—hell, my entire dating history seemed to be full of them—but none of them ever made me feel this way. Nervous. Excited. And completely on edge. I tried to shake it off, telling myself it was just the alcohol messing with my head, but every time I met his gaze, my pulse quickened.

Icen leaned back for a moment, his eyes still locked on mine as he downed the last of his whiskey, setting the glass down with a deliberate motion.

Then he moved.

With one swift, fluid motion, he parted my legs with his hand, placing his palm on the edge of my seat, barely touching me but close enough to make my breath hitch. I shivered slightly at the warmth of his hand so close to my skin, my pulse racing as I watched him lean in closer, his breath hot against my neck.

He inhaled softly, his nose grazing the air just above my skin.

"Chanel No. 5," he whispered, the name of my perfume slipping from his lips like a secret. "Classic. Timeless."

I exhaled sharply, both impressed and irritated by his attention to detail. Damn, he really was gay, huh? No straight man would know that. I wasn't sure if I should be amused or turned on by it. Either way, he was making it harder and harder to keep my composure.

"Taking advantage of a broken girl, Icen?" Tukso ko, para lang maalala niyang narito ako dahil durog ang puso ko. Durog nga ba? Hindi ko na rin alam. Basta ang alam ko lang ay naloko ako! "Is that really your style?"

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a wicked smile. "Broken, huh? Are you sure about that?"

Before I could respond, I gasped softly as I felt his hand advance. Slowly, carefully, his fingers brushed the inside of my thighs, slipping just under the hem of my dress. The touch was barely there, light as a whisper, but it sent a jolt through me that I wasn't expecting. My breath caught in my throat, and I had to grip the edge of the bar to steady myself.

"Icen..." I started, but my voice faltered. The way his hand moved, how his fingers barely grazed my skin, it was teasing—deliberate. He was playing a dangerous game, and the worst part was, I wasn't sure if I wanted him to stop.

"You don't seem broken to me, Chanel," he murmured, his voice smooth and full of heat. "You seem very much alive."

I closed my eyes for a second, trying to gather my thoughts, trying to remember why I was supposed to be in control of this situation. But when his fingers slid just a little higher, just a fraction more pressure, the heat radiating from his hand was impossible to ignore.

I could barely think straight. Could a gay guy really be this hot toward a woman? Everything about this felt so wrong, yet it sent a thrill through me that I couldn't ignore. His hand, warm and teasing, kept sliding higher, just a fraction more, and I couldn't stop myself from reacting. My breath hitched, and my heart pounded in my chest.

But I wasn't going to back down. If he was playing this game, I was going to play it too.

"I bought a lap dance from you with that diamond."

His lips curved into that maddening, confident smirk. "Oh, you're getting more than just a lap dance, don't worry."

I inhaled sharply when his hand inched higher, his middle finger grazing the thin lace of my panties. He was watching me intently, his eyes dark and full of heat, like he was waiting for my reaction. Damn it, how was he making me feel this way? His eyes flicked down to where his fingers brushed against me, then back up, locking onto mine as he licked his bottom lip.

He tugged the lacy edge of my panties slightly, his touch sending a jolt of pleasure through me. "What color are these?"

I was so aroused by how hot he was, and it didn't matter anymore that he was supposed to be gay. Right now, none of it mattered.

I bit my lip, feeling bold as I met his gaze. "If you guess right. I might show it to you."

He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "If I guess right. I'm keeping it."

His gaze dropped slowly, deliberately, to my cleavage, taking in every detail as his finger brushed my folds through the lace—wet and needy, a sensation that made me shiver.

"Red," he whispered against my skin, his lips almost brushing my ear, his finger pressing just enough to make me tremble. "Scarlet red, isn't it?"

My heart raced, and a flood of heat washed over me. Damn. He was right. Every part of me screamed for more, and I couldn't hold back the sharp inhale of breath as I felt his finger tease the wetness through the lace. I tried to stay composed, tried not to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how badly he was affecting me.

"Lucky guess," I whispered, trying to regain control, but my body betrayed me, my hips shifting slightly toward his touch.

His smirk deepened, and he glanced down, his thumb brushing against my skin. "Baby, I don't believe in luck." 

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