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krow

did i cross a line with that infamous post?  

1 member has voted

  1. 1. alex says i didn't because he's my perfect little sweetie, but did i?

    • No, you didn't cross a line because you're krow and you came correct
      0
    • Yes, you crossed a line with that post even though you're krow and you usually come correct
      1


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"f them haters," alex tells me as we're about to enter a starbucks so i can get a skim no-dairy grande mocha. i so agree and tell him so.

alex can't go inside with me because he can only be contractually seen with ROCKSTAR products and there may be paparazzi (there's never paparazzi). so he waits outside and vapes and feels awful because his coach would KILL him if he knew he was juuling cotton candy rn. 

later i want to make out in the car but he just wants to drink my mocha and complains that i didn't get one for him too.

"don't you know me at all?!" he spits, and my brain breaks as i start to wonder if i really do know him at all. maybe i should stop dating olympians....

hm nah.

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alex wins another x games gold!!! i'm so proud of him. it takes hours for the ceremonies and photoshoots. after, we're driving home when his manager calls. are we hungry? i guess. maybe we can stop in a wendy's he suggests, and maybe take a pic for insta.

i snort hot breaths out of my nose for a while but we go to wendy's. "do you have anything plant based?" alex asks the casheer, as i dig my fingernails into the skin of my thumb. 

i can't say anything because we're literally living off alex's trust fund and sponsor payments.... if we didn't get his ten grand a month we'd be homeless. god knows "work" is a dirty word to me. besides, who would run his social media?? 

as we sit in my 2018 prius, alex tells me that cows are responsible for 75 percent of preventable emissions and ... i cut him off. "You know, skiing isn't exactly environmentally friendly," i spit back.

we fight for an hour in my car and break up. two week later we get back together. 

i cannot quit this man.

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i cannot do a 180 off the rail.

"you fucking pansy," alex barks. he's held me the first four times and this is my first solo attempt. 

i barely even hear alex's words as my face plants into icy hot snow. my eyes sting like i was just splashed with chlorine. 

"i can't," i tell alex. he grabs me by the scruff of my neck like i'm a cat and pulls me up. "Again."

my whole body aches as i scrape down the hill once more. my knees are bent. my core locked. i skip onto the rail, twist my body and fling myself into the great white beyond. miraculously, my skis catch before i do. my poles plant and i thrust forward. i did it. i landed a rail 270. alex is laughing behind his iphone. 

it's only 9:30 in the morning.

"you're going to milan," he says, sliding toward me and planting a kiss on my ice-burned cheek.

"i'm 36," i tell him.

"So's joey mantia," alex tells me. "now get your ass back up there. you're going to milan."

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