Well you bunch of.
I want to call you every name in the book.
I want to throw things and break stuff and scream.
But not until I have a few more facts than a drunken Ben can provide before lunch. Poor Ben, he was doing so well. Was that a lie too? My God, you're the ones who are fucked up.
I want to know who got them and who decided to keep it from me and don't say you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm talking about Cole's goddamned fucking LETTERS.
I think I hate all of you right now. Forever and ever. Prove me wrong, please. I'm begging you to tell me this wasn't orchestrated the way I know it was. Prove that you didn't just fuck up my life even more.
