Honestly, yes. I am. Take my coat, please, you look colder than I am. Ooh, I’ve got a belt that would go really nicely with your dress. Yes, I was going to wear it, but I’ve got another one that’ll look OK. Are you sure you’ve got enough money to get home? Have the rest of my change. My room’s bigger than yours, of course you can have people stay over in my room and I’ll go in the spare. Yes, I’ll pay for our holiday, and yes, you can owe me until our loans come in even though I won’t be able to eat until mine comes in too, and we seem to have a deficit I haven’t been paid which we can’t account for, oh well, I’ll pick up the slack. Please, yes, have the nicest rooms in the house, after all, I’m moving in last and I don’t take up much space, it doesn’t matter to me, even though I was really looking forward merely to having a room on that floor, don’t mind where, no, let’s not toss a coin, you probably deserve it more than I do, it’s fine, I’ll have the small room next to the shower or something, it’s fine. You look hungry, please have the contents of my purse, yes, that was going to buy my food for the week, never mind. Do you want to borrow my phone too?
Fuck you, all of you. It’s my own stupid fault for being such a pushover, and that doesn’t mean I like you any the less, but I am ridiculous sometimes and it’s all my own fucking fault. Fuck you anyway.