I groan "god I need darker curtains" I mumble as I open my eyes. The clock reads 11am, I snarl "it's too early for this s*". Failing to get back to sleep I get up, pulling on a pear of breafs I head downstairs. The private chef my mother's new husband has is preparing lunch. "make me pancakes" I demand as I sit at the kitchen island. The chef ignores me, "hay, kitchen slave, I said make me pancakes" I order loudly.
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