Khanh the Killjoy

Oh god, I smell a Mary Sue

Under Different Stars  - Amy A. Bartol

Save me.


“Five-ten is not that tall.”

“C’mon, you look like a Viking. Those modeling agents would freak for your hollow cheekbones and I bet they’ve never seen a natural blond walk through their lobby doors.” He stops at the end of the block and waits for the light. “But, when they see your freakish eyes, they’ll beg you to sign with them.”

“My eyes are not freakish!”

Enrique makes a derisive sound. “I’ve never met anyone with violet eyes,” he replies, raising his eyebrows. “If I had eyes like yours, I’d be in New York making some serious cash.”