The girls
Now that I'm free to be myself
who am I?
-- Mary Oliver, Devotions
Their conversations fluctuated from light-hearted to pessimistic and back, never managing to veer too far. They stood in a very precarious position, a strip of land between two pitfalls that were Ryan and Henry, difficult to ignore. The ground broke off and debris fell into the abyss, but for one precious moment, they were able to coexist. Theodore even moved to the spot next to Laith, so they could share the bed, hand on his knee. What he really wanted was to hold Laith’s hand, but that level of intimacy was far more than he could ask for. He’d already gotten a hug; that should be enough. Taking Laith’s hand would be pushing his luck.
At two in the morning, the girls came home. They heard the front door open, laughter and giggles loud in the foyer. The first thing Theodore did was get up and close his bedroom door. One of the rooms was just across from his; the moment Jessie and Hannah came down the hallway, they’d see Laith on his bed. Fully clothed, just chilling, but still. The implications were mortifying.
He listened through the door. Their drunken conversation traveled down the hallway, breaking apart the moment it reached the first door. Daisy and Nadia bid their goodbyes as Jessie and Hannah pushed forward. Right outside Theodore’s door, their footsteps could be felt through the wooden flooring, drunk and uneven, stepping out of line. Once inside their own room, the girls closed the door.
Turning around, his eyes fell on Laith, watching from the bed. There was a hint of emotion on his face, similar to the one from before, when they’d hidden around the corner while the girls had left.
A pang of guilt drew Theodore’s eyebrows upwards. “Do you…” Oh god, he already regretted this. “Do you wanna meet them?”
Laith held the stare.
“You said I shouldn’t.”
“I know.” He swallowed. “So do you?”
“Yeah.” His reply was meek and small, Laith’s voice a whisper.
Theodore’s pulse quickened.
In the hallway, a hand knocked on the door. Laith stood a couple of feet behind him, leaning against the door frame—he could feel Laith’s stare boring into the back of his neck. Behind the door, feet shuffled as the girls giggled, saying words he couldn’t make out.
“Who is it?” Jessie asked, louder than before.
“It’s me. I wanna talk to you.”
“We’re getting dressed. I’ll go to you when we’re done.”
Alright, then. With his heart in his mouth, he turned around and joined Laith in the doorway. The way Laith leaned on it was similar to the time on the farm, except his hands were hidden in his jacket pockets now, shoulder against the frame. A step too far into his personal space, Theodore touched the dog tags, fingertips feeling their edges. At this point, tobacco was the only thing he wanted to breathe.
“What do you wanna ask them?” He kept his voice quiet, so it wouldn’t travel along the hallway. It was a whisper in the inch of space that separated them.
“I don’t know. I guess I just want to see how incompatible we really are.”
“They’re the straight ones, Jessie and Hannah. You saw us jogging that one time.”
“I remember. They’re taller than the other two.”
“Yeah. Hannah is the bodybuilder and Jessie is the supermodel.”
“Supermodel, huh?” Laith smirked. “So she’s the one who fooled around with you.”
His face burned. “That was a long time ago. We don’t even talk about it.”
“Do you think about it?”
“No, it was terrible. One of the most embarrassing things I’ve ever done.”
“So that’s why you never did it again.”
“It’s not just that. I don’t…” His hands flew up in the air. “It would be meaningless. We don’t feel that way about each other.”
Laith hummed his understanding.
The sound of the girls’ door opening immediately pushed him a step away from Laith, dog tags slipping through his fingers. When Jessie showed up, she saw the two of them standing side-by-side, inconspicuous. Her eyes immediately locked on Laith, wide on her face, a breath caught in her throat. Half-paralyzed, she reached a hand back into the room and motioned frantically. In a moment, Hannah joined her at the door, eyes promptly doubling in size.
“So, um.” Theodore kept his voice low, blood rushing loudly in his ears. “You guys said you wanted to meet him.”
As if on cue, Laith moved away from the frame and reached a hand towards the two of them. Taking turns, they shook his hand and introduced themselves, even if unnecessarily—they didn’t know that. Laith introduced himself too.
“God, if I knew you were here, I wouldn’t be wearing pajamas,” Jessie spoke around a quasi-smile, using humor to lessen the awkwardness that hung in the air.
It worked, or rather, Laith let it work, offering her a smile in return. “Well, I like the cat on your shirt, so.”
“Thank you. I like your jacket.”
As the two talked, Hannah crossed both arms over her chest and leaned against the door frame. Her eyebrows drew close together, eyes glinting with suspicion. Laith noticed it, of course.
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions going through your mind right now.” Laith’s tone was outwardly pleasant, a very conscious choice. “You can ask me whatever you want.”
“Within reason, of course,” Theodore quickly added.
“Right. Reason.” Hannah squinted. “I just want to know what exactly is going on between you two. Theo says you’re not dating, but you’re always getting together—you’re in our apartment. I’m just not sure I like having a stranger walking around where I live.”
“It’s like Theo said, we’re not dating, but we are seeing each other.”
“So you’re dating.”
“No, there’s no exclusivity involved.”
“So it’s an open relationship.”
Laith breathed in, chest full. “I mean, I guess—”
“Listen, you’re either his boyfriend or you’re not, and I don’t want a stranger in my house. None of us bring strangers home. Why should you be an exception?”
Jessie touched Hannah’s arm, both as an indication for her to take it easy, as well as solidarity toward the point she was making.
That word practically knocked Theodore out, eyes big on his own face, heat crawling up his neck. Breath came in laboriously. “He’s not a stranger,” he blurted out. “I’ve known him for years—four years, actually.”
“No, I get that,” Laith rebutted. “I get what she’s saying. I’m a stranger to the rest of the household, which isn’t fair. They live here just as you do.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like I met you last night and brought you home.”
“You’ve known each other for four years?” Jessie interrupted. One of her eyebrows raised while the other scowled.
Sweat prickled at Theodore’s palms.
This was a horrible idea.
“Remember how I said he’s Ryan’s friend? That’s because we met through him.”
“So you’ve known him longer than you’ve known me,” Jessie remarked.
“Yeah. I mean, we only really started talking recently, but yeah, I have.”
Jessie glanced back at Laith, eyebrows twisted upwards. “Have you been taking him underground?”
“No, he’s been going with some other guys. I’ve never offered to go with him.”
“Do you mean Dylan and the others?”
“Or are you talking about Justin?” Hannah added.
“Huh, I didn’t know you knew about Justin.” Laith sounded genuinely surprised. “It’s not him, though. Theo knows some other guys. Could be Dylan, I don’t know; he’s just not who I’m thinking of.”
“Who are they?” Both girls spoke at the same time, addressing Theodore.
There was no breath left in his throat, lips sealed. His brain couldn’t even think of a word, much less put it in his mouth. All he managed to do was stare back at them without an answer.
“The guy I know isn’t dangerous, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Laith cut in. “I don’t know the others, but I can tell you this one guy isn’t gonna get Theo in trouble. It’s fine.”
“How do you know it’s fine? The tunnels are a cesspool.” The scowl on Hannah’s forehead only deepened.
“’Cause I know Tae-hwan.”
“Oh, so you are talking about Dylan and his friends.” A sigh left Hannah’s lips, shoulders relaxing.
“Am I?”
“Yeah, some of them used to go to our high school. We’ve met.”
“Wait, so if Theo’s going down anyway, why don’t you go with him?” Worry furrowed Jessie’s brow.
Laith shrugged. “I guess I could do that.”
“Would you mind giving us your number?” That was the nicest Hannah had sounded this entire time. “I’d like to be able to reach Theo when he’s not around.”
“Which is a lot, by the way.” Jessie met Theodore’s eyes, despite clearly addressing Laith. “He’s never around anymore. I guess he prefers Hwan to us.”
“You sound like my mom,” Theodore blurted out. “You two do, actually.”
“If you’re going to live with us, we need to know what kind of stuff you’ve been doing and the people you’ve been bringing over.” Just like that, Hannah was back to her strict self. “If you didn’t lie to us, we wouldn’t resort to this.”
“Hey, it’s fine,” Laith interrupted. He took a step in between the two, holding his palms up. “I’ll give you my number.”
Suddenly, Theodore’s chest burst. “They can have your number, but I can’t?”
“You can have it too. This isn’t worth fighting over.” Laith stood in a way that allowed him to glance back and forth between the two parties. “We’re all on the same side here. Your friends are just worried about you.”
“I don’t understand why you lie to us so much.” Jessie’s voice was soft with emotion, eyes fixed on him. “And it’s always about the stupidest things too. We just want to know you’re okay.”
“You don’t—” Oh god, this was it. He could feel the floodgates open. “You don’t get it. I’m still figuring stuff out for myself and I need to do it alone. I’m afraid to tell you everything, because I don’t know most of it either. I have a lot going on and I just—I don’t know how to talk about this stuff. Nobody taught me how. I don’t know what to say and what not to say. I don’t even know what you’re looking for.”
“We just wanna know the real you.”
“I don’t know who that is!” His lungs worked way too fast, hyperventilating. “Man, if I knew, I would’ve told you already!”
“Tell us who Laith is to you,” Hannah cut in, softer than before.
“You know that. He’s—” He could feel Laith’s stare burn into the side of his face, eyes trained on Hannah. “He’s everything to me.”
“What about Dylan and the others?”
“I barely talk to him. I don’t talk to him or to V. I’m friends with Hwan and Marquis.”
“Have you guys made up?” Jessie interrupted, blue eyes glancing between the two of them.
“Have we made up?” Laith’s confusion cooled Theodore’s blood.
“Yeah. Didn’t you guys have a fight last weekend?”
“Everything’s fine now,” Theodore quickly cut in, lungs devoid of air. “We’re okay. We’re friends again.”
Laith scowled at him. “What did you tell them?”
“Not much,” Jessie answered for him. “We know very little about you, but we do know about you. Last week, there was a fight—you ran into each other at a club and argued. A few days before, Theo stood you up. Before that, we didn’t hear anything, so I’m assuming it was fine. The first time—”
Fuck no.
“Listen,” Theodore spoke over her, sweat budding on his forehead, “I just told them very, very vague stuff. I thought it was fine. I didn’t really say anything about you, just how the evening went. You know, drinking and partying. Is that bad?”
“No, it’s fine.” Laith shook his head, eyebrows drawn the slightest bit together.
“Can we know you a little better, though?” Hannah’s friendly tone almost sounded like it’d come from a completely different person.
That question veered the conversation to much less inflammatory topics, but only because Laith was the one handling it. He told them very basic things about himself, that he lived in the tunnels and partied a lot. Naturally, the girls egged him on to keep talking about the underground, which completely removed the spotlight from him—smart. It was very easy to see how Laith shaped the conversation without letting them realize he was doing it. While explaining one thing, he mentioned something else, without actually going into it—a bait that the girls took time and time again, going in circles about the tunnels and everything they offered without actually ever learning anything about Laith at all. The only personal question they asked was about his neck tattoo, which he used to talk about his tattoo artist and the tattoo parlor that he went to rather than anything about himself. Watching his tactics in action, Theodore realized he’d fallen for them too.
Late into the night, the girls grew sleepy. They wanted to keep talking, but their eyes became too heavy to remain open for much longer and their heads began to nod. That was when Laith cut the conversation short with a very friendly observation that he’d stop wasting their time and let them go to bed. Hannah didn’t let him slip away without giving out his number, though. Laith reassured her that he hadn’t forgotten about it, and Theodore believed that was true—he’d been distracting them in hopes they’d forget about it. Cornered, Laith gave out his number, speaking it out loud so they could all punch it into their phones.
Theodore refused to do it. With his heart burning in the pit of his stomach, he crossed his arms and waited. They all noticed it, but nobody said anything. When Laith was done, the girls bid them both goodnight and walked back into their room. They held their stares a little too long on Theodore before closing the door.
“What is it?” Laith lowered his voice, so the girls wouldn’t hear him.
That only prompted Theodore to pass him a glance, no reply. Instead, he started for his own room. That trajectory involved crossing the hallway in front of Laith, which allowed him to hold an arm out and block Theodore, repeating the same question with different words—what’s going on? Still disinclined to answer, Theodore simply took his arm and dragged him into the room, chest consumed by flames. A very intense emotion choked him with a fist and filled his lungs with the urge to punch something. Frustration, probably—he wasn’t sure. He’d never felt it like this, so strong, all-encompassing.
Back inside his room, he shut the door. His first instinct was to slam it, but his hand grabbed the knob just in time and closed it softly. He had no idea where this had come from, only that he hated it. Hated what? His head immediately thought back to the girls saving Laith’s number into their phones, hands closing into fists. He’d hated that. He’d spent so long trying to get that number, jumping through hoops, playing Laith’s little games and for what? For those girls to get it at the first request. How many times had he asked for it? How many times had he asked other people for it? It was supposed to be special. Now, everything he’d gone through had been completely fruitless.
“Theo.”
Laith’s voice got a squint out of him, eyebrows drawn into a scowl. In his mind, they’d been building up to something far more meaningful than this, the moment Laith would finally let him have his number, the moment he’d finally proven himself worthy. He wanted to scream. Instead, he held the scream in his throat and threw his hands up in the air, frustrated. Heartbroken. Fuming. So many emotions fought for dominance that he wasn’t sure which one to feel.
“I thought…” He swallowed the confession—I thought this was supposed to mean something. What he needed to get through his thick head was that he wasn’t special, never had been. Why should he deserve anything meaningful? He was just an annoying little rich kid who couldn’t leave Laith alone. Idiot. “Whatever.” He sighed, shoulders drooping. “It doesn’t matter.”
“I’m curious now. What were you thinking?”
Their eyes met. The fire that had consumed him a minute ago had suddenly vanished, leaving the hearth empty.
“I thought you’d make it harder for them too. Getting your number—reaching you.”
Laith cocked his head aside, considering that. “You think I’m an asshole, huh?”
“I’m just wondering what I did to deserve it.”
“What?”
“The tricks and games.”
Laith’s shoulders drooped, eyes softening. “Theo, the truth is that… I didn’t want you to contact me. I didn’t want to give you an opening to get close to me, ‘cause I knew Ryan would have a problem with that.” He reclaimed his seat on the bed, this time turned around to face Theodore. “The fact that we got close anyway, despite everything I did to avoid it just solidifies what we have. It was gonna happen regardless—I just made it take longer than it should.”
The hearth in the bottom of Theodore’s chest grew warmer, no flames, no smoke. It felt like bedding around his heart. Meekly, he walked over to the bed, hands hidden behind his back. Laith watched him take the seat on his left, close enough that their knees touched.
“You never wanted to talk to me, did you?” His eyes remained downcast, staring at his own shoes.
“I did, actually, which was why I tried so hard not to, but ended up failing anyway.”
“Do you hate me?”
A hand touched his chin, fingertips soft on his jaw. Laith’s eyes were the heart of a forest.
“I really don’t.”
Closing his eyes, he let Laith kiss him.
***
Laith’s sobriety was a constant reminder that everything they did, everything they said was on purpose. They kicked their shoes off and lay in bed, lit up only by the floor lamp in the corner of the room. Laith slipped an arm under Theodore’s neck and held him close, head cushioned on Laith’s shoulder, that arm wrapped comfortably across his back. It reminded him of how they’d fallen asleep last week, except fully clothed and perfectly awake. He traced the edges of the dog tags as Laith talked, not very interested in the topic as much as he just wanted to listen to the low rumble of Laith’s voice, deep in his throat. It was nice, too nice. He never thought he’d cuddle anyone in his whole life.
The only problem was that he no longer knew the rules of this game. When Laith was drunk and horny, he knew exactly what to do, confident that reproach would never come, but with Laith sober in his bed, could he still do whatever he wanted? Laith had a lot more ground to judge him on, watchful of his every move now. If he slipped a hand up Laith’s shirt, would he be angry? He couldn’t even find the courage to try. Holding each other like this was nice, a different ride than anything they’d ever done, but he still couldn’t help wondering if it’d go anywhere else. They’d only gotten together to fuck before; he didn’t know if that was still the case. It was all he was good for, anyway.
As the sun peeked from behind the horizon, Laith grew tired; his words became sluggish and his speech stopped making sense. He nuzzled into Theodore’s hair, snuggling him, and fell silent.
Still fully awake, Theodore wondered why they didn’t fuck. Was Laith not interested? Maybe the appeal was only present when he was drunk and had no other option, or better yet, when Theodore started it. Since he’d been too self-conscious to make a move, Laith had simply held him and fallen asleep. Was he really that ugly? His chest trembled with a breath. Laith had complimented him before, but then again, he’d been drunk. Everything he’d ever said—save for tonight—had been under the influence. Were they still meaningful if Laith hadn’t changed his mind about them? Yes, except he hadn’t really complimented Theodore on anything tonight. He’d said he liked him, sure, but at this point, Theodore was looking for something else.
On the brink of losing his mind, he fished out his phone and tapped on the group chat with Hwan and Marquis.
How did you guys know you were in love?
A moment later, Hwan replied.
For me, it was the realization that I wanted to be with him every day of my life. That I wanted to bring him home to my parents and call him family.
That was really moving, but the mere thought of bringing Laith home almost made him throw up. He couldn’t even picture it, Laith walking through the front door with him. Unimaginable. His mother would scream while his father took the gun from under the stairs. Well, he didn’t know if that was still where Henry kept it, but the sentiment remained. Plus, Laith would never want to be there for The Talk; Theodore had been advised to bring his long-term boyfriend instead. To Hannah, that was who Laith was, but he’d rather not think about that word too much. Wishful thinking had already ruined him once, regardless of Sherry’s influence.
What if what you have still isn’t everything you want?
It just feels like nothing is enough.
Are you talking about Laith?
He’s literally cuddling me right now but I still feel empty. I want more than this. I want this every day of my life and far more too. I wanna come home to him and hold his hand on the street and tell everyone that he’s mine.
You want a relationship, Theo. That’s what you just described.
Do you do all of that with Marquis?
Yes.
How does it feel like?
Fulfilling.
He’d never been more jealous of a single word before. On an angry whim, he locked his phone and squeezed it, hand resting over Laith’s chest. He watched the rise and fall of his breathing, unperturbed by the fist that lay on him, dog tags smeared over with light, the reflection of daylight from the window. Slowly, his hand loosened, fingers touching Laith’s shirt. They traced the collar until it hid under the jacket—only then did it hit him that Laith had fallen asleep in his clothes. How common an occurrence was that?
Laith’s right arm rested across his own stomach, hand close to Theodore’s waist. He could touch it. The thought ceased his breathing, heart banging against his ribs. Leaving his phone on Laith’s chest, he moved his hand over.
Fingers touched Laith’s knuckles, following the bumps up and down, very lightly, barely there. Could he hold them? He brushed the side of Laith’s hand, nervous. An image came to mind right then, Marquis taking Hwan’s hand while straddling their guest, and Hwan holding it back. His heart sank. Choking, he took his phone and left the bed entirely. Laith stirred at the disturbance but didn’t wake up.
In the kitchen, he filled a glass with water and brought it to his mouth. Two of them rushed into his stomach, lungs breathing in deep. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t Laith find fulfillment in him? He couldn’t wipe the image of Marquis’ and Hwan’s hands from his mind, jealousy like acid on his tongue. God, he hated them. No, he hated what they had. No, he wanted what they had. He wanted Laith to rail him and hold his hand at the same time. What a dream. The lake promptly came to mind, the only time they’d ever held hands, swiftly followed by his knee in Laith’s stomach. Sometimes, he wondered if that was what Laith had wanted out it, to sink and sink and sink.
Trembling, he flipped his phone over and tapped on Hwan’s contact. His fingers called him before he could even process what he was doing.
“Hey, Theo.”
“Why doesn’t he do boyfriends? Why doesn’t he date anyone?”
“What?”
“It can’t be me, because he doesn’t date anybody, so what is it? I know he doesn’t believe people fall in love with who they really are, only a fake image in their head, a reflection—is that it? Does he really think he doesn’t know me?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m obviously talking about Laith. I really want him to date me, but I don’t know what would make him change his mind about that. Like, I don’t even know how to approach it. Hey, so I know you don’t think love is real and that dating is a waste of time, but maybe we could try it anyway? He’d never speak to me again.”
“I had no idea he felt that way. We’ve never talked about that.”
“Are you kidding me? That’s like, the biggest thing about him, that he’s a slut who doesn’t date anyone.”
“He wasn’t always like that. He’d only ever had one kiss before he left; everything else must’ve happened much later on.”
“Emily.” That word left him like the answer to everything. “Of course.”
“Who’s Emily?”
“I’ll call you back.” He hung up. In a frenzy, he tapped onto Emily’s contact and called her. The line rang a million times before she answered.
“Hello.”
“Okay, first of all, I’m so sorry for the way I spoke to you last week; I was shooting in the dark when I said what I said. I really didn’t mean to come for you the way I did. I’m really sorry.”
“Theo, it’s six thirty in the morning.”
“I’m sorry for waking you up too. I’m such a piece of shit; I have no excuse for this. I just really want you to talk to me.”
“What is it? You sound manic.”
“Why doesn’t Laith do relationships?”
“Oh, goddammit. You have to let this go.”
“I just wanna know!”
“I told you he’s no good. I told you not to fall for him; he’s only gonna break your heart. You have to move on from this.”
“Just tell me. Is it because he doesn’t believe in love? Is it to make a statement? Is it because he thinks relationships only start to end?”
“No, he’s just too trusting. He sees the good in everyone, he falls in love with everybody; he’s the perfect target to get hurt. He doesn’t date to protect himself.”
“I’m not gonna hurt him.”
“You don’t know that. You couldn’t possibly know that.”
“I have no intention of doing it!”
“Nobody does. People don’t get into relationships thinking of all the ways they’re going to break up with their partner. Don’t be stupid.”
“He could give me a chance, don’t you think? I could be just what he needs.”
“He’s too old for you.”
“He’s twenty-three.”
“Why are you even thinking about dating, anyway? You have so much ahead of you, parties to go to and people to meet. Go experience the world.”
“What if I wanna do all of that with him? These things aren’t mutually exclusive.”
“He’s already done that. Are you really gonna make him do it all over again?”
“Yeah—he hasn’t done it with me. It’ll be different.”
“Why do you think you’re so different?”
“I don’t think that; I don’t even know what the standard is. I just wanna give it a shot. What’s so wrong with that?”
“Look, he’s been through a lot. I know you just want somebody to hold your hand at the movies, and while I’m sure he could do that, he’s just not someone you wanna be around for long periods of time. I’ve already told you this—his lows are very low. Do you really think you could handle them?”
“I don’t know… Probably not, but isn’t that why he has you? You and Justin, I mean. If he ever does get with me, it’s not like you guys are going to disappear. Plus, I feel like he can handle himself, even when he’s going through something.”
“You’d think that, because he’s never called you in the middle of an episode. Theodore, he’s too much for you. I know he’s charming and he looks like a dream, but that man is a ticking time bomb. Every once in a while, he goes off on himself and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”
“He said he was okay now.”
“Now is the correct word.”
He frowned. “Does he really think I’d hurt him?”
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
Ugh.
“Emily, I know about the hospital; he told me last week. I know he’s self-destructive and that he drinks too much, but we all have something fucked up about us. Whoever I end up dating—if it’s him or not—won’t be perfect either, because nobody is. I just want to give it a shot with him.”
“Does he feel the same way about that?”
“I called you because I wanna know the answer to that. What can I tell him that would make him consider it rather than reject me outright?”
“Just ask him, Theo. There’s no tiptoeing around it. If you want him, tell him you do, but don’t expect him to say the same back.”
That last part cut right through him.
“Is that why you’re so angry at him? Because he wasn’t supposed to have said yes to me the first time?”
“Of course. We had an agreement.”
“That I was off-limits.”
“That any of our siblings were off-limits.”
“Why?”
“How would you feel if your best friend started dating Ryan? If everywhere you two went together, Ryan would be there. That you’d have to see them hold hands and kiss all the time. It’d be weird, right? Uncomfortable? That’s how he feels about you.”
“We’ve never even done anything in front of him.”
“The knowledge that you have is bad enough.”
“God, shut up. That’s such bullshit.”
She scoffed. “You think I’m making this up?”
“No, you’re sugar-coating it. Ryan hates me because I’m taking his fucking boyfriend away. He doesn’t want me near anything that’s his.”
“Then why are you so obsessed with what’s his? I saw the way you looked at Sherry last week, how you couldn’t stop staring at her chest. Embarrassing, really.”
His face burned, brain unable to answer.
Emily continued. “Why don’t you play with your own toys for a change? Stop going into his room just to take what’s his.”
“He doesn’t own people. I can date whomever I want.”
“Sure—those two people just happen to be in your brother’s pants. No correlation, right?”
He hung up.
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