"You're not my dad."He grabbed her wrist with such force that she thought it would bruise right there. "I'm whatever I tell you I am, you fucking cun.... Now come here." He jerked down on her arm, giving her no choice. Rosie swayed in her heels and fell onto his knee, just barely catching herself on the desk. She sat up primly, hoping maybe this was all he wanted. She could just sit on his knee, and let him do what he wanted back there.But Mr. Jones leaned forward, reached around Rosie with. By music crowd, I don't mean the band, or the punk rockers, or the metalheads, or anything of the sort. I was just friends with people that had an interest in music as a whole. It got to the point where if there was a dispute over a song, I was the go to guy. People often asked me when a song came out, who sang what, or what were the lyrics to a certain part. Just because I was deep into music, doesn't mean I played instruments, though. I tried and was never good at what people considered the. More

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