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Summary
Dear Commie-
Pau said I should start writing to you. As part of my ‘therapy’ or whatever the fuck. I’m not actually going to send any of these letters (God no), but apparently it would help to ‘get my feelings out’.
Well, Commie, let’s make this simple:
Fuck. You. That Smirnoff was mine and you knew it.Lots of hate,
Tom.When Tom’s therapist tells him to write imaginary letters to his rival, Tord, he laughs it off as a joke. However, after a while, he realizes there might just be more to his feelings than loathing. Too bad Tord tends to look through Tom’s stuff...or is it too good? Only time will tell.
