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There was something strange, Whipped Cream had to admit, to the boy he was talking to. Maybe it was the erratic schedule he had working part-time at a greenhouse. Maybe it was because whenever he sent a picture he always seemed to have a strange glow to him. Perhaps it was just the ungodly amount of plants he possessed. Whatever it was, texting this boy had quickly become his favourite activity besides dancing. Cotton Candy claimed he was in love, Whipped Cream was claiming he was just intrigued.