"Kyle, what are you doing in the kitchen?!" yelled Felicia from the living room of their new loft. Thanks to the money they earned from the albums–and also a little help from Lucas, the artists purchased a loft to gather after work–and sometimes to discuss work too."I'm just trying to make dinner for everyone," Kyle shyly rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a recipe I got from my mom,”Felicia shook her head and stoop up, "It’s okay, Kyle. You can come to sit. I don’t trust your cooking skills,”"What? No! Let me take care of this, Felicia,”"Kyle, just accept the truth, please. You can't cook. Even your mom thinks the same," Felicia snatched the knife from his hand. "And this is not a toy. You’re gonna end up cutting your hand,”"It's not like you're some big chef or something," Kyle rolled his eyes."Maybe this knife is useful after all," Felicia rubbed her chin, staring rig
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