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Good kisser

At Mr. Maverick’s opulent mansion, Alan slumped heavily on the plush couch, his mind swirling with confusion and disbelief. Shaking his head in disbelief, he muttered, "No, she can't say that. Becca doesn't mean that, right? Mr. Maverick?" he asked, searching for reassurance. Mr. Maverick let out a weary sigh, his face etched with a mix of frustration and resignation. "Wouldn't it have been best if you never spoke to her? I've already told you, Becca left and isn't coming back."

"But why?!" Alan exclaimed, sitting up straight, his hands running through his disheveled hair as he let out a heavy groan. "I will find her, Mr. Maverick. She has to explain this to my face."

Mr. Maverick rolled his eyes, the weight of the situation clearly wearing on him. "You see, this thing called love is not meant for everyone."