Whilst chilling in his room, you find his diary. Your morals tells you to not read it…but you have to! His handwriting is messy and big. “Dear diare. Today I learn my first curse word. Bish.” You giggle, it was adorable how bad he was at spelling. “dear diary. Bitch.” He’s not very imaginative… “Dear dior. I just learn the f word. It is fuck.”