L. Packer
L. is 29 years old.
She is the Piano Player of Iмpeяfecт aиgel.
L. is also known as "Iмpeяfecт aиgel".
L. is located in London at Packer's home sweet home.
L. likes to exercise at the gym during off hours and is trying to rehearse scene in order to get ahead professionally.
Keep composing songs
*ruffles her hair and rolls eyes*
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Grumpy |
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Normal |
| Game: Popmundo |
| Points: 1810 |
| Days Active: 5324 days |
Latest Blog Post
An old me
Lexie sat cross-legged on the floor, the CD gently spinning in the player as the familiar tune filled the room, but the music did little to ease the heaviness in her chest. Her fingers brushed the edges of the photo, but the smile in the image seemed so distant, as if it belonged to someone else. The person in the picture was so full of hope, so carefree, she barely recognized her.
The melody swirled around her, and as she hummed softly, It was an old song she used to play on repeat, one that brought back so many memories of simpler days, a deep sense of longing began to settle over her. Lexie sighed, leaning back against the wall as the song continued, her thoughts drifted to the choices she’d made, things about what she had lost, what she had left behind, the path she hadn’t taken. She didn’t hate who she had become, but she couldn’t ignore the ache in her chest.
This song was her happy song, sad song and even angry song.
Hmm, nobody's talking
'Cause talking just turns into screaming,
And now is I'm yelling over her
She yelling over me
All that means
Is neither of us is listening
(And what's even worse?)
That we don't even remember why we're fighting
So both of us are mad for nothing
Fighting for nothing
Crying for nothing’s
But we won't let it go for nothing
No not for nothing
This should be nothing
To a love like what we got
Oh, baby, I know sometimes
It's gonna rain
But baby, can we make up now?
'Cause I can't sleep through the pain
This ain't the way that love is supposed to go
What happened to workin' it out?
Posted 3/7/2025, 3:00 AM
All characters in Popmundo are fictitious. Any similarity to any person living or dead is merely coincidental.
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