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Every time he saw his reflection, Jonathan gave a little smile and winked at himself. Call it vanity, call it affectation, but he called it a self confidence boost. A silent conversation with himself – an instinctive auto-pilot experience, every single time he saw himself.

You wouldn’t really call Jonathan handsome; he was just an average guy. But in his mind he was a titan, a lady-killer, a super stud. Picasso said that he who thinks he can, can. Jonathan could, and did.

What he never really understood though was why all the girls he dated wore spectacles.

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