Rock Star Billionaire

“God Stacey, you’re such a Monica!” Nick exclaimed.

“Well excuse me for not wanting to give us all cancer,” Stacey snapped back.

“Get off WebMD, Stace. Pizza crust cannot give you cancer.”

“You would be surprised by the kinds of things gluten could do to you if you took some time out of playing space games to actually read about important things on the internet.”

Nick sighed and looked at me as I began to cover my face with my palms.

“I am not going to play judge to yet another pseudo court-drama about the importance of video games in your burgeoning career as a programmer,” I mumbled. “Deal with your girlfriend yourself.”

Stacey gasped. “Traitor! You’re supposed to be my best friend!”

“I am. Which is why I am staying out of this.”

They both looked confused and annoyed, as though they were completely clueless about where to go from here. It was comical. Nick and Stacey were the best couple I had ever seen: they were best friends first, and argued over everything from Nick’s video games to Stacey’s Cosmo-inspired women’s blog to pizza and gluten. I also happened to secretly know that they were both working extra shifts – Nick at the Southern Eastern University’s IT help desk, and Stacey at the library – to save money so they could surprise each other on their three-year-anniversary.

Stacey had been my best friend since 9th grade, and when she had met Nick – a freshman in college at the time – we were in our senior year of high-school. At first I was worried sick that we would grow apart after she had found a boyfriend, but it turned out that Nick was incredibly cool and we got along well. So much so that when Stacey and I joined hi

m for college at SEU two years ago, moving into his two-bedroom apartment seemed the natural thing to do. Most people seemed surprised to learn that I lived with a couple, but to us it was just three best friends being roommates and goofing around the house. And my room was far enough away from theirs for me to not hear things I wouldn’t want to hear. I was going to miss them when we all graduated and they moved on to get married, have babies, and do other things couples do. I was a tad envious of what they had. They really were perfect for each other.

Watching their relationship had been one of the reasons I had grown to become ridiculously picky about men. The other reason was a guy I had dated my freshman year who cheated on me with a sorority girl. Rick – a Dick if there ever was one – was my first boyfriend, and things seemed to be going great as our first anniversary was approaching. I was going to lose my virginity to him that night. Everything was planned. Nick and Stacey were on a weekend getaway, I had cleaned and double-cleaned the apartment, bought candles and incense and all kinds of other romantic crap. I had cut my shift short so I could set everything up, but when I got home I caught him in bed, in my bed, with a blonde girl I had never seen.

I ended up getting drunk to try and wipe away the sadness, and that led to having sex with another bar-goer. When I woke up and saw my mistake next to me, I pledged that I would not casually date men, I would not settle for anything less than what Nick and Stacey had. One year later, I was still going strong on the pledge. Except for the part where I often dreamed of my boss’s naked body. These dreams were sporadic at first, but were occurring more and more frequently. I was still very firmly set on never acting on my feelings or falling for his advances.

I turned my attention back to Nick and Stacey’s bickering and gave up. “Guys, just get a medium pizza with rice-crust and a medium regular. Problem solved.”

After a short pause, I looked at Stacey with amusement. “I’ll be eating the regular, Stace, but I am still morally on your side.”

She threw a pillow at me and we burst into simultaneous giggles.

Half an hour later the doorbell rang.

“That should be the pizza,” Nick said, popping up.

“God I am starving. I hope they sent the extra pepper flakes. They always mess that up,” I said.

“I don’t understand your inability to consume any kind of food that doesn’t burn your soul.”

“It doesn’t burn, that’s the point. Not in a bad way, at least. Spice makes me appreciate the flavor more.”

“Weirdo.”

“Says the girl who refuses to eat regular pizza because she read something on The Great Internets.”

She scowled. “God, you’re starting to sound just like Nick.”

“Where did he disappear to anyway? It shouldn’t take this long to-” she stopped as Nick showed up looking utterly confused.

Instead of two pizzas, however, he was holding a giant bouquet of red roses.

“When I said I wanted gluten free, that’s not what I had in mind,” Stacey said. “But how sweet, Nick!”

His eyes widened. “No! No no. Shit. I can order you some flowers if you want! Sorry, baby. These are for Aria. From someone named Zayden.”

Stacey gasped loudly, covering her mouth. “Zayden as in-“

“As in her boss Zayden,” Nick finished her sentence, looking equally confused.