Alejandro:

Free today?

It's a Saturday and you're not a celebrity. I know you're free.

thats a pretty ignorant observation

Claridge's?

a hotel? im not spending a night with you

I didn't say I wanted to spend the night with you.

I like the restaurant there.

Davies and Brook.

Hello?

It's a date?

see you there

***

My mobile rings from the kitchen. I get up from the couch but tell Jamal to keep working as I rush to answer it:

RAVEN

"Really, Edgar? You sent Edward?" she accuses as soon as I answer, defiantly choosing to skip greetings.

"What are you on about?" I ask, the velocity of my speech significantly slower than hers.

"You're really going to act like you don't know?" Lull. "You sent Edward to attack Harry!"

"What?"

"Don't act like you don't know, Edgar!"

"And why would I do that?" I fire back, the volume of my voice increasing this time.

"Oh, don't act like you don't know! He told me what happened at the gallery! He was going to apologise!"

He was going to apologise? What the fuck does that even mean? "And what was stopping him all of yesterday?"

"He was trying to find the right time! He says it was all just a joke, and you took it and made a mountain of it!"

"Was that his apology? Then, he deserved for Edward to fuck him up. He's lucky he isn't in hospital right now."

"This is a low blow, Edgar, even for you."

Feeling my entire body tremor violently in anger, I hang the call up.

How dare she accuse me of hiring a hit on that walking garbage can she calls a man? How dare she even defend him? How dare she switch the tables and lay the blame on me?

Fuck her!

Edward:

k

why dis you attsck harty

when did you go to him

im comimg over

"Everything good?" Jamal asks as I make my way back to the sitting room.

I take a deep breath and prepare myself to speak so I don't blow up on him like yesterday. "I'm... I don't even know how to say this, so... my ex-friend's boyfriend tried to kiss me the other day and she was trying to do damage control, I guess."

His eyes grow too large for his face. "Wait, is the friend your ex or is it the boyfriend?"

"Both-wait! I mean her boyfriend is my ex."

"Whoa!" he exclaims. "And you're still friends?"

"Kind of. I don't know - after today, I'm not sure."

"No cap." He laughs but seems to recover relatively quickly. "I'm sorry. You said he tried to kiss you? Why would he do that?"

"Because he's a walking toilet?"

"How long were you with him?"

"A few weeks? A little over a month? It wasn't serious; we were just fucking, really."

"So, for a month you had sex with a 'walking toilet'?"

"That's actually why we broke up."

He nods slowly. "What's the plan?"

I furrow my brows in confusion, but I get what he's saying quickly. I need to go to Edward's and ask him why he attacked Harry after he'd promised he wouldn't. Just then, my mobile vibrates in my hand.

Edward:

im comimg over

k.

This is one of the things I hate about Edward. I'll send him lengthy messages expecting long answers where he explains himself and he only sends back: 'k'. What the fuck does that mean?

"I need to see Edward. Let's just quickly finish up here so we can both be on our way."

He agrees and we work faster to finish quickly. Two hours later, I pull up at Edward's gate and he lets me in. I walk in to be greeted by Léo's voice from the living room: "I can't believe you. You never learn, do you?"

He storms out of the room upon my entrance.

"Trouble in gay paradise?" I ask as I take a seat next to Edward.

"He's upset because I fought with Harry. Says I 'attacked' him or whatever," he says nonchalantly. "I guess that's why you're here too?"

"I thought we'd agreed you wouldn't do anything?"

"And I thought I told you that was bullshit?" he counters.

I hear a sigh come out of my lips. "Edward, it's not a joke. If you're going to act like this, you'll make me lose trust in you."

"That's just whatever. What's done is done."

"That's bullshit. You can't go around attacking people and then saying, 'What's done is done.' As we speak, I don't know if Raven will ever talk to me."

"About time," he mumbles. I feel my face heat up.

"You just ruined my friendship, Edward! And in case you've never noticed, I don't have a lot of friends! It may mean nothing to you: you're more confident than me; you're bolder than me; heck, you've got more money than me and you live in this-- mansion! You can buy friends if you want - not that you would ever need to - but you could if you had to. I don't have that option; so-- I think you owe me an apology."

His eyes fall on mine, a glossy finish on them. His lip quivers as he tries to push the frown off his face. "I couldn't let him get away with what he did, Edgar. I tried. Trust me, I tried. Really fucking hard. But you said you weren't going to do anything and-it drove me insane. I'm so sorry, I-"

Now is my turn to comfort him as I hear his voice break. His body quivers under my arms as his speech grows more muffled by the second - something he tries to make up for by raising the pitch of his voice. Shushing him, I assure him that I understand. I mean, I have grown with this guy, and we have taken care of each other in the six years that we've known each other. It couldn't have been easy to see me come inside his house at eleven in the evening asking for a place to sleep because I was scared to sleep alone. It couldn't have been easy to listen to my voice break as I told him what had happened to me. It couldn't have been easy to listen to me struggle for words to tell him what had happened to me. It couldn't have been easy to imagine his best friend - whom he has called one of the strongest people he's ever met - helpless, trying to understand what was happening.

None of it could've been easy.

"I'm really sorry about the thing with Raven. I know you love her for whatever reason." He sniffles as he pulls away from me and wipes the tears from his eyes, instantly colouring his dazzling face in a new, still beautiful, colour.

"It's okay, I guess. I can deal with Raven," I reassure him.

He nods and rises from the couch. "Not that I don't want you here, but you weren't planning to stay, were you? I've a lot of grovelling to do."

"It's okay, I understand. Go get him, tiger."

He smiles. "You know I always do."

And that's one thing I love about Edward: we never dwell on the bad. No matter how depressing things get, I know that I will walk out of his door wearing a smile.

Edward is probably my reason for living.

***

As I hand the valet my car keys and watch his scowl grow deeper, I can't help but feel a voice at the back of my head nag me to pull my socks up and dive into the mud. And it's kind of true. I need to work a lot harder if I want to see myself dine here every week and drive one of the cars I saw at the first shoot and live in a house as massive as Edward's, but fuck if I'm not tired.

Sometimes, I swear the game is rigged.

I'm tired. I'm tired from slaving away for four days a week, and then slaving away even more for another three. I'm tired from having to cook and clean and buy groceries. I'm tired from being an adult. I'm tired from driving for God knows how long to reach this hotel.

I pull my mobile out and fix my makeup - using the screen as a mirror, and I start making my way towards the entrance.

Claridge's. European Union. Ireland. England. USA. European Union. Claridge's.

The hotel's façade looks like it was modelled after Buckingham Palace, neat gardens of pink petals and Islamic green shrubs tucked in the safety of picket fences, doors-upon-doors opening to picket balconies.

I am wrong. This hotel wasn't modelled after Buckingham Palace - it is Buckingham Palace.

Alejandro:

see you there

where are you

Reception.

Are you here yet?

I walk in and, sure enough, I find Alejandro has made himself at home in the reception, seated on a cream-white couch that was put here to raise the price of a stay in this hotel to exorbitance. The simple colour scheme is a flow of tone - the ceilings, walls and floor are all a monochromatic white with dark patterns laid on the floor.

Should I be walking on this floor?

The paintings on the walls are reminiscent of medieval art but still have a modern flair to them. Gluttony is celebrated in these paintings. Gluttony is equated to luxury; and luxury is equated to happiness.

How true is it all?

Are we all just selfish pigs, trying to have more than our neighbours just because we can?

I hope society's not too far gone. I hope we're not too far gone. I hope I'm not too far gone.

"Try not to fall," a low, condescending voice croons from behind my shoulder.

I roll my eyes and tsk. "Fuck you, butthole."

Alejandro comes to my line of vision, looking much neater in a tuxedo, holding a big, brown envelope.

I like how big his hands are.

He chuckles. "It's nice to see you in good clothing, finally. How much of your pay did it take?"

"If you're going to be mean, then I'll just leave."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Shall we?"

I scoff but proceed to follow him.

"What happened to your sharpness? I can't be with you if you aren't sharp."

"I also can't be with you if you aren't smart; so, zip it," I strike back. He whoops in a low, excited voice. I'll admit that I like being 'sharp.' I like that Alejandro brings out that side in me.

Do I like him?

I think I like him.

"And what makes you think we're 'together'?"

"We're not?"

"No."

"Let's see if we can change that by tonight." The way the words just flow out of his mouth, almost undone, will always make my stomach flutter.

The simple aesthetic of the hotel's reception flows into the restaurant as we're led to our table. High ceilings, monochromatic white. A few landscapes on the walls so it doesn't get depressing, a pop of colour in the seating - which is still white but is more diluted than the pure colour of everything else.

I like it as much as I'd thought I would. I was honestly meant to live this life.

Seeing a smirk on Alejandro's face makes me aware of the huge grin on my face. I quickly correct it by wearing the veil of indifference. A curtain is drawn slightly, and we go inside to find a more intimate single table for two, adorned with a bouquet of marigolds.

"Like it?" Alejandro asks with the biggest grin.

"It's... I like it," I answer with a smile of my own.

"So, uh-this will be a bit awkward but, I need you to-" He hands me the envelope he's been holding since I walked in. I carefully open it and draw the papers inside. They are almost as heavy as my employment contract.

NON-DISCLOSURE AND CONFIDENTIALITY AGREEMENT

I chuckle nervously. "An NDA?"

He rubs the back of his neck. "I'm sorry; my lawyer says everyone I talk to has to sign it. I know it'd probably be cuter if I could just trust you but-"

"Do you have a pen?"

"Are you upset?"

I laugh lowly, trying not to startle anyone but also to reassure him that I'm cool. "No. Just give me a pen so I can sign this, and we can get it over with."

He fumbles in his pockets and produces a pen. "You don't have t-"

"Done." I hand him his pen and contract and smile. "So, when is the waiter coming?"

He smiles, the muscles on his face relaxing from their strenuous former reflex. "Thank you."

"Does it ever get exhausting?"

"What?"

"The whole thing - being a celebrity, having to make people sign NDAs, having to be careful what you say. Does it ever get exhausting?"

"It gets to you. Sometimes I wonder why I still do it. I mean, the pay is great, and the world treats you like royalty, but sometimes I just want to drive to my village and just-eat with my mom in peace. Sometimes I just want to sit with people and have them see me as human, you know? It's almost always exhausting, I guess, is what I'm trying to say."

"You want to sit with people?" A laugh escapes my lips.

"Yes! Why?"

"On the day of the shoot, it seemed like you wanted to do anything but sit with people."

He chuckles and a faint hue of pink creeps onto his face. "That was not a good look, was it?"

I shake my head, still laughing mindlessly.

"Yeah, I was in a mood because"-his eyes darken slightly- "I guess I just woke up on the wrong side of bed that day."

He shrugs, and just as I'm about to call him out on his bullshit, the waiter walks in.

"Have you decided what you will order?" he asks as he struggles to contain his excitement in his trembling body and his overzealous face.

I place my order and Alejandro tells the waiter to 'surprise him'. The latter fumbles as he tries to hide his admiration of his crush. He drops his pen more than once and chuckles nervously: "Sorry, it's my first day." Alejandro simply nods and continues with whatever he was saying. The waiter asks if I'm vegan, which I confirm.

"You're vegan?" Alejandro asks once the waiter is out.

"Yeah. But it's fine; you can eat whatever you want - I try not to politicise it too much."

"Why?"

I feel my brows furrow. Wow, I'm really signing up to look old by the time I'm thirty, aren't I? "Why what?"

"Are you vegan?"

"I don't know-I guess I just really like animals? It's healthier. It's better for the environment. It gives me the chance to be a minority. It's a lot of things, really."

He nods. "You know a lot about me?"

"Not really. I mean, I know that your name is Alejandro Lorenzo García; you're from a small village in Catalonia, where you grew up chasing goats" -he breaks into a fit of laughter- "and you can't read."

He continues in his uncontrollable fit and I smile innocently. "So, how much of it did I get right?"

He finally recovers. "Where do you get your information?"

"My friend." I scowl. "Did he feed me a bunch of baloney?"

"Does your friend watch football?"

"I think he watches it to see who's cute, not because he has a deep appreciation for the sport."

He smirks. "Well, that explains a lot."

"That's homophobic talk," I chastise.

"What did I say?"

Just then, the waiter walks in again holding two small, light-refractive boxes. If it's a wedding ring I will slap Alejandro. As he sets one in front of either of us, I notice it's silver with 'Davies and Brook' etched on it. Alejandro tells him to make his surprise vegan. I roll my eyes, but I still feel my heart grow fuller - just excited at finding someone who cares for my opinion so much that they will change their order at a restaurant.

"Why did you do that?" I ask, feigning disapproval.

"What?"

"You don't have to change your order for me."

"I didn't change it for you."

"Good. Because it doesn't impress me."

He smirks. "Okay."

I open my box and find a tray of balls of confectionaries inside. Beautiful, brown chocolate makes my mouth water as I pick one up and pray it's vegan. But then, why would the waiter have asked only to bring me something non-vegan?

"That's supposed to last you until they bring the food around - and it's a long wait," Alejandro informs me.

Whatever. It can't be that long a wait anyway.

"So, do you want to correct my friend's errors?" I ask demurely.

"Yeah, not really. Just look me up on Wikipedia and you're sorted. How about you tell me about yourself?" he replies, his voice holding just as much challenge as mine.

I frown. "That doesn't sound fair to me."

"I know. With just one click, you'll know everything there is to know about me, while I have to beg just to know the smallest thing about you."

"I thought you wanted to feel normal? I'm giving you that chance."

He pulls out his phone and starts typing something. Just as I'm about to tell him that he's being rude, he reads from it: "Faustian bargain: A deal in which one focusses on the present gain without considering the long-term consequences."

"Okay? What are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say, Miss Brown, that you are the devil."

I laugh and feel my eyes widen. "Miss Brown?"

"I'll do it. Just... don't laugh at me, okay?"

I nod.

"So, your friend was right, my name is Alejandro Lorenzo García. I was born and raised in Catalonia. I did not grow up chasing goats; I played football. When I was in Grade 4, the maths teacher saw me play with my friends and threatened to beat me if I didn't join his team and I kind of joined then. I was pretty talented - very smart too: I skipped Grade 7 and went straight to secondary school, and Oxford offered me a scholarship in my final year. I went there to study sports sciences and I graduated and... I guess here I am!"

A frown makes its way back to my face. "That's it?"

His face mirrors mine. "What makes you think there's more?"

"You're probably the most boring celebrity I know."

He chuckles lightly. "Well, I've told you about myself; I think now's your turn."

And so, the rest of the evening goes. Alejandro tries to get me to sleep over at his house, but he chuckles when I tell him that I'm not trying to be a hooker and accuses me of giving him blue balls.