She rubs the bridge of her nose muttering, “You boys are the reason I have preventative Botox at the age of twenty-seven.”
“It’s a good thing we pay you the big bucks, then.” I stand up and ruffle her hair before dipping out into the living room.
Parker, Jackson, and I all live in a six-bedroom penthouse apartment with a large wraparound balcony. Three of the rooms we sleep in, three we converted into sound-proof streaming rooms. The place has an open floorplan and is pretty minimalistic, just decked out with a lot of neon signs and limited-edition gaming memorabilia. There’s even an obnoxious poster of the three of us on the wall next to the black leather couch, which sits in front of a sweet ninety-inch TV with surround sound. There are floor-to-ceiling windows lining the east side of the room, where the kitchen is, and the south side, leading to the balcony. The windows and outdoor space were the main things Parker wanted when we picked an apartment, and the twenty-four-hour gym and sauna were the main things Jackson wanted. I just wanted enough rooms so we could stream and sleep in the same place but in separate rooms. We owned a warehouse a couple of years back where we streamed and edited, but it was annoying to travel back and forth each day to sleep when we were streaming for hours on end. Half the time we ended up crashing on a shitty couch, which was killer on our backs.
I swipe a water from the kitchen fridge, chugging it as Sydney comes to rest on the island.
“I’m serious, Aleks. Don’t pull the same shit you did at the Streamzies awards, okay? Wear the outfit I put out, please.”
“That leather jacket cost two thousand dollars, Sydney.”
“It was a black-tie event, Aleksander.”
I sigh and grab her hands, looking her directly in the eye.
“I, Aleksander Knight, promise you, Sydney Lake, that I will not only have one civil conversation with Davis Monroe, but I will also wear the exact outfit you have requested with only minimal changes.”
“No changes.”
“I’m wearing my necklace.”
“Fine. Minimal changes.”
I let go of her hands with a chuckle and circle back to the fridge. It’s almost midnight, and I’m starving. The nights where I stream, dinner falls to the back of my mind. It’s not until I finish that my body begins to register the hunger.
I pull out one of tonight’s servings of dinner that has been prepared by our chef, Alicia. Sydney hired her two years ago when she noticed that Parker and I were surviving off packets upon packets of two-minute ramen as dinner after our late-night streams. She said the sodium would kill us one day. Syd is a cross between an annoying little sister and a mother hen. You never really know which one you’re going to get on a given day, but we love her all the same.
“Can you heat one for me?” Jackson’s deep voice rumbles into the room as he drops himself onto one of the island barstools.
“Fine. But only because of that triple kill you got in the last three minutes.” I pop the lids off two containers, inhaling the smell of homemade lasagna, before shoving them both in the microwave for a few minutes.
“Alright, I’m heading home. I expect pictures before you leave for the event. And please don’t screw anyone in the bathrooms.” Sydney pauses right before entering the elevator and spins back around. “Scratch that, please don’t attempt any sexual acts with anyone at the VSAs. I hate the media fallout from streamer drama. Okay, thanks.” The elevator door closes on her tense grin.
“She’s still pissed about that time you finger banged that chick at the Streamzies,” Jackson chuckles.
“That’s because she said no fucking. Fingering didn’t count.”
The event was over a year ago, but Syd still uses it as leverage. The girl, some stream bunny, had gone around bragging to all of her friends after our little rendezvous. The news spread faster than an STI in a nursing home, and I was a trending hashtag, again. Everyone was talking about how, even after all these years of streaming, I hadn’t grown out of my bad boy ways. And yet these same people wonder why I stopped going to events. Why I drew back from the toxic limelight.
I wonder just how much trouble I would get in if I sent a body double in my place to the VSAs…
The microwave beeps, jarring me out of my spiraling thoughts. I toss a set of forks on the island before pulling the lasagnas out and taking a seat next to Jackson. The food is piping hot, but my starving body inhales it anyway. All the while, I plan for some way to make this upcoming ceremony a little more exciting.
TWO
* * *
STEVIE
“Damn, Stevie. You’re going to put the rest of us out of our jobs.”
I smirk, admiring myself in the mirror.
“Hey, you’re the one who called asking for an emergency set of extra hands,” I smooth down my black mini dress and re-cup my boobs, “and you know I always bring my A-game.”
“Mmm,” Deanna hums, “more like your dick game.”
I swat her arm with a flick of my wrist before grabbing my name tag and pinning it to my chest. I look at myself again, assessing the length of my dress and tugging on the hem. Damn it, is it too short? My ass is as round as a deflated balloon, so I didn’t think it mattered if the dress was a little on the shorter side. Whatever, it’s cute and I don’t have a change of clothes.
“Speaking of your dick game, have you heard from Chase?”
As if she spoke him into existence, my phone buzzes and I see a new text from said ex-boyfriend. I know that if I were to unlock it, the series of unread texts he has sent me over the last three days would glare back at me. All one hundred and fifteen of them. This is the third time I’ve broken up with Chase and the fifth time I have caught him cheating on me over the last five years. Which makes me seem like a bit of a dumbass because who goes back to a guy after he cheats on her a second time?
Me. Clearly.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“He’s been sending gifts to my place, and I’m five minutes away from moving.”
“You would sooner sell your kidney than move apartments, Stevie.”
I sigh because she’s right. I received the apartment from my yiayia’s will along with a hefty inheritance that goes into effect once I turn thirty. I love my parents, but it was my yiayia who spent the most time with me as a child, who gave me a place to turn to when the only people at home were nannies and butlers. The apartment is everything to me. Which means that even though Chase could literally sit in the lobby and greet me every morning if he wanted to, I wouldn’t move.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to down your mood.” I turn back to Deanna as she gathers me in a bear hug, the familiar scent of her coconut body lotion grounding me.
“It’s fine. I’ll just focus on the free booze we’ll get to take after the shift.”
“And the fine men we will be serving.”
“Dee, half the men in there are vampires who flinch at the sight of sunlight.”
“And the other half are guys who are only popular because they’re hot.”
“Fair.”
“And just imagine the kinky shit they are probably into.”
She bumps her hip into me, and I smile at the prospect. While Chase may have cheated on me multiple times, I remained woefully faithful to him. Which meant five years of sex that consisted mostly of reverse cowgirl.