4. BRYCE

Surviving and thriving off five hours of sleep. I wished I'd been able to recall my dream. Instead, all I recalled from the night was hip thrusting a pillow and squeezing my thighs around it like I was sharing my bed with someone.

The entire group had sent through their thoughts. Once I was vertical with a coffee, I read through the conversations in the chat. Each of them had done their own search for him, some of them pulling out articles from Forbes and Time Magazine. It turned out, Mr. Everett Harper was actually more known than I thought. Hailed as a savant in the tech security space, I was going through all the stages of grief at once, knowing he would've rifled through my life if I'd given him my name.

— His picture is hot. Was he as hot IRL? Cristian asked.

— Yeah. Please tell me you exchanged numbers. Jai added.

—Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Bryce probably scared him off. Hugh joked.

It made me giggle.

— I sprinkled glitter on him. I might have scared him TBH. I'm not sure if he was even into me. He complimented the dress, which he stood on, so I need to attack that was a cloth today. But he practically served himself up for me. There was even this halo light from the booth he was in like a character selection screen and he was being hovered over. I blurted out to all of them.

The princess dress and all of its glitter gave me confidence. Outside of that, I was a ball of spiraling anxiety. It might've been because Princess Valeria's kingdom was made of ice, and everything around was so strong and beautiful.

— Maybe we should've gone last night. Cristian said.

— I wish. I'm at my parents place and they are going through a photo album of all my father's family and their marriages. Jai said.

— Although secretly glad not to be so involved. He added.

Jai's Indian heritage had ties to arranged marriages. He'd openly spoke to us about how if his mother had also been Indian or they lived anywhere else, he might not have felt so comfortable to come out as gay to them.

— We're princesses! I reminded them.

—We get to decide what we do with our lives. At least we do as our alter egos.

It was a massive appeal, especially on days like today when the clouds threatened to plunge the city into those early fall blues. For me, there was one quick fix. Music. I blasted a fast paced mix of pop music beats with the lyrics faded and interpolated into each other. It was a work-in progress mix I was in the middle of, but it was enough to keep my brain from groaning about the mistake I made on passing up Everett.

A quick clean of my apartment and a little rearranging of the draped that kept areas of the open space a little more confined. I also kept a large window open to welcome in the cool breeze after I'd worked up a sweat from all the moving around I'd done.

It was noon and I was out of things to do.

Saturday afternoon and I was sat in my leather beanbag in front of the TV, debating on either video games or TV. I didn't want to do either option, both of them were going to have the same eventual fate of me growing bored and stalking Everett online more.

I crowdsourced advice, as per usual, and none of them were helpful.

— You could try chaining yourself outside his office building. That way he has to pay attention to you. Hugh obviously wanted the most dramatic option of everything he could think.

— Maybe call the company, ask if he's there. Jai came in.

— It's a Saturday, and he's a CEO, he's not at work. Cristian added to that.

— Alternatively, you could come by the coffee house. It's only a couple blocks away from his office. Hugh actually had a decent idea, which wasn't unusual.

It was an easy decision to make once Cristian said he'd be down to meet for coffee since he'd been to a nearby stationery store for more of the thick glossy card stock we used for our procedurally generated princess RPG.

— Not fair you're all meeting without me. You better not talk about the campaign. Otherwise Princess Zahra will not roll for arcana checks the next time we meet. Jai's obligations outweighed everything else, and we all understood it as part of his culture.

In a tie-dye blue white and green shirt, colors of the gay male pride flag, a happy accident of tie-dying with only two colors. I paired it with a pair of beige cargo pants, the more pockets the better, and some stylish brown Chelsea boots, but all brought together by my olive green parka with the insulated insides and the fluffy white-grey trim on the hood. I was sure to some I looked a mess, but to me, I considered this a full look that had heads turning.

I took the subway, taking the L Line, changing at Broadway to get the A and getting off at Chambers where Hugh was at work in a small coffee house. All in, a forty minute journey where every man I saw in a suit I thought could've been Everett.

The coffee house, named The Roast of Manhattan was popular spot during the week, more so on the weekend, and even heavier when the smell of rain was in the air. From outside, I spotted Cristian seated at a table by the window and relief swept through me.

"Oh my god, I totally forgot this place was going to be packed," I said as my first words to Cristian.

"Don't thank me," he said. "Hugh was fighting people off to save this when I got here like ten minutes ago. Plus, there's a socket. I figured you'd be bringing your laptop to work."

"In this weather," I sighed, glancing out of the window and taking my parka off. "I'm not going to risk it."

Cristian had almost finished his coffee, the foam sticking to the sides of the cup. "I went on a little spree this morning. I bought a new cologne, and it's got this raspberry musk scent to it. Androgynous, unisex, I can use it every day."

"Musky raspberry. Let me have a sniff."

He held his wrist out in front of my face. "I won't blame you for not being able to immediately smell it," he said. "Hugh couldn't, but I think all the coffee has blasted his sense of smell."

It was faint, the smell, but it was nice. "Likely," I said, taking his wrist and really getting my nose in. "It's really Princess Lysa." I let got of him. "You know I prefer my musky tobacco type scents, the feeling like my head is being cradled in a handsome Daddy's chest." A shiver ran down my back.

"So, I wanna know what you were like when you first met him," he said.

"First, coffee."

Hugh arrived at the table mere seconds after mentioning it. "Made these accidentally, just the way you both like them," he said.

"They're gonna fire you, we can pay for our coffee," I said, attempting to stay hushed. "But thank you."

He sighed, relaxing on the table in a crouch. "Tell us everything," he said. "How did you actually meet? Was he tall? He has tall eyes."

"Tall eyes?" Cristian repeated.

"He's like a little taller than me," I said, unable to hide the excitement. "So, he was behind me in the DJ booth, right. And I was pissed because I hate people in my space like that. He'd like stood on my dress also, which I was double pissed, but trying to keep composure because I was listening for the perfect beat to mix into the song. Anyway, I turned around, and I was tongue-tied. Maybe he'd been hit by a beam of light from the glitterball and highlighted him, but his first words were quiet, but he apologized for standing on me."

"And then you both went into the back room or something and fucked, right?" Hugh said, nodding his head as if willing it into existence.

"No, jeez, then he invited me for a drink, which was non-alcoholic, so I appreciated that, you know, he didn't automatically assume I drank," I said.

"But you do," Cristian said. "In fact, I've seen you single-handedly polish off a bottle of white wine for dinner before, almost like it was a juice box." He giggled.

Hugh joined in the giggling. "Are you talking about that time we went to Ricco Mora's the Italian place to celebrate my small stint on Broadway?"

"Oh, here we go," I laughed. "I don't think anyone is listening to us, let alone scouting in a coffee house." Hugh had a habit of mentioning Broadway and acting as frequently as he could possibly when we were out in public, and the busier the place, the more it was mentioned.

"Well, they stopped me from handing out my headshots with attached resumes on them here," he said. "But continue with your story that doesn't end in sex."

"Yes, yes, my sexless story," I said, dipping a finger into the foamy cappuccino top. "He was there to scout for security blind spots or something, which makes sense, but also, not really cybersecurity, is it?"

Cristian hummed in agreement. "His company website actually mentioned other types of security. You know, his company developed an algorithm that could detect malice on people's faces. Like through micro expressions."

"Firstly, he's mine," I said.

"Actually, you just said your story ends without sex, not even a hand or a little oral," Hugh sighed, standing up and stretching, nearly going into a full ballet tiptoe pose.

"But I think he liked me," I said. "So, yeah, consider him claimed. Anyway, he had this smile that I wanted to get sucked into. And I could feel him want to ask more questions about the dress."

"You can have him," Cristian said. "I think it's a little scary, technology is taking jobs. And don't get me started on design work. My company has lost like a quarter of business because people are just cutting corners with generative bullshit." He got a little red in the face, heated by the topic. It was a sore subject, and I felt the same way about music production.

"I think they're trying to do the same with actors too," Hugh said. "Well, voice actors. I keep seeing these videos of celebrity voice overs that the celebrity didn't even say. It's fucking weird. Ugh. Ok. I've got to get back, but I'll come back over with a muffin you can share soon."

"Oo I'll take a brownie," Cristian said.

"Make that two," I added. "And charge us. If you lose this job, none of us can take you in."

Hugh threw his head back and groaned, mumbling something to himself as he walked back to the other people working behind the counter.

"Could you imagine him being fire?" Cristian let out a squeak. "I mean, his closet alone wouldn't be able to fit anywhere. And you know Jai isn't taking in strays."

"Is that a joke about his cat allergy or Hugh becoming a stray?"

He shrugged. "Didn't he audition for Cats ? So, same thing pretty much."

It was awful, but funny. "Good job he didn't hear that."

"I've already made that joke to him," he said. "Besides, could you imagine if he actually got the job? He'd have been insufferable. I think the universe was blessing us more than anything."

"It's not like he's out of work," I said, looking around.

Hugh had regular theatre work at a local improv group, and once a year for as long as I'd known him, he'd get a role off Broadway in the ensemble for something. It was always a huge deal and we celebrated accordingly.

"So, finish your story," Cristian said. "He was there to do security, but hard to believe a CEO would actually do that hands on type of work. Right."

He was putting words to the thoughts I was scared to say. "It makes me wonder if he's actually successful, which I don't mind if he's not, but it would've been a lot of work and effort to leave breadcrumbs around the internet with his name. Right?"

"And he gives you Daddy vibes, right?"

I took a sip of the cappuccino in front of me. I replayed the moment over and over in my mind, I was beginning to wonder if I was retelling myself different details with each passing. I knew that seemed unlikely because of how fresh it was but there was doubt.

"I think so," I said.

Cristian kicked me under the table. "You need someone to bring you out of that icy shell."

"Princess Valeria is my icy shell," I said. "And happy to serve as my front."

"Princess Valeria needs dick too," he whispered, turning into a giggle.

As we talked and Hugh brought over the brownies, trying to catch up on what we were talking about before being called back to work, something caught the corner of my eye from outside the coffee house window. It was a sparkle, a glitter.

Rain came thundering down just as my eyes and brain caught up with the rest of my body.

"It's him!" I squealed.

A small group of people around us turned to me, all quiet.

"What?" Cristian asked.

"Making a scene," Hugh whispered. "Proud of you."

"Fuck. Oh." My hands were shaky as I clung to the edge of the table. Walking on the other side of the street in the opposite direction on the sidewalk, seemingly embracing the rain, it was him , Everett."It's a sign."

They didn't even need to encourage me. I left my parka on the chair and ran outside. Rain immediately drenching me. I ran to the crossing and was blessed with the bright green man on the pole allowing me passage.

"Everett!" I shouted.

He didn't look.

I'd clearly had too much caffeine to realize this wasn't sane behavior.

Slowly, the man in a suit turned. It was him. It was Everett. He smiled.

Like magnets we were pulled together until meeting on the sidewalk.

"I hope you're not stalking me," he said.

"I—"

"You're getting wet," he said.

My teeth chattered. "Sorry. I—I saw you, and—"

He removed his suit jacket and placed it above his head and covered me. "I'm not sure if I'm hallucinating," he laughed.

"What? Why?"

We moved together in a huddle, his body radiating heat that expelled the caramel cologne on his clothes and skin.

"Because I haven't slept since last night, since I met you," he said.

"I was kinda cold last night, but I was tired and you had stepped on my dress," I said. "I wanted to thank you for the drink, and entertaining me for a little while. I don't usually know if someone is trying to make advances on me, and I'm not even—"

"Can I take you out on a date?" he asked, blurting.

"When?"

"I want to say right now, but I haven't been home, and I still have your glitter on me."

That's what had caught my eye through the window, almost as if a stray ray of light hit the glitter through the gloom, just to reflect and show me where he was. It was the halo light above him all over again. And now, the rain, forcing us to cuddle close, I had to thank mother nature for the blessing.

"I don't have my phone on me," I said. "I ran from that coffee house over there." In the distance, Hugh and Cristian had their faces planted to the window. "But before that, I need to know if you—" Even the speed of light. "Do you know The Playhouse Club?"

He smiled that gorgeous smile. "I'll do you one better. I'm an investor. So, do with that information as you will," he said.

Scrunching my lips together as I held back the pure bliss of his answer, I knew this was something special. "How about I give you my email, and then we can exchange numbers, or you can come back to the coffee house and we can talk?"

"My card," he said. "Put your hand in my suit pocket above."

I reached into his silk lined jacket pocket and pulled out a card stock. Company logo, name and number. "I'll text you, or call you."

"Good. Let me walk you back over," he said. "And then I'll finally head home. I feel like the universe was telling me something when I decided to work my sleep depravation off with a walk."

Under his arm almost, he walked me across the road and back to all the staring faces in the window. Before leaving we stared into each other's eyes.

"I just want you to know that I'm resisting the urge to kiss you," he whispered. "I'm very tired, but I hope you'll accept that admission of my current mental state."

"That'll give you something to look forward to on our date," I said. "Thank you for covering me, Mr. Everett Harper."

"My pleasure, princess."

If all eyes hadn't been on me, I would've been a melted mush. It was a good job I wasn't as dramatic as Hugh, otherwise I'd have been on the ground with each interaction with Everett.