His Games, Her Rules

My parents are ballers. Back at home, my family and I were always storming parties. Parties that shake the city. Parties where billionaires are present. The minute I came here, I tried to stay away from parties like that so I wouldn’t accidentally bump into a colleague of my parents or an acquaintance. Monique and I frequently visited clubs on the weekend to burn away some steam and stress from our jobs, and on some other weekends, we would drive outside the city sightseeing.

Tonight is something different and a part of me is telling me I would regret it.

Monique and I first met three weeks after I got my apartment, this apartment. It wasn’t luxurious but it fitted my new identity. It had everything I wanted and it was just perfect. I wanted a roommate, someone I could trust. I had put up several ads online looking for a roommate and I got a few. I didn’t like any of them.

Then one morning when I went outside for a run, and I stopped by a cafe to grab coffee, that was when I met Monique. It was clear like it happened yesterday. Monique was sitting close to the translucent window as she toyed with her cup of coffee while constantly staring outside. Her braids were in a bun and her skin was like chocolate, brown, and rich. Instantly, I knew we were going to be best friends.

I walked up to her table and asked if I could sit. She didn’t mind. There was a big luggage bag next to her and it looked as if she was on tour. We’d talked and I asked her about her bag, joking about her being a tourist, but she laughed and said she just got into town and she was in desperate need of an apartment. And just like that, I offered her to stay and not pay half the rent. Monique insisted but I didn’t let her.

Later she told me she was into modeling and she moved to New York to secure better gigs. Monique started small, begging to be featured even if it was for free. But now, she’s the model behind top brands in the city and there are billboards of her in every corner of the city. I’ve never been this proud of someone else’s achievement before. Monique is beautiful, a bit taller than me by three or four inches, compared to my 5’6 frame. Her skin, unlike my olive skin, is a beautiful brown. She’s slender, with little curves in the right places and long-toned legs. Compared to my size 8 body, I have more curves than Monique. Monique and I may come from different backgrounds, but we share similar interests.

And storming high-end parties isn’t part of that similar interest.

“What are we gonna wear?” I ask Monique, pulling out my phone to order pizza.

“Yeah, about that. We have to look like we belong.”

“Yeah, well, there are a few dresses in my closet that I haven’t worn since I got them. I could pick one from the flock.” I flash Monique a smile as I walk out of the kitchen, with Monique on my tail.

“Yeah. I could check my closet for a dress. I’m sure there’s something to wear in there.”

I pause to look at her. “You’re serious?” I smile and shake my head.

“What?” Monique asks, throwing her hands in the air exaggeratedly.

“If you don’t mind me asking. What are the kind of people that are gonna be there?”

“Billionaires, millionaires, maybe a few actresses, and businessmen. You know what I mean.” Monique wraps her slender arm around my shoulder. “You’re gonna like it. And if you don’t, we are gonna leave there immediately. I promise.”

“Great. And just so you know, I don’t have a problem with parties like these like you like to put it. I just don’t like being in the same room as these rich assholes who feel like they control the world and everything in it.”

Monique drops her arm. “In a way rich people actually control the world.”Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“God, I fucking hate you.” I groan, heading toward my bedroom as Monique follows, chuckling.

“And if we get lucky, we might actually get some tonight,” Monique says. That stops me right on track.

“What are we getting, Monique?” I ask, crossing my arms as I give her a judgemental look.

“Robyn, you know what I mean.” She smirks.

“I’m not hooking up with a stranger.”

“Who says anything about hooking up? You’re not a baby, Robyn. And in case you’ve forgotten we’re both fucking single.”

“For me, it’s by choice.” And that’s true.

“That’s not the point. That coochie needs some. You’re starving it.”

“Ew. Who still says coochie, by the way?” I ask, chuckling. Monique smiles.

“Robyn, you need a man,” Monique says, her arms crossed as she stares at me like my mom would every time I’d fuck shit up.

“Monique, I don’t need a man. Why does everybody think I need a man?”

“Have you maybe sat down for a second and thought about why everyone thinks you need a man?”

I scoff and shake my head. I fucking hate this conversation and where it’s going.

“You don’t even have a man, Monique. You’re single, just like me.”

“Mine is not by choice. You know I’ve dated a few men…”

“And things turned pretty ugly the minute you started dating.”

“Stop being judgemental.”

“I’m not. I just want you to know that I don’t need a man. I’m happy the way I am.” I glare at her and continue my journey down the hall.

“You’re not dodging this conversation,” Monique says as I unlock my bedroom door and step in.

“Well, you’re wrong. I am.” I say and shut the door in her face.

Fuck.

“I hear you use your vibrator at night. You should get someone, even if it’s a side-piece.” Monique says from the other side of my bedroom door, chuckling.

I gasp. “Fuck you, Monique Palmer! And stay out of my shit.” I groan.

God, I hate it when she’s right. I’ve only dated one man since I moved to New York. His name was Damien. We dated for a year until I cut things off. He didn’t cheat, in fact, he was too loyal. I was always absent in our relationship because I was trying to graduate nursing school with good grades and I was always in my head. He was patient, and he tried to fix it even when I got a job at St. Jose.

I got bored. I wasn’t feeling it and I felt like Damien was too basic. He was too sweet for me and I knew in the end I was going to hurt him. So I had to tell him we needed to stop seeing each other. He didn’t try to inquire why I was breaking up with him, it was as if he knew I was going to break things off sooner than he wished. Damien had smiled at me after I gave him the news as he walked away.

I haven’t seen Damien ever since that fateful day.

I wasn’t a big fan of hooking up with different men because I wanted to get off. I could always get pleasure without seeking men. Monique thinks a woman should always seek pleasure from men now and then. But I think otherwise. And ever since I broke things off with Damien, I haven’t bothered to date anyone. I have hooked up with a few men and that was a year and a half ago and since then I haven’t been with a man. Men have asked me out on several occasions and even at my workplace but I’m not interested.

Relationships are overrated anyway. There’s always so much commitment that I’m not prepared for. After what happened back in Italy, I am not ready to risk getting into a serious relationship with anyone. Not now, not anytime soon.