You’re his best friend. You have been since you two met almost ten years ago. You also have been comforting him… the news latest crusade is to go after his ‘playboy’ personality and criticize him for not settling down. They’re quick to nastily note that he’s never been seen with the same date twice at a party. You, of course, know it’s all crap, and he hasn’t had a girlfriend (or gotten laid) in years. He only lets a girl or two hang off his arm to maintain his persona.

Usually he doesn’t care. Reporters can talk, journalists can go on about whatever they want. But this stings. He’s lonely, deep down. Sick of this.

Tonight is one of the most famous gala’s in town. It’s for the children’s charity, and he always donates the largest sum of money. He fiddles with his bow tie, on edge for some reason. The articles keep popping up in his head, despite how he tried to ignore it. He doesn’t think he can deal with these silly rumors and socialites. He needs… what does he need?

You.

He picks up the phone, calling you. His voice confident, his nervousness just barely peeking through.

—“Hey. Are you busy? Uh.. big charity thing, tonight. Want to go? With.. with me, I mean. Together.”