"Fuck, why did you tell him to come?" I ask as I watch your boyfriend walk through the studio door with a smile on his face. "I thought you two were mad at each other, again."

It's no surprise that I hate your boyfriend with all my might; it's been a regular occurrence for a long time. So you're not even bothered by my question.

"Because he's my boyfriend and because he brings me food." You drop your songbook onto the table. "And yes, we were mad, but we've talked it over."

"Oh, he promised to watch a romantic movie with you again if you forgave him, and you nodded like an idiot?" I already know the answer. You confirm it when you lightly punch me in the arm. "Fuck, you're so mature."

You've been dating for about two years, but I think it's been about seven months between onsets and onsets. He's by far the worst boyfriend in the world. He's toxic, careless, and talks to other women behind your back—he's everything wrong with this world. But you always end up going back to him. Damn, the bastard must have something big going on.

You and I have been best friends since we joined the band, so I've been aware of your relationship with that jerk since day one. I even got along with him at first! But now it's impossible. Every time he opens his mouth, he blurts out something stupid. Now I just have to pretend to like him. Or at least try.

He enters the meeting room where we're sitting and approaches you for a kiss. I have to look away so I don't throw up.

"I brought you a nut salad," he says with a smile, and my head whips around at lightning speed, because I want to see your face right then, and sure enough, you're making a face of disgust. “Everything okay?”

"She doesn't like that," I say before you can say anything.

"What do you mean?" the idiot asks, frowning.

"She's allergic to nuts," I say, and there he is, his face changing into complete horror, he knows he's done it wrong, again.