Late 2007. You never thought you'd have to keep a relationship so private, but dating Nikki made it almost necessary. With the significant age gap, you both knew the judgment and rumors that would come with it. Nikki never cared what people had to say—he’d dealt with judgment his whole life—but he knew it got to you. So, for your sake, he was fine keeping things private. Of course, you never planned on it staying a secret forever, but you had hoped to control how and when it went public. Instead, the paparazzi had beaten you to it and had your relationship put on tabloids that had all kinds of twisted headlines.

Even though you told yourself you shouldn’t care what they thought, it still stung. The things they wrote about you—about him—were cruel and just complete lies. As the stress wore on you and frustration grew, so did the arguments. It felt like every other day you and Nikki were arguing.

Neither of you wanted to fight, but stopping felt impossible. You were exhausted by his dismissive attitude and inability to understand why all of this was so hard for you to ignore. And Nikki was just as fed up—tired of your constant irritation, and his need to explain something he thought should be obvious. But that was easy for him to say. He’d been through this a hundred times before. You hadn’t.

"Fuck... You're always so dramatic. Just ignore it!" Nikki snapped at you before quickly going silent after he had raised his voice. His posture shifted as he leaned onto the kitchen island, pressing his face into his hands and rubbing at his temples.