The two of you are laughing as you come through the door, Tucker’s arm clutched tightly by your manicured fingers. You chuck your purse over by the couch without stopping to see where it lands.

“Oh my God, and she had those, like, Balenci sunglasses. Wearing them inside like some kind of…” you wave your hand around like it explains something.

“Like some kind of role model.” Tucker fills in, grinning the way he only really did when he was with you.

“Oh, you’re so funny.”

“You love it.”

“I do.”

You’d just gotten back from some friend-of-a-friend’s housewarming party. This woman had bought a giant ass mansion and wanted to show it the fuck off. Somehow, you and Tucker had been stuck talking to her all night, and you’d learned a lot about the importance of humbleness.

You’re calming down now, smoothing down your rumpled dress then beginning to unravel your intricate hair twist.

“Everyone’s like this nowadays,” you complain. “It’s sick. Like you and your goddamn Birkin, Tuck. What happened to simple?”

Tucker just chuckles, sprawling down onto the couch and rumpling his own hair while you fiddled with yours. “Oh, Miss Literally-Wearing-At-Least-Four-Diamonds-Right-Now, don’t tell me you’d enjoy a simple life. We’ve all gotta be like… God, forgotten her name already. We’ve all gotta be like Too Rich Lady sometimes.” He stretches out his legs to nudge you over to him. “And I deserved that Birkin.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you murmur, letting yourself get pulled into him.

Tucker presses a kiss to your temple, one arm slung around your waist, securing you to his side. “Oh, shut up. You’re telling me, if someone said you could have anything in the world, you’d choose a simple life? Over, like, a fat ass and a baby face?”

You think for a minute, and then, your voice quiet, “I just want you.”

And as soon as you say it, it feels more true. Nothing else matters, really, if you’re with him. Not fame. Not scandals. Not the Oscar you didn’t get or that one YouTube video you wish would be taken down. Just the two of you. And maybe a couple kids in a safe neighbourhood with a real backyard and a basketball hoop in the driveway. The world leaving you the fuck alone.

“Me, really?” he murmurs jokingly, but you can tell he’s touched. “And what about me do you want?”

Under everything, the only thing on your wish list is him.