the user || n.h. || a.u.

uno - "Dude why are you so single?"

My body was leaned back against the satin-covered couch in my living room, and it couldn't feel any better.

My friends had begged me to open up my apartment once again (fifth time this week), so we could celebrate my new promotion at my job. Because I dislike any type of celebration, I was forced to comply with their wishes even though I could have rejected their request for admittance.

They were all planted in different spots in the living room; Jennifer, on the floor holding a bag of chips in her hands, Grace, sitting beside me, casually texting on her phone, and Amarie, sitting in the adjacent chair across from me staring at the television screen. This was our usual set up, but no one was celebrating. Wasn't that the whole point of them being here?

"This is definitely a party," I huff, causing all their eyes to stare at me with a bit of confusion plastered on their faces. "You told me to invite you guys over, and nothing is happening,"

Jennifer took it upon herself to wrap up the remaining bag of chips and shift them to the chair behind her before standing up. Her hands snatched away Grace's phone from her grasp, shoving it in her bra with a sneaky, yet witty smile. "Max is right. We aren't even doing anything,"

Grace continued to whine, begging for phone back to finish her last message. "I promise I will put it away!"

"No, Grace. We need to show Max a good time! She is the chief editor of Haute Mode now,"

Not bothering to finish her sentence, Grace closed her open mouth and sat back against the chair, peering up at me with a warming chuckle. "Sorry, Max. This party does suck though, big time,"

"Who is going to get the party started this time? Last time Amarie hosted, we all came back tore up drunk," Grace hissed, remembering as she crossed her arms firmly across her chest.

"Hey. We weren't tore up drunk," Grace chuckled at Amarie's response then leaned her head in my lap to cushion herself. "You just can't handle your liquor."

"Max didn't even have fun that time,"

Jennifer wasn't actually lying. I only had one drink, and didn't dance at all. The crowded club wasn't my thing; the close proximity of other people's sweaty bodies? No, thank you. I would rather sit at home, and watch The Office marathons. "Yeah, we aren't going to the club anymore."

"Okay, let's think," The room grew quiet, while everyone thought about something to do. At the moment, that marathon was sounding better than I thought.

"I got it! How about we just ask Max?" Amarie snarled, throwing up her thumbs with a sarcastic, brittle grin. "This is her celebration after all,"

"Well, Max. What do you want to do?" Everyone's eyes, including Grace's, burned into my skin like lasers. Should I tell them that all I wanted was the marathon, or should I ask them to go out?

"You want to watch the marathon don't you?" Jennifer. Stop doing that. Reading my mind like you have some mystical power. "We can do that, Max."

"I actually like The Office," Grace sat up from my lap, grabbing the remote with a light groan. "Jim is my spirit animal."

Gosh, I love my friends. They just push their wants aside, and put me ahead of themselves. They are truly awesome.

My group of friends was completely set a year ago, when I stepped into the Andy's Coffee after the first day of my job at Haute Mode. I was a freshly admitted into the staff, and I was dead tired. My former boss, Scarlett, ordered me to make copies, file and organize any fashion albums that were misplaced. These had nothing to do with the idea I had for this job. But after doing everything she asked me, I made it out at 5 o'clock, ready to head back home.

I stepped into the coffee shop, smelling the infectious scent of coffee beans sweetly. "It smells so good in here,"

"Well, not exactly if you have been here since 9 a.m. this morning," A tall girl draped in a burgundy apron and ripped blue jean at the start and finish of her knees. Her wavy brown hair cascaded to her collarbone, only to make me distracted by the blue eyes staring holes into my face. "Well, away from my complaining, what can I help you with?"

I checked out the menu catching 'Blonde Roast' then it's description; Slightly roasted coffee beans that are heated to make mellow, yet flavorful coffee. Can be paired with vanilla, caramel or hazelnut.

Sounds good. Guess, I'll get that. After telling the girl what I wanted to order, she wiggled her name tag at me. "Name's Grace. You don't have to call me girl," Her face relaxed, releasing her fingers from her chest.

"I'm sorry about that," I really wasn't. "Grace it is,"

"May I ask what's your name?" She fixed my coffee, facing away from me. Her hand tilted the lever of the machine, warm coffee slithered into the cup carefully. "You don't have to tell me."

"It's Maxine,"

"Max it is,"

"What?"

"I am calling you Max now. Do you come here often?" She slipped a cap from the high shelf and pushed it down on my coffee cup carefully not to spill. "I haven't seen you around before."

"I don't come here often, and don't call me Max," I shook my head, not agreeing with the boyish name she had given me within the five seconds of me knowing her. "I would prefer Maxine if need be."

"Well, okay. Here's your blonde roast. That'll be 5.45,"

I gave her the approximate change, but it didn't stop there. She continued to call Max, talk to me when I didn't want to, and wouldn't leave me alone. Even though I found it annoying, she was a good listener, and it stayed that way. That coffee incident led to us becoming best friends in a year, and I'm glad it happened.

We were ten episodes deep, and everyone was on the verge of closing their eyes and crossing over to the dream side. My eyes barely glued to the television as Grace wouldn't stop leaning her head into my neck. Her hair was tickling me, and it was beyond irritating.

"Hey, Max. Isn't that you on tv?" Jennifer turned the volume louder, trying to scoot closer to the tv. Amarie wiped the drool from her face, sitting up slowly in my crimson red recliner. "Oh my gosh, it is!"

The reporter showed several pictures of me, one over another. Each picture displayed how 'lonely' I was. Whatever.

"Is Maxine DeRosa, the attractive and newly admitted chief editor of Haute Mode, single or just not interested in guys? Sources say she was seen with several girls all over the city!"

"What the heck?" I stood up, frozen in shock and anger that they would think that I am homosexual! "Just because I was seen with friends, I am gay?!"

"Max, you aren't gay, don't worry about it," Jennifer grabbed the brim of my shoulders and peered into my eyes. "But what is taking you so long?"

"For what?"

"To find a boyfriend? You have been single since college," She blinked her eyes quickly, then released her grip. "You need to experience the world,"

"Jenn's right," Grace pushed back her wavy hair, pushing off her covers. "Dude, why are you so single?"

Single? I wasn't sure. I just never tried to reach for that because I was so swamped by work, trying to become editor. I just lost sight of how alone I really was.

"You need to go on a date," Amarie suggested. "You aren't getting any younger,"

"Don't act like we are that far apart!"

"Even so, you act like you are 35. Let loose!"

As Grace, Jennifer and Amarie, danced around me, I began to question my reasoning why I really was dateless.

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Chapter 1. Hope you like!
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