Craving: A Kylo Ren Tale

Four

"You have to accept!" Rose is ecstatic.

I'm not so sure though. Going after legit restaurant jobs should be my number one priority right now. I didn't ace my way through culinary school just to make some douchebag artist food he won't even eat.

But, on the other hand...

Living in a building like his is something out of a dream. A view of Central Park? Insane. And the salary is almost triple what I've been making in Philadelphia. Plus I wouldn't have rent or utility bills, so I'd be able to really start saving money. And working for a man that wealthy almost certainly guarantees meeting people with connections. This could be my foot in the door of the higher class culinary world.

But god damn, Kylo Ren is such a dick. Is he worth it?

Do I sell my soul to work for the devil?

"I don't know, Rose... You didn't meet the man. He's absolutely terrible. He was so fucking rude, staring at me like that and then barely even acknowledging my existence. I can't imagine what it would be like dealing with him all the time. Living with him! No wonder they've gone through so many employees, he's a total nightmare."

"You're going to pass on a PENTHOUSE APARTMENT off of CENTRAL PARK and a salary THAT YOU'VE NEVER DREAMED OF because you're scared of a MAN?! I know you better than this! Men aren't shit. You can handle whatever he throws your way, I know it."

Rose beams at me with that sweet face and I know she means it.

I wish I had that much confidence in the situation, but a part of me knows she's right. I can do this.

"Okay. Fuck, okay. I'm doing it. I'll email Phasma and accept the offer. This is insane."

After typing out a formal acceptance stating that I'd be pleased to start on December 1st, Rose takes me out for celebratory drinks with the guys. We make our way to our favorite queer bar and spend the night drinking and dancing.

Rose is pretty straight, and Finn and Poe have been seriously dating for a while now, so I'm the only one really scanning the crowd for contenders. I don't see any of my type when it comes to women or androgynous folk; and know that I won't find my type of man in this bar either.

"Don't worry about it," says a sloppy Poe in my ear. "Soon you'll be getting laid every night in New Yooooork!" He sings the last part of the sentence. "You'll have millions of men, women, and enbies to choose from. Now let's drink to that!"

They all take turns buying me rounds and we cheers to the adventures we'll have in a new city when they all come to visit. Soon I don't care about getting laid anymore, I focus on my friends. It's going to be so hard to not see these people every day or even week, and I'm nervous about the new job being too consuming to make new acquaintances.

I savor this night, and my perfect little friend group.

The rest of November goes by in a blur.

Rose and I pack up the apartment, and it's hard to box up our memories. There are just so many, big and small. We've been here for almost 4 years.

I think back on our time together.

She saw me through a really nasty breakup with my last serious girlfriend, and the petty fights with a few boyfriends. She ate all of my test dishes when I was working my way through culinary school. She helped me write silly notes on the walls and then we hid them under wallpaper for someone to find in the future. She held back my hair when we partied too hard. She listened with an open mind when I read her my poetry. She just... made my days brighter.