A Game of Princes

What if life was just a game, and I had been playing it all wrong?

The thought refused to leave me alone, clinging to the edges of my mind like an annoying song stuck on repeat. No matter how much I tried to push it away, it lingered, a quiet, nagging presence reminding me that maybe, just maybe-I had been doing this all wrong.

Even now, as I dropped my keys onto the counter, the metallic clink echoed through my tiny apartment like a taunt. The rain tapped against the windows, a soft, rhythmic sound that should've been comforting. Instead, it just made everything feel heavier, like the universe itself was pressing down on me, whispering, Is this really it?

I sighed, pulling off my jacket and tossing it over the back of a chair like I did every night. A predictable routine, a well rehearsed script I couldn't seem to escape. With a groan, I kicked off my shoes, not caring where they landed. One hit the wall with a dull thud, the other skidded across the floor and disappeared under the couch. Perfect. Too exhausted to care, I made a mental note to fish it out later even though I knew I probably wouldn't.

My feet dragged toward the kitchen, where I pulled open the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, twisting the cap with a tired exhale.

Today had been the same as every other, answering calls, forwarding emails, pretending to care about things that didn't matter. Another day of putting out fires that never should have started, juggling requests that made me question whether people had basic common sense. Being a receptionist wasn't the worst job in the world, but it sure as hell wasn't the best either.

My job as a receptionist at a local marketing agency was fine-nothing spectacular, nothing that made me feel like I was living my best life, but it did the job. It paid the bills just enough to keep me alive, keep a roof over my head, and allow me to survive as a human being. That was what mattered, right?

I could only imagine what would happen if some emergency popped up, one that would force me to make a huge deposit. Where the hell would I even get that from? The question lingered, unanswered, as I stared blankly at the bottle of water in my hand.

Well, at least I had Ryan, right? Not that he was good for anything practical, like actual financial support. He couldn't even handle his own bills without scrambling, but hey, he was there. That had to count for something, didn't it?

I sank into the couch, mindlessly scrolling through my phone, the soft glow lighting up my face. The apartment was quiet, peaceful, even-and it was all mine. A tiny, cozy space where I could escape from the chaos of the world outside. But sometimes, that stillness felt a little too suffocating, like a constant reminder that I wasn't moving forward.

I thought about it a lot-doing something more, having a career that wasn't just "fine" but exciting, something that made me feel alive. It was an itch I couldn't scratch, a nagging thought I couldn't shake. But making that leap? That was the tricky part. Where would I even start?

As if the universe had heard my thoughts, my phone buzzed, cutting through the silence and my thoughts. Ryan's name flashed on the screen. I rolled my eyes before picking it up. It wasn't that I didn't care about him. I did, in a way, but I knew this conversation wasn't going to be serious. It never was.

"Yo, where have you been?" Ryan's voice had that usual playful, teasing tone, like he was just waiting to catch me off guard. "You do know I miss you, right?"

I couldn't help but smirk. "What do you mean you miss me? You were just here four nights ago, moaning like a bitch," I shot back, leaning against the couch, fully prepared for whatever nonsense he was about to throw my way.

Ryan burst into laughter, the sound loud enough to almost make me wince. "Yo, yo, yo-that's toxic as hell. Don't act like you weren't moaning like I was about to ruin your life."

I groaned, rubbing my eyes. "Why are you calling me, Ryan? I swear, you always manage to pop up at the most inconvenient times."

"I'm your boyfriend, Haylee. Is it a crime to check in?" His voice was all mock offense, like he actually believed he was being sweet or thoughtful.

I scoffed. "Boyfriend is a strong word, don't you think?"

He chuckled on the other end. "Damn, that's cold. That's what I get for caring, huh?"

I sighed, rubbing my forehead. The conversation was already giving me a headache. "Look, I've got a lot on my mind. If you're calling just to mess around, I'm really not in the mood."

Ryan fell silent for a moment, and I could feel the shift in the air between us. It was subtle, but it was there. His voice, when it finally came back, had lost the usual teasing edge.

"Alright, fine. I actually called for something real this time," he said, the words now tinged with something that sounded like genuine interest.

I raised an eyebrow. "That's new," I muttered, with my curiosity piqued.