While I was lost in thought, I got a call from my best friend, Alice Whitmore. I answered:
— "What's up, Liz? What's with the sudden call?"
Alice: "Hi, Brian. Thanks for asking—idiot."
(I laughed at her sarcastic tone. She hadn't changed a bit, and honestly, I didn't want her to. Alice had always been straightforward—no sugarcoating, no filters. That's what I liked most about her.)
— "Come on, stop messing around. What's up?"
Alice: "I'm at the Palace Restaurant with Marcus. You coming?"
(I paused for a moment. The Palace was one of those fancy places where I never felt comfortable. But if Alice called, I couldn't say no. Besides, with Marcus involved, things always got interesting… even if I ended up with a headache.)
— "Yeah, sure. I'm on my way."
I quickly headed to my car and made my way downtown to the Palace. When I arrived, I parked right out front and went in.
(As I walked toward the entrance, I felt a light pressure on my shoulders. Something inside me whispered to stay alert—especially with Marcus around. He always found a way to challenge my decisions.)
There they were, sitting at a table for four—Alice Whitmore, my best friend since kindergarten, with her chestnut hair, slender figure, and those striking blue eyes… and Marcus Peperman, my best friend since high school, with his athletic build and that ever-chill vibe.
I walked up to them with a sarcastic grin.
— "Hey, my loyal minions! Miss me?"
Alice: "Who would miss someone as dumb as you?"
Marcus: "What's up, idiot? Why don't you go out anymore? You're always buried in that stupid game stuff. Did you forget you have an actual life?"
(Marcus had this gift of making me feel guilty without even trying. But today, I wasn't in the mood for that. I let it slide.)
— "Well, about that… I've been prepping for this huge game that's about to drop."
Marcus: "Let's do a quick recap of your life… You're the third son of the Dreifus family, you're dating the famous Lilian Rhymes, you've got Alice as your awesome best friend… and yet you're throwing all that aside for a damn video game?"
(I stayed quiet. Everything Marcus said was true. But I had my reasons, even if they weren't easy to explain.)
— "This could be the game of the century. If I can get good at it, I could impress Lilian and maybe win back all the money I've lost over the years..."
Alice: "Right, I've been hearing a lot about that game lately… what's it called again?"
Marcus: "I think it's… World Kings?"
— "No, no… It's War of Kingdoms. It's been hyped for months."
Alice: "Sighs You talk like you've been waiting for it forever. If it weren't for Lilian, you wouldn't even care."
— "You're right."
Marcus: "Hey, what happened to your stupid 'Man's Rulebook' thing?"
(That hit a nerve. Marcus mentioning my book brought back something I'd pushed aside. My whole idea of writing the 'Unwritten Laws of Men' was still there in my head—but deep down, I knew it was more of a distraction than a real plan.)
— "It's not the 'rulebook of men.' It's The Unwritten Laws of Men. And trust me, it's gonna make me millions. (This is my grandfather Brandom's legacy.)"
Marcus: "Oh yeah. That moral code of manly rules we all know but conveniently ignore..."
Alice: "Leave him alone. Those are his codes and ideals. We all know Brian's been weird since forever… But at least he's always been honest about what he thinks."
Marcus: "Alright, alright, I'll drop it. Speaking of dropping things—where's Lilian?"
— "She's at her place."
Marcus: "Hmm… this get-together just got boring."
(I knew Marcus said it half-joking, but he always found a way to sneak in criticism. It didn't bother me, though. Deep down, he knew me better than anyone.)
— "Next time, I'll bring her along." (I hoped my gut was wrong, I thought, watching Marcus pull that uncomfortable face.)
Marcus: "You better."
Alice: "Hey, Lilian told me that game's gonna be amazing."
— "Yeah, from what I've researched, it might be the best VR game ever made."
Alice: "You seem way too excited about this."
— "Honestly, I want to play it with you, Liz… and with Lilian too."
Alice: "Stop calling me Liz. We're not in kindergarten anymore."
— "You'll always be Liz to me. My first friend."
(I saw her blush for a second, but she quickly hid it with a shy smile.)
Marcus: "If you two are gonna flirt, do it when I'm not here."
Alice: "W-who's flirting?"
Marcus: "Anyway… I've got stuff to do. I'm out."
(The mood shifted a little once Marcus stood up. He knew Alice and I needed space, and his exit gave us just that.)
So Marcus left, leaving Alice and me alone. The silence stretched between us, but she broke it first.
Alice: "I-I should get going too."
— "Want me to drive you?"
Alice: "N-no need. Someone's coming to pick me up."
(She stood up, and her face showed a mix of discomfort… and something else. Something I couldn't quite place at the time, but it left a tight knot in my stomach. Why did I get the feeling this conversation was about to change something between us?)
Liz stepped away from the table, but I quickly stopped her.
— "Liz, wait! I'm serious. I really want to play with you again. Like old times."
(I saw her eyes sparkle for just a second, like those words really meant something to her. And though we didn't say it out loud… we both knew something was shifting.)
She looked down again, hiding her face, and said softly:
Alice: "I'd love that too."
— "Then… promise you'll play this game with me?"
Alice: "Okay, fine… I-I promise."
(At that moment, it felt like something deeper than just a game promise had been made. Something new. Unexpected. But surprisingly comforting.)
I held out my pinky toward her with a playful smile.
— "Pinky promise, best friend style?"
Alice: "Brian, seriously? Are you six? People are watching us!"
— "I don't care. Let them watch. If I'm with you, I can be myself."
(The touch of our fingers, sealing that promise, meant more than I dared to admit. And for a brief second, it felt like the pieces of my life were starting to fall back into place.)
In the end, she said goodbye and walked away. But something in her departure felt… different. Like the words we didn't say were still hovering in the air—waiting to be discovered.