Taming The Playboy

Felix has his music on full blast, so I wake up to this scene of my teenage brother's room. I roll my eyes, throw the worn quilt off, and get up.

You know that saying goes, another day, another dollar,

We live in a tiny bedroom apartment where we hoarded cheap furniture and the stench of miГє noodles is always around.

But it's home, and it's where I have been holding it all together with Felix since we lost Mom and Dad in that stupid car accident.

I slide into the kitchen, the linoleum hard beneath my feet.

And there's Felix somehow, already, lapping up his cereal like it's the last supper, eyes glued to his phone.

'Mornin', Junebug,' he says, mouth full of soggy flakes.

I grunt in response, too tired to smile or even feign comfort.

"What's with the long face?" Huh? he says, finally tearing his face from his phone, long enough to look at me with a bewildered expression.

I roll my eyes and have to fight the urge to bark back at him. "Nothing, Felix. Just tired, that's all."

He arches an eyebrow, obviously doubtful. "Uh-huh, sure. 'Maybe if you came out, every once in a while, and did something besides work and read those horrible books of yours, you wouldn't be such a bore.

I can feel my blood hot at his words, the old prickling of resentment rising up inside me. Why does he have to be such a d*ck all the time?

"Excuse me? It's too early for this, please." I snap, my voice dripping with sarcasm. 'The last time I looked, it's not your d*mn business what I do in my spare time,' wrote one.

Felix shrugs, unfazed by my outburst. "I'm just saying, maybe if you put yourself out there once in a while, you might actually meet someone who's not a total loser.

My fists ball up, and I fight to keep myself from punching him in the face. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

He smirks, clearly enjoying getting a rise out of me. "Oh, come on, June. You're getting old and you've never had a boyfriend since... What's his name? Tom? It's been ages since you two broke up? Don't you think it's time to have another man?"

His remarks are crushing me like a ton of bricks, and I can feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment. He is not hesitant to use his understanding of how to make me feel uncomfortable against me."Shut up, Felix, I respond, trying desperately to sound irritated while a smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. "Just so you know, those "cringe novels" are how I get away from this awful world."More often than not, we've been at each other's throats lately, and I sense that there's another argument bubbling beneath the surface.

But even though we argue all the time, we have a deeper connection than just words.All I have left of our family is Felix, who is sixteen years old, and I will not allow anything to separate us.I gaze at Felix as I pour warm coffee into my cup.I can't help but be thankful for him even if he has the tendency to irritate me and drive me crazy.He's growing so quickly that I occasionally forget he's still a young child attempting to make sense of this chaotic world.

I sigh and slump into my chair, preparing for yet another day of whatever life has in store for us all.

I pick up a piece of toast and drop it into the toaster, while trying to dismiss Felix's annoying hum, as he sucks down his cereal. For crying out loud, does he have to be so loud this early in the morning.

"Hey, June, you mind picking up some more milk on your way home from work today? Felix asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I frown at him because I'm getting impatient. "And you're just going to sit there and stuff your face while playing video games all day?"Felix rolls his eyes despite my annoyance. "Hey, somebody has to keep this place from collapsing. You're too busy working hard to notice, and that's not my fault."

His remark pricks me, that old familiar pain of envy rising up again. He knows I'd do anything for him, but sometimes it feels like he's just taking advantage of me.

'Yeah, well, what if you contributed every now and then, maybe we wouldn't be living from cheque to cheque,' I retort, boiling over with frustration.

Felix scoffs, his tone mocking. "Oh, please. Like you're some kind of saint, working yourself to the bone while I sit around doing nothing.

I open my mouth to respond, but before I can say anything, the toaster pops, startling us both. I snatch the burnt toast with a huff and deposit it on a plate, my appetite having flown long ago.

We sit in silence, the tension between us, like a fog. I can sense Felix's eyes on me, waiting for me to reconcile, but I'm not backing down this time.

Like, we've had this fight a thousand times before and I'm sick of playing the 'everything is fine' game when it really isn't.

Finally, Felix sighs, breaking the silence. "Look, June, I didn't mean it like that. I know you're doing your best, okay?"

I sigh, too exhausted to keep up the fight. "Yeah, well, it's not good enough, is it?"

Felix leans forward to touch my arm, and his face loosens. "Hey, don't say that. We're in this together, remember?"

I nod, a little ashamed of the way I snapped at him. He may drive me crazy sometimes, but he's still my little brother, and I'd do anything to protect him.

With a resigned sigh, I force a smile and ruffle his hair. "Yeah, you're right. We'll figure it out, somehow."

Felix smiles at me, the awkwardness between us evaporating in the breeze. "That's the spirit. Now, are you gonna eat that burnt toast, or can I have it?

I roll my eyes, but I can't help laughing. Maybe things aren't so bad after all.

I collapse on my bed like a sack of potatoes. Felix's whining is repeating in my head like a broken record. Am I really pulling my weight? Or am I just kidding myself?

Seeking an escape, I grab the dusty photo album on my bedside table.The happy smiles of my parents are staring back at me as I turn the pages.Before I realize it, tears are pouring from my eyes as my throat becomes choked.What a mess-I just used the back of my hand to wipe my eyes. Nothing will make Mom and Dad return, no matter how much i wish.Now, Felix and I are up against the world, and sometimes it feels like we're losing.

I push the album back into its hole, burying my sorrow with it.

I walk slowly along the sidewalk, the weight of the world, or at least, the weight of these d*mn binders, pressing down on my shoulders.

Why did I volunteer to lug all this paperwork home again? Oh right, because my boss thinks I'm some kind of workaholic superhero who can't say no to a few extra files.

My gut clenched with fear, I look up ahead at the tall office building.

You know, another day, another dollar. These days, though, it feels more like just another day with a pile of paperwork that is just waiting to kill me.

Seriously, why are these doors so freaking heavy? Did they hire the Hulk as their doorman or something? "How am I going to pass through with these heavy binders," I said to my myself.

Suddenly, a tall, tanned, and incredibly attractive man walks up to me.

It felt like heavens had sent him my way.

And, as luck would have it, we both reach for the door simultaneously. I think I might as well take advantage of the circumstance, right?

So, I give it my best sprinter's start and dart ahead, thinking I've won the race.

But oh no, not so fast, June.

Mr. Hottie has other plans. With a sassy smile that could melt icebergs, he decides to play a little game of door tag.

He lets go of the handle just as I'm about to pass through, and BAM! The door slams right into my shoulder, sending my binders flying everywhere.

Seriously, dude? What's your problem?

What's wrong with you?

I turn around, prepared to lash out at this person. "Hey, be careful where you go, you..."

But, before I can fully express my justified rage, I see his incredibly attractive face, and everything I was about to say vanished.

He had defined cheekbones, titan shoulders and sea-rover-blue eyes.

So, besides being angry, I'm also at a loss for words. Exactly what I needed.

His smirk showed that he was clearly enjoying the show. With a deep, sarcastic voice, he says, "Oops, my bad."

"I didn't notice you there. I suppose next time, I'll need take more caution."

No way, no way. This person didn't simply give me the typical "I didn't see you" trick.

With all the confidence I have left, I square my shoulders.

I say, "Listen here, mister," in a poisonous tone. "I'm not sure who you think you are, but, You can't just go around slamming doors into people's shoulders and..." .But he interrupts me with a laugh and a mock amused eyebrow raise. "Whoa, you're a feisty one, aren't you? That's hot!"

He keeps smirking at me, his eyes shining with mischief, and I can feel my blood boiling with rage.

He must be quite gorgeous, but why? I feel as though the universe is cruelly mocking me.

But I'm not going to give up. Never, ever. Dammit, even though I'm small, I'm fierce.And this person is in for another surprise if he believes he can mistreat me and get away with it.As my annoyance with Mr. Hotshot reaches a boiling pitch, I narrow my eyes. I stab him with a finger and yell, "Listen here, kid."

"You can't just act like a complete idiot and expect me to just stand here and take it; I don't know who you think you are."His smirk wavers a bit as he lifts an eyebrow. "I just wanted to enjoy myself a little. There's no reason to get all up over it. By the way you got an insane body, but in a grandma outfit? That's laughable." He laughs, his tone mocking.

"Stop talking about my body like that! You Perv!"

I retort, my voice dripping with anger. "Please pardon me for not finding your little game of sexual innuendos and door-slamming really funny. Breaking news, friend: it's not amusing, it's not cute, and it's definitely not welcome."

Clearly unfazed by my fury, he laughs. His eyes light up with laughter as he remarks, "Whoa, someone's got a chip on their shoulder. Sweetheart, light up. We shouldn't take things too seriously since life is too short."

His disrespectful tone just serves to stoke my hatred, which is already boiling in my veins. With a sarcastic tone, I respond, "Oh, I'm sorry. I had no idea you were in charge of determining how I should spend my life. I must have been foolish and failed to ask you before deciding to exist."

He opens his mouth to reply, but I don't give him the chance. I've had enough of this guy and his arrogant attitude.

He opened his lips to respond, but I cut him off. This man's nasty behavior has reached a breaking point.

With a frustrated sigh, I picked up the binders, turned on my heel, and walked off, determined not to waste any more of my precious time on him.

Even though I can feel him looking at me as I walked off to another elevator, I decided not to look back.

I refuse to let him enjoy watching me get agitated or irritated. I'll be damned if he wins the war, even though he might have won the battle.

I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing me upset. He may have won the battle, but I'll be damned if he wins the war.

With my heart still racing from my run-in with that handsome silly guy, I enter the elevator. What's up with guys like him, really? It seems that having extreme beauty would not be without basic human decency.

I sigh in frustration and fall back against the wall as the doors slide shut. Why is it that the bastards constantly seem to be drawn to me? Above my head, is there some unseen sign that says, "Please, feel free to treat me like crap"

I shake my head in an attempt to get rid of the remaining irritation. Getting heated up over a random guy who obviously lacks etiquette and respect for others' personal space is not worth it.

But still, it stings. Regardless of how many times it occurs, it always hurts. Considering that I secretly wonder whether I'm flawed. Am I too loud? Too opinionated? Not pretty enough? Not modest enough?

I examine my reflection on the mirrored walls of the elevator, looking at if I was a mess and I definitely was. My clothes, rumpled, my hair, a complete disaster, and I have a stain of lipstick on my cheek that I didn't see before. Yep, wrap the day up already.

But you know what? Screw that. Screw all of it. Even though I'm not flawless, I'm not going to let an adult man-child make me feel inferior.

D*mn it, I'm Juniper Johnson, and I'm not going to be used as a punching bag.

I roared as I got out of the elevator, "I'm so done with today and it hasn't even started yet."

I carried my binder close to me as I walked to the top floor. My boss, Jude Astor, who also owns the business where I work, called on me. To be honest, I'm a little anxious. You are not just called into the CEO's office to start a conversation.

I took a deep inhale and knock on the door when I get there. After hearing a faint "Come in," I push the door open and enter the slick, modern workplace. Jude Astor is seated behind his enormous desk and appears to be as intimidating as ever.

"Morning, Mr. Astor," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Morning, June. Please, take a seat," he replied, his tone neutral but his eyes sharp.

I sat down, placing the heavy binder on his desk. We go through the usual business, discussing reports, projections, and all that jazz. As soon as we're done, I get ready to leave the stressful situation.I was ready to go, though, when he called me back. "June, one more thing."

I froze, then turned around slowly. "Yes, Mr. Astor?"

He looked at me closely while steepling his fingers. "You've been working really well. So, we're promoting you. You'll be transferred to another department starting Monday."

My heart skipped a beat, and I couldn't help but smile. "Thank you, Mr. Astor. That's... that's amazing."

He nodded, reaching into a drawer and pulled out a contract. "Here's the paperwork. You'll see your new salary outlined there as well."

I took the contract, my hands trembling slightly with excitement. But as I scan the numbers, my heart sinks. It seems as though nothing was added at all because the raise is so small."What's the point of a promotion if it doesn't come with a significant raise?" I said secretly.I tried not to show my disappointment as I glanced up at him. "I see. Well, thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Astor. I appreciate it."

He gave me a curt nod. "You're welcome, June. We believe in rewarding hard work."

I forced a smile and signed the contract. "Of course. I'll make sure not to let you down."

"Good," he says, taking the contract back. "And one more thing, we've noticed you take public transport. We'd like to offer you a complimentary car."

I swallowed hard. "Mr. Astor, I don't have a driver's license. I am... I was in a vehicle accident and now have PTSD. My parents..." The words clung to my throat as my voice faltered.His face softens a little as he nods. "I see. Well, that's okay. The offer still stands if you ever decide to get your license. Take care of yourself, June. You're a valuable part of this company."

"Thank you, Mr. Astor," I said again, this time more quietly. I prepared to leave his office, feeling a mix of emotions; gratitude, frustration, and a lingering sadness I couldn't quite shake.

Before I turn to leave, he adds, "June, sometimes we need to face our fears to move forward. Don't let the past hold you back. You have a bright future ahead."

His words hung in the air as I nodded, forcing another smile. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you."

Yes, the promotion is an improvement, but the rise hardly reduces my financial concerns.And the vehicle However, that is a very different matter that I am not yet prepared to handle. At least it's something, though. All I need to do is keep going, one step at a time.I finished the last of the paperwork and looked at the time. At last, it's time to end the day. As I collect my belongings, I try not to dwell too much on the tiny raise and Mr. Astor's big "face your fears" motivational speech. Isn't it easier said than done?

As I step outside, the chilly air hits me, and I pull my coat tighter around myself. It must have been raining earlier because there's a huge muddy puddle right by the curb. Typical. Just what I need after a long day.

To kill time, I hold out my hand to call for a cab and begin to daydream. My thoughts are always drawn to the corny romance books I adore, and I can't stop it.You know, the ones where the poor heroine is swept off her feet by the sulky billionaire. Even if it's a foolish imagination, sometimes it's preferable to reality.I imagine a shining knight offering to take me away to a bright life when he pulls up in a gorgeous car. He would appear tall, black, and incredibly attractive, as if he had just stepped off one of those book covers. He would be a complete opposite of that monster from this morning, charming and attentive, of course.

Just as my fantasy gets good, my phone buzzes in my pocket, snapping me back to the real world. It's a text from my best friend, Chloe: Party tonight! You in?

I hesitated for a moment. I've got work early tomorrow, but Chloe's parties are always a blast. Plus, it's been forever since I had any fun. Screw it, I need this.

"Okay, fine, you win. I'll be there," I text back, a small smile playing on my lips.

As I'm putting my phone away, a car zooms past, splashing through the puddle and drenching me from head to toe in muddy water.

My clothes stick to me like a second skin, and I feel the cold seeping through. Great, just great.

I look up, and who do I see behind the wheel? Mr. Hotshot from this morning. Of course, it had to be him. He rolls down his window, a smug grin on his face. "We really have to stop meeting like this, sweetheart."

"S*xy thing! Look at those curves! Dammit!" he says, his voice dripping with a mix of arrogance and something else. "Look who we have here. You know, you look even better when you're wet."

I glare at him, feeling the mud drip down my face. "What the hell is your problem?"

He chuckles, his eyes lingering on my soaked clothes. "I just can't help myself around you. You're... distracting."

"Distracting?" I snap, crossing my arms over my chest. "You're a perv."

He licks his lips, his gaze still fixed on me. "Maybe. But I bet you think about me when you're alone, don't you?"

My blood boils. "Go to hell."

He smirks, looking like he's enjoying every second of this. "Only if you join me."

I turn away, stomping off, my shoes squelching with every step. I finally manage to hail a taxi and slump into the backseat, fuming.

So much for my fantasy. Real life really knows how to ruin a good daydream.