My best friend's brother is such an arrogant jerk. The first time we met, I bumped into him fresh out of the shower. He literally threw a shirt over my head. My best friend tried to smooth things over: "This is my gorgeous older friend, pretty, right?" He glared at me coldly, his tone dripping with sarcasm: "Ugly." Oh, so he's an arrogant little brat? I thought. Watch me put him in his place. After a period of me showering him with attention, taking care of him, being overwhelmingly sweet, and treating him like an absolute king... I gave up. He was still just as arrogant, and he absolutely refused to call me "Miss Cece" with even a shred of respect. But exactly two days after I threw in the towel, he messaged me first for the very first time. Mr. Arrogant: Playing hard to get? Mr. Arrogant: Cece. 1 I went over to my best friend's house to drop off some stuff and ran headfirst into a gorgeous guy fresh out of the shower. He was tall, with long legs, chiseled abs, and a pitifully small towel covering his crucial bits. Before I could even get a good look, a t-shirt was tossed directly over my head. My vision went dark, and I let out a delayed, startled shriek. My best friend, Chloe, ran out at the sound. I pointed at the guy who was now tightening his towel. "Who is this?!" Chloe blinked. "My brother." Me: ??? Wait a second, wasn't her brother a scrawny, awkward little kid? Chloe turned to the hot guy, trying to defuse the awkwardness. "This is my gorgeous older friend, pretty, right?" He glared at me coldly. "Ugly." Then he turned around and walked into his room. Me: ... Damn. He’s one of those cocky, arrogant guys. "How old is he again?" I asked. Chloe looked apologetic. "My brother... he's twenty. His rebellious phase came a bit late." I stared at Chloe, narrowing my eyes. "He's a grown adult. Someone needs to teach him some manners." Chloe flashed a knowing, wicked smile. She instantly air-dropped me his contact card. "Please. Fix him for me." 2 His name was Holden Brooks. He was a junior at UCLA, and supposedly, a pretty popular guy on campus. That just made him more fun to mess with. I added his number and sent my first "friendly" text. Me: Hey little bro, got time to grab dinner? Holden: Who is this? Me: Your sister's friend. The hot older woman who saw you fresh out of the shower the other day. He didn't reply for twenty minutes. Me: ? [Message Not Delivered] Wait... did this little brat just block me?! I immediately texted Chloe: Your brother blocked me! Make him unblock me right now! Chloe: He doesn't listen to me. You have to tell him yourself. Me: How am I supposed to tell him if I'm blocked? Chloe: You play League of Legends, right? He’s boosting a classmate in ranked tonight. I'll give you my account login. God, I love my best friend. That night, I joined their lobby and turned on my mic. When a voice that clearly wasn't Chloe's came through, Holden's classmate was stunned. "You aren't Holden's sister," a soft-spoken college boy said. "Who are you?" I made my voice sugar-sweet. "I'm a good friend of Holden's older sister..." "Oh, cool! Can you play Support, Miss?" "Of course." "Just sit back then, we'll carry you." I almost cried. What an absolute angel of a boy. Holden was a menace in comparison. I decided to actively shift my attention to the nice kid. But then Holden locked in the ADC role. As the Support, I was forced to follow him around the map. Holden: "Support, go check that brush for enemies." I happily trotted over. And immediately got jumped by three enemies hiding in the grass and died instantly. Holden: "Support, stop feeding them." Me: ? Didn't you literally just tell me to go in there?! Similar things happened multiple times. I strongly suspected Holden was doing it on purpose. By the end of the match, I essentially had zero impact. Even though we won, I was furious. Oh, so you want to play the carry? I thought. Fine. I'll play a parasite. Game two, I instantly locked in Yuumi—a cat champion that literally attaches to another player and can't be targeted. Holden immediately locked in Yasuo. Me: ... For the entire game, the second I attached to Holden, he would use his dash abilities to sprint headfirst into the entire enemy team, drop me off in the middle of the crossfire to die, and stylishly dash away. I even heard a faint, suppressed laugh over his mic. I was fuming! Before long, we were losing badly. All our base turrets were gone. The soft-spoken boy was totally confused. "Holden, you're a Challenger-tier Yasuo on your main account. How are we losing this badly on your smurf?" I scoffed into the mic. "Even Challenger players choke sometimes." Suddenly, Holden's character stopped right next to mine. "Get on." "Why?" I snapped. "I'll carry you." Yeah right, I thought. He's definitely just trying to drag me into the enemy fountain to die again. But I attached to his character anyway. Mostly because he still hadn't unblocked my number. To my surprise, he actually started trying. He racked up double kills and triple kills, completely turning the game around and pushing into the enemy base. Of course, I still died a few times in the crossfire. The second the enemy team was wiped out and we were destroying their nexus, he walked his character directly into their laser turret, intentionally dying right beside my respawning body. "What are you doing?" I asked, confused. Holden didn't answer, but the other guys in the lobby started laughing and teasing him. "Aww, dying together like a married couple." My face flushed hot. Shut up, you brats. Know your place. 3 After the gaming session, I realized I completely forgot to ask Holden to unblock me. Knowing it probably wouldn't go through, I grumpily typed out an iMessage: You're such an annoying brat, all you do is bully me. Delivered. I froze for two seconds. Just as I was about to unsend it, Holden replied: Oh. Me: ... Me: But I have to admit, you carrying us for that comeback at the end was pretty hot. Holden: Oh. What was with the boring reactions? Me: Call me Miss Cece and let's hear how it sounds. Holden didn't reply for five minutes. My heart sank. Was he going to block me again? Me: Just kidding! If you don't want to, you don't have to. Just don't block me! Two minutes later. Holden: Going to sleep. I stared at my phone and couldn't help but laugh out loud. Listen here, little boy. Playing hard to get with me comes with a price. 4 For the next little while, I made it my mission to "harass" Holden over text whenever I was bored. It was mostly trivial stuff. Did you eat? Are you asleep? Do you miss me? He ignored the first two types of questions entirely, but he always replied to the last one instantly: No. Impossible. Keep dreaming. I couldn't believe my first time genuinely pursuing a guy was hitting a brick wall built by a college kid. Frustrated, I went to Chloe for advice. She dragged me to a bar, complaining over her cocktails. "I don't know what happened to him. Ever since his grades shot up and he got into UCLA, he's been acting so weird and distant..." I listened patiently until I was decently buzzed. Chloe patted my shoulder. "I just texted Holden to come pick us up. I'm gonna head out early so you two can have some alone time. Don't waste the opportunity!" Before I could even protest, she was gone. I was sitting there, bored out of my mind, when a guy approached me. "Let me get your number, gorgeous." Not wanting to cause a scene, I gave him my Instagram. I could always block him later. But the guy was persistent. "Are you here alone? Wanna get out of here together?" I rubbed my temples in annoyance. When I looked up, I saw Holden walking in. "No thanks, my boyfriend is here to pick me up." I smirked, pointing across the room. "That's him." The guy took the hint and scurried off. Holden walked up, looking down at me with an unreadable expression. In the dim lighting of the club, I couldn't clearly see his eyes, but I could sense he was radiating anger. Was he mad that Chloe forced him to come? I muttered softly, "You really didn't have to come if you didn't want to..." Holden cut me off. "And then what? You'd just leave with some random guy?" Me: ? "No..." I was feeling lightheaded from the alcohol, so I stood up somewhat clumsily, intentionally swaying so I could lean against him. He suddenly grabbed my arm, practically marching me out of the bar. He opened the passenger door of his car and tossed me inside. Then he leaned in, his arms bracing on either side of me. His face was inches from mine. I could see the slight tremble of his eyelashes. My stupid heart started hammering against my ribs. In the heated, alcohol-scented tension, Holden's words were ice-cold. "If you're going to fish for other guys, don't mess with me." Me: ? Did he seriously think I was just playing him for fun? I was being completely genuine! The alcohol was hitting me hard, so I didn't have the energy to argue. I just laid my head back and groaned. He drove me to my apartment building before noticing something was wrong. Holden: "Are you faking it?" Me: "I'm gonna throw up." Holden: ... Holden: "Do not throw up in my car." Clearly, he loved his car more than me. He got out and hauled me onto the sidewalk. I leaned all my weight against him. "Why are you always so cold to me..." He didn't say a word. I kept complaining. "Just take me to a hotel..." Holden went completely rigid. "Keep dreaming." I whined, "But my apartment is on the fifth floor, and the elevator is broken... I can't walk up..." Holden: ... He was silent for a moment, then suddenly crouched down in front of me. "Get on." Wait. Is he giving me a piggyback ride? "I want a princess carry!" I demanded. "I'm giving you three seconds." I immediately jumped onto his back. Between the booze and the late hour, my senses were a bit blurry. I don't remember the climb up the stairs very well. I just remember that Holden smelled incredible—like fresh rain and pine needles. He carried me inside and even poured me a glass of water. I purposely stumbled towards him. When he tried to step back, I let myself fall, forcing him to catch me. Teasing younger guys was honestly top-tier entertainment. I originally wanted to pretend I was too drunk so he'd have to stay the night, but decided against pushing my luck. Holden practically dragged me to my bed. When he wasn't paying attention, I turned my head and lightly brushed my lips against his ear. He jolted like he'd been electrocuted. He shoved me back onto the mattress and practically sprinted out the front door, looking completely flustered. I lay there, stunned. He really just ran away? My buzz faded almost immediately. Annoyed, I sighed, threw on a jacket, and walked down to the corner bodega to grab two beers. When I walked out of the convenience store, popping the tab on a can, I saw a tall figure standing in the shadows outside my apartment building. The glowing red cherry of a cigarette faded as I approached. He took two steps forward, his handsome face catching the amber glow of the streetlamp. "Is playing drunk fun for you?" Holden asked. 5 ...Busted. I immediately slipped back into character, stumbling toward him, slurring my words. "You're still here...?" He just stared at me in absolute silence. It was excruciatingly awkward. But I had thick skin. I committed to the bit. I slumped against him like a wet noodle, mumbling nonsense. "Were you... worried about me?" I knew he wasn't. "See, I knew you cared about me..." I was digging my own grave. "Do you... have a crush on your older sister?" What the hell was I even saying?! To my shock, Holden didn't push me away. He stood there like a marble statue, letting me lean on him and act like a fool. I didn't want to overthink whether he actually knew I was faking it. I looked up at him, putting on my best puppy-dog eyes. "I spent so much time doing my makeup today. Do you think I look pretty?" Holden's eyes flickered. Suddenly, he reached out and pinched both of my cheeks. I was so surprised I froze, letting him squish my face into a weird shape. He stared down at me, letting out a very faint, breathy laugh. "Ugly." The hallway light was broken, but his eyes were impossibly bright in the dark. It took me a second to process. Did he just call me ugly again?! I was determined to make him piggyback me upstairs again, so I doubled down on the drunk act. Holden watched me with an amused, patient expression. When I grabbed his arm to pull him, he used my momentum to spin me around, pinning my back against the brick wall of the building. The sudden, aggressive scent of his cologne and cigarette smoke overwhelmed me. I froze completely. Holden leaned in closer, stopping when our breaths were practically mingling. He narrowed his eyes, his tone impossible to read. "The drunk game ends here. Next time, call someone else to take you home." Then he turned around and walked away without a second glance. Leaving me with a million questions. He did know I was faking! Then why didn't he call me out when I was acting ridiculous? And what did he mean by "call someone else"? Did this little brat seriously think I was the kind of girl who just let anyone take her home? Before going to sleep, I was so mad I typed out a massive paragraph explaining myself in our chat. But right before hitting send, I deleted it all. Maybe I was being too aggressive. Maybe I made him misunderstand my intentions. Whatever. I needed to back off a bit so I didn't scare the kid away. 6 For the next few days, the frequency of my "harassment" dropped significantly. The strategy of taking a step back to move forward actually worked. Holden replied to almost every text. Even though it was usually just "Oh," "Yeah," or "I'm busy." I didn't have much energy to focus on him anyway, because something incredibly dramatic happened in my own life. My first love, Tristan, suddenly reached out. Normally, I treat ex-boyfriends like they're dead. I don't look back. But Tristan refused to stay in the grave. Tristan was the longest relationship I'd ever had. His biggest selling point was his face. He was ridiculously good-looking. So good-looking, in fact, that a talent scout approached him on the street and signed him to an entertainment agency in LA. We had been together for two years by then. Once he signed the contract, his head got massive. He was obsessed with being a star and started picking fights with me over nothing. I knew he was looking for an excuse to dump me, so I beat him to the punch and broke up with him first. He agreed immediately. I was heartbroken for months. Now, a few years later, Tristan's acting dreams had crashed and burned. He lost his agency contract and moved back home in disgrace. Finding out I was still single, he begged our mutual friends to set up a group dinner to "accidentally" run into me. That dinner was miserable. I left as early as I politely could. Only to find Tristan blocking my path outside my apartment building. He nervously rubbed the edge of his jacket. "Cece, after all these years, I still can't forget you. After we broke up, I never liked anyone else." Bullshit. His agency contract literally had a strict no-dating clause. Now he was trying to act like a romantic martyr? I looked at him coldly. "Sorry, I forgot about you a long time ago." I turned toward the stairs without looking back. "Cece..." he called out softly. I glanced over my shoulder. Tristan was looking up at me, his hazel eyes looking tragically sad, his jawline as sharp as ever. I hated to admit it, but the guy was still stunning. So I offered him some genuine advice: "You should just go find a rich sugar mama. Don't let a face like that go to waste." 7 I thought my rejection was crystal clear, but Tristan was incredibly thick-skinned. He started "coincidentally" bumping into me everywhere. My marketing firm was doing field research that week, which meant I had to visit different retail locations every day. One of the locations was the coffee shop right off the UCLA campus. From the moment I arrived, I was on edge. I was terrified Tristan would show up and harass me, but I was equally terrified that Holden would see us together. I made an excuse to step out of the shop and walked down the main avenue, figuring I could hide for a bit. A few blocks down, I spotted Holden walking toward me. Speak of the devil. After dealing with Tristan's constant stalking, I had done some serious self-reflection on how I had treated Holden. He probably hated seeing me around just as much as I hated seeing Tristan. I immediately spun around, pretending I didn't see him. Footsteps approached from behind. Holden stopped right next to me. Since I couldn't escape, I turned and held up my company lanyard. "I'm working. Market research on college demographics." Holden gave a faint "Mhm." "I wasn't trying to follow you." "Mhm." "Okay, well, I'm gonna go..." "I'm a college student." He suddenly leaned down, closing the distance between us. "Aren't you going to survey me?" He was standing against the sunlight, casting a slight halo around his dark hair. When I met his eyes, my heart skipped a terrifyingly fast beat. I looked down at my clipboard. "Okay, let me just look at the questions..." "Cece, there you are! I've been looking everywhere." Tristan's voice hit me like a bucket of ice water. I snapped back to reality. Literally my worst nightmare. "Why are you here?!" I grabbed his arm, pulling him aside, hissing under my breath. "I am working!" He held up an iced latte, looking like a kicked puppy. "It's hot out. I brought you a drink." I glanced nervously at Holden. He was staring blankly at Tristan, his expression completely unreadable. Then he simply said, "I'm leaving," put his hands in his pockets, and walked away. I completely snapped. I turned on Tristan and let him have it. "Do you understand that this is stalking?! I made myself perfectly clear. Do you want me to call the police?" "Cece, I didn't mean to—" "Tristan, if you actually care about me, you would respect my boundaries instead of doing these creepy, self-serving stunts." He stared at me for a long time before finally nodding. "Okay." After Tristan left, my mood plummeted. Because it suddenly hit me: what I was doing to Holden was no different than what Tristan was doing to me. It was the same persistent, boundary-ignoring harassment disguised as affection. When I went back to the coffee shop, a barista handed me a fresh lemonade with a teasing smile. "A really tall, handsome guy asked me to give this to you." I froze. It had to be Holden. After I drank it, I took a picture of the empty cup and texted it to him. Me: Thank you. This time, Holden replied instantly. Holden: Don't mention it. Holden: Just didn't want you to drop dead from the heat. Me: ... Such an awkward, defensive kid. I stared at the chat screen, my mood instantly lifting. Maybe my presence wasn't entirely annoying to him after all.
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