Stepping off the plane, I paused a moment to organize my thoughts. I don't know why I was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. In the 13 hours it took to fly from Tokyo to New York, I had had more than enough time to anticipate my homecoming and all that it entailed. I had thought of my parents, of Lilly, of Pavlov, of Maya, of my band. I remembered the ferocity of the city I proudly knew as my hometown. I had closed my eyes and imagined the number of steps it took to get from the sidewalk to my parents' apartment. I remembered the nights I laid awake staring at the constellations over my bed, and the plans I had made while lying there. Those plans all revolved around another unforgettable aspect of my life.

Mia. To just call her an aspect of my life doesn't even come close to fully accurate. After all, she was the reason I had just spent nearly two years on the other side of the world. She was the reason medical technology had just taken a sudden leap forward. She was the reason why the new startup I created was pulling in more returns than I would have imagined. Mia was my inspiration, my muse, and my love.

I pulled myself out of my daze for long enough to haul my luggage off the baggage claim and to join the long, snaking line for customs. Realizing that it might take an hour just to get through, I slipped back into my reverie.

My last memory of Mia was downright painful. There had been so many arguments about trivial matters in those last days. I couldn't absolve myself of blame in the matter. After all, Mia and I had broached the topic of sex, but I hadn't mentioned anything about Judith. She overreacted, sure, but with the way society sensationalizes and sexualizes everything, it's not too hard to understand a teenage girl reacting that way. Of course, Mia isn't just any teenage girl. I'd expect her to be above all of that because, well, she is! Even without her royal status, she just is a better person than most teenage girls.

When Mia and I separated that night, I didn't think anything of it. I picked up the necklace I had given her, figuring that we would come to an agreement soon and that she would find a way to be sent on a Genovian diplomatic mission to Japan, at which point I would give it back to her and we would be able to be happy together again. But before I knew it, Mia was going out with Lilly's boyfriend.

I was hurt emotionally, but I was also furious. A number of words I generally avoid ran through my mind, directed at both of them. I was thankful long-distance phone calls were costly because it kept me from unloading my anger to them directly. I'm not too proud to admit that I wrote a virus which I considered sending in an email attachment, knowing that Mia would trustingly open it. I ran through a scenario in my head time after time in which I flew back to New York, beat the living daylights out of J.P., and got into a shouting match with Mia, which sometimes ended up with us getting back together and sometimes ended up with me finally being able to cut her out of my life. More often than not, it was the former. At some point, I began to notice how hard it was to continually hate Mia—I couldn't deny the fact that I was still in love with her.

This left me with a bit of a quandary. After all, she had a boyfriend. Common wisdom suggests that if you love something you need to let it go, and that if the person you love loves someone else, the true expression of your feelings is taking pleasure in their happiness. I wasn't really content to believe this, but I was able to distract myself in my work well enough while accepting this to be true.

Ironically, the impetus that derailed this train of thought was , the infernal creation of my sister. When I saw the site, I couldn't help but be disgusted. I decided it was worth splurging on an international call to force Lilly to take the website down.

I picked a time when I knew our parents would be working and that I knew she wouldn't be taping. Just as I planned, she answered and I didn't need to worry about getting distracted by my parents.

"Hello." She said, drawing out the first syllable to be intentionally rude or annoying. I love my sister, but I'm pretty sure if we weren't related, I wouldn't be able to stand her.

"Lilly." I responded, hoping she would recognize my voice and give me a chance to talk. It was a hollow dream, as she decided to use the opportunity to fill me in about her life.

"Michael!" She exclaimed, speaking quickly, "You never call us. Mom and dad aren't too happy about that. You should hear some of the interpretations they have about you and your life in Japan. Anyways, Korea. Did I ever tell you that people from AEHS know you're in Japan and they keep trying to equate Japan and Korea! Which is so terribly wrong and racist and I want to make that the next episode of Lilly Tells it Like it is, except now that I'm broadcasting in Korea, it seems like a topic they wouldn't be as interested in. I won't cave in to corporate greed, of course, but I need to respect my viewership! Not that you ever cared about my show. You're probably more interested in the goings-on of New York's very own royal, right? Well, you'd be happy to hear that—"

I cut her off. "That's what I'm calling about, Lilly. You need to take down that site." I took a deep breath. I expected her to jump in when I paused, but she wasn't saying anything. "Look," I continued, "I know you're probably still bitter about the J.P. thing or whatever—"

At this point, she cut me off. "Bitter over the J.P. thing? Come on, Michael. It ought to be abundantly clear," I groaned when she said this, but her tone of superiority continued, "that he is using her". This piqued my interest. Lilly realized she was telling me something that wasn't abundantly clear to me. "Oh yes! He just wants to be a famous playwright. Heck, he flat out told me so when he broke up with me. I thought it was the dumbest thing ever that he told me. I mean, she was my best friend; there was no way she wasn't going to find out. But then she jumped into his arms so fast, I knew she wasn't worth helping. I mean, sure, I was mad at first. But now, I'm just savoring all my hatred. The website is sweet, but knowing that she's just being used is delicious."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My sister's feelings were so unashamedly vile for the girl who was essentially her sister. And, more than that—Mia was just being played by her boyfriend. I didn't need to wallow in my research and consent to her happiness from another. I strengthened my resolve at my work and, to put it simply, stayed in love with her. I was going to get her back. Mia's a smart girl, eventually she would see through the jerk that was using her, and I would be there, a suitable suitor and (hopefully) still the love of her life.

It was hard to do much from so far away. I couldn't tell her about her boyfriend's lack of fealty. I just had to be there for her. We emailed back and forth and I always tried to continue the conversation. She'd try to shut me down sometimes. Recently, she had been adamantly trying to avoid sending me her senior project, an appraisal of the olive oil industry in Genovia. No matter how dry she said it was, I was more than happy to go through it and find interesting bits to talk about, just so we would be talking. No matter what, at the end of my emails, I included a bit for myself that made me smile. I always signed off with "Love". It started as an accident in the first email I sent her from Japan, back when I still was going to force myself to sit by because she could be happy with another person. Now, I included it as a sign to myself that I would forge on and wait for Mia to come to her senses—and to come to me.

My thoughts were interrupted when my business cell phone rang. "Mr. Moscovitz?" I affirmed that it was me. "This is Jerry, I was sent by some of your new investors to pick you up. I see that your flight landed, I just want to make sure that you know my limo is waiting right outside".

"Thanks Jerry," I said, "but I was in Japan for quite a while and the line for customs is pretty long. I might have another hour left."

"You—you know you can bypass that, right, sir? I spoke to one of your investors, and from what they said, you should be able to afford front of the line service no problem."

I hadn't realized that, but it had to be true. I had flown back to the United States in First Class, feeling on top of the world, but had been told by one of the faceless investors I can barely remember that I really should be chartering my own private jet! I guess that while I had imagined that I would do something great that would get me famous enough to wed a princess and enjoy ostentatious luxury, I hadn't realized that one of the side benefits of that was a multi-million dollar company, allowing me to enjoy those luxuries on my own. At least now I might be able to compete on the gift level.

"Right." I responded. "I'll—I'll see you in a few minutes."

I didn't need to worry about what I would need to do to proclaim my stature and get fast access, because it ended up that my prediction of an hour was grossly overstated. Within five minutes, I was strolling up and a middle-aged woman was stamping my passport.

"Welcome back to the United States!" She offered as I walked away, trying to strike the happiest tone someone who repeated this phrase thousands of times a day could. I shot her a smile as I strode into the lobby and then out of the airport. A lot had changed since I had left New York; there were things in my life I would have to come to terms with. But there was at least one thing that I was going to change back. My resolve was strong. Mia would be with me again.