It is both funny and scary how quickly time can get away from you once you reach a certain age. Lincoln realized that when he reached his late teens, and ever since then, it had only gotten worse. Or at least more pronounced. When he was a child, afternoons seemed to last forever, and a month away might as well be the oh so distant future. Now days seemed to end before they even began, and even bad times were over in a flash. That's normal, he had heard. As we grow older, a month, for example, represents a much shorter amount of our overall lives than it did when we were children, so it seems to go by faster. It was funny, though, because looking back at his childhood, time still seemed slower then. God, just getting from ten to twenty was an epic journey that lasted a lifetime. Now time had hit warp speed.

A month had passed since he landed in New York City and started working his new, important, big time job. He put in super long shifts, sometimes staying in his office until ten o clock at night. He knew from news stories, social media posts, and even the man's own Tweets that in any company Ellis Monk had any involvement with, people were expected to work their fingers to the bone. Monk owned a tech company in Silicon Valley and the news said that he made people sleep in their office. That was no good for a family man, but Lincoln had no family and no reason not to put in the hours. Might as well spend them working. He didn't get overtime, but there was a cafe in the lobby that was free to all employees, an on site gym, and other recreational activities. He could take a two hour break in the evening, eat dinner, relax in the employee longue, and then go back to his desk rested and refreshed.

He was fine with that. The whole point of him coming out here was to work, so why not work? He had precious little free time and it didn't bother him. Maybe it would in the future, but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. If he worked hard now and showed that he was a team player, his bosses would surely think highly enough of him that if he needed some time off, they'd give it to him. "He's a hard worker and he's earned it."

Maybe that was wishful thinking, though. Do companies really notice the work their employees put in? Do they really? From everything he had heard and seen, they didn't. Maybe they did in the old days, but these days, as a worker, you were disposable. They'd retire you and give you a gold watch back in the eighties. Today, after 40 years, nothing. You pack up your stuff and leave. Hell, before you're even out the door, your key card doesn't work anymore and the security guards look at you like you're a troublesome guest who has overstayed his welcome. No more good morning, sir.

Of course, Lincoln had never experienced that for himself. He had never worked at this company before and, indeed, he had never worked at such a high level before. No longer was he a mere cubical jockey, he had an office. Surely things were different when you had an office and were a little higher up the totem pole. He was middle management, and that had to mean something, right?

At least he hoped it did.

Either way, Lincoln didn't mind working long hours. It's not like he had anything else to do anyway. Sure, he enjoyed hanging out with Sid and Nikki, but his career - and earning a fat bag - was more important than anything else right now. You could also say that he threw himself into his work to help him forget about what had happened back in Royal Woods, and you wouldn't be wrong. Thankfully, no one at his current job seemed to have seen the video or even knew who he was. Coming to New York and getting lost in the urban sprawl was the absolute right decision for him to make, but he was still smarting over the whole affair, over Clyde, Ronnie Anne, and Haiku, over his sisters, over his parents, over everything. When he was buried under a mountain of work at his desk, he didn't have time to dwell on it all. When he was at home, though, free and clear with nothing of great important to occupy his mind and his time, it gnawed at him like a pounding surf slowly wearing away a rocky coastline.

Over the past month, however, his trauma over the whole thing - if trauma you wanted to call it - had cooled slightly. He didn't dream about it every night any more and even when his mind wasn't otherwise occupied, he didn't think about it 100 percent of the time. Maybe 75%. That was a step in the right direction, at least.

He knew on some level that he couldn't let this thing defeat and consume him. He was a young man with a lot of life left ahead of him. Bad things had happened in his past but he could not, would not, let that dictate the outcome of his future. We all have demons and we all have millstones around our necks. There comes a point in time when we can either choose to fight against them and swim anyway, or let them drag us to the bottom. It might not be an easy road, but at least it was a road into the future. The other road, the one you took when you let hate, resentment, and self-pity into your heart, went nowhere…except off the side of a sheer cliff. Too many people let the bad things in their rearview mirror distract them from the road ahead and wound up crashing. Lincoln didn't want to be one of them. Every time his mind drifted back to what happened and he started to feel sorry for himself, he would chastise himself as brutally as humanly possible. This was a zero sum game in his mind, and when it comes to zero sum games, there's no room for gentleness and diplomacy. If you're a coack and you're at the Super Bowl, you don't coddle your players and let them take naps in the middle of the third quarter. You kick their asses out onto the field and send them to win.

Lincoln didn't know about anyone else, but he was in it to win it, not just for the sake of being present and accounted for. He would do whatever it took, and if that meant taking a bad…humiliating…sort of life-altering rexpierence on the chin, well, by god, that's what he was going to do.

It helped that he kept so busy. Time flies in general, but it really flies when you're working. One day turned into one week, and one week had turned into a month. It went by so quickly that he still felt like he had just started. In fact, if he wasn't careful, he'd still get lost on his way to the bathroom.

Lincoln enjoyed the work he was doing. It was new to him and challenging. Not challenging enough to be frustrating, but challenging enough that it, well, challenged would be a liar if he said that he didn't also enjoy the respect that he had in the company. People called him "sir" and recognized him as someone important. After all, he had an office and that meant something in a place like this.

The money was secondary, but Lincoln was also looking forward to his check. It was probably unheard of - and maybe a giant red flag - but he and the boss hadn;t discussed pay. Under normal circumstances, Lincoln would have made sure to ask about money upfront, but he didn't start this job under normal circumstances. He had the feeling, no matter how unjust, that he was a pity hire, and that asking about pay would be rude, sort of like looking a gift horse in the mouth. You know where that saying comes from? To determine a horse's age, you check its teeth and mouth; for what, Lincoln didn't know, but that was apparently how you could tell if it was young or old. If someone gives you a horse and you immediately check it's mouth, that's pretty rude. It's like getting money and then counting it in front of the person who gave it to you. One of those unspoken don'ts of life.

As days passed, he realized that that was a pretty retarded way of looking at things. This wasn't a gift, it was his goddamn paycheck, why didn't he think to ask what he'd be making? And why didn't they tell think to tell him? That's a pretty important aspect of the whole thing, right? It didn't bother him too much, though. He knew the pay range and it was much more than he was making back in Royal Woods. That was good enough for him. Plus…weird as it may be to think this way with your money, but he kind of wanted to be surprised.

The pay structure at the company was weird. Once a month. On the first, your money appeared in your account and that was it until the next month, unless you needed an advance, whereupon you could talk to the people in finance. Lincoln did that at first so that he would have some spending money and they gave him 1,500 dollars. Not great but not terrible. He bought groceries for the apartment with most of it, as his way of paying Sid and Nikki back.

Lincoln waited on tenterhooks for his check to come in - by direct deposit, of course - like a kid waiting for Christmas morning. When he was younger, that level of anticipation would make every hour seem like a day and every day feel like a month, but strangely, time passed just as quickly had it usually did. The day, no matter how long or filled with waiting, flashed by, and sometimes he actually found himself wishing that things would slow down a little. Gee, Father Time, chill; at this rate I'm gonna be old and dead soon.

And that's no fun.

On the day his pay was finally deposited into his account, Lincoln hesitated to log into his bank account and see how much he got. He had no hard and fast expectations but he was sure that no matter what it was, he would be a little disappointed. You can't help feeling that way after a whole month of waiting. Also keep in mind, he already got 1,500 of it, so it was going to be lighter than it would be otherwise. That was kind of a damper, but he still expected a healthy sum.

Finally, sitting at his desk following his fifth Zoom meeting of the day, Lincoln logged into his bank account while eating a pastrami on rye that he got from the free cafeteria on the second floor. He waited for the screen to load, and when it did, his eyes instantly flicked to the amount.

His jaw dropped.

Lincoln didn't know exactly what he imagined, but he had to right, no right whatsoever, to expect a full six figures. An email from the boss, that he found and read afterward, mentioned that there was a bonus "tacked on" for him doing such a good job with his clients and keeping everything in order, and making the transition from the last guy to him "so smooth and seamless." Even so, six figures? For one month's worth of work? That was ridiculous. Unrealistic. Holy shit, he never thought he'd make that. Jesus, this was more than most people made in a year.

It occurred to him that he would definitely be disappointed by the next check, as there was no way on God's green earth that it could match this one.

Though he had made decent money at his last job (or at least he thought it was decent until now), Lincoln had never had this much money at one time. Prices in NYC were sky high, yeah, but Jesus H, 100k was still 100k. Instantly, his mind turned toward all the things he could buy with this much cash. Luckily it was the end of the day and he didn't have anything too pressing on his desk, because he wasn't able to focus on anything else but his bag.

The first thing Lincoln wound up doing with his money was paying Sid and Nikki's rent for the next six months. The super of the building, an old black man named Thurgoode, took the money with a raised eyebrow. "You rich now?" he asked as though he knew Lincoln. He did not. They had been in the same place at the same time while Thurgoode fixed the sink in the kitchen.

"Not really," Lincoln said, even though yeah, he kind of was rich now, he guessed.

Thurgoode hummed but didn't say any more. Lincoln did some mental math and realized that he still had the vast majority of his check left over, even after forking over six months worth of rent for a decently sized apartment in Mahattan. Maybe he'd buy a car. Then again, parking in the city was a goddamn nightmare. There were never any spaces and the traffic…man alive, the traffic was awful. It was just like in the movies: Bumper to bumper and barely moving. You could walk faster than traffic moves in NYC. Plus, he didn't really need a car. New York City in general and Mahattan in particular was its own self contained universe. Everything he could possibly need or want was within walking distance…literally. Manhattan was only 13 miles long and 2 miles wide. He'd walked that same distance before and was sure he could do it again. And even if he didn't want to or couldn't do it, there always were subways, buses, and taxis.

That was the one thing Lincoln loved about the city. Everything was right and your fingertips. Your only limit was your own will…or energy level. Lincoln wasn't one of those cringy people who bitch incessantly about being an adult and having to live an adult life; hey, even if adulting sucks, what is bellyaching going to accomplish? Nothing, that's what. But even so, it was true that most days, he was tired out from work and didn't feel like doing much of anything. There were tons of cool things to do and see in the city but he didn't have the energy to do or see them. He hadn't been to the Statue of Liberty yet, or to the museum, or to the Empire State Building. He wanted to do all of those things, but when the weekend finally rolled around and he had a little free time, he was too tired.

You might say "Linc, you're being dramatic, you sit at a desk all day, it's not like you're breaking your back and exhausting your body." You'd be somewhat right. Look, he knew he had it easy and that there were people out there who worked far harder jobs than him for far less money. He wasn't complaining or anything, but seriously, his type of work could drain you just as surely as digging a ditch could. It was more mental than physical, which was kind of worse in some respects. If you come home with an aching back or throbbing feet, you could sit down, grab an ice pack, or a heat pad. Being mentally and emotionally drained after staring at a computer for 13 hours? You were toast. Sometimes he got pretty bad headaches and nothing could shake them. He'd crunch half a bottle of Ibprofrine just to lessen the pain.

Thankfully, though, as his body and mind adjusted to his new hours, he was starting to get used to it all. Now with a 6 figure check burning a hole in his pocket, he was filled with renewed energy and passion. He felt like he could do anything, and wanted to do everything.

Leaving Thurgoode to count his money, Lincoln went up the stairwell. At the top, a hobo was sitting against the wall with his legs stuck out in front of him and his head lolling to one side. A bottle in a brown paper bag sat between his legs and a half eaten McDonald's cheeseburger infested with roaches sat nearby. The smell of piss, body odor, and alcohol choked Lincoln as he tip toed past, and as soon as he was free of it, he took a deep breath. Roaches and bedbugs were a huge problem in this building but, thankfully, hadn't encroached on Sid and Nikki's apartment. They paid for pest control out of their own pocket, and so far, so good. Lincoln hated roaches and bed bugs, but what he hated most of all were the rats.

Jesus H. Everloving Christ, the rats.

He had heard stories and memes about NYC rats for years and he thought that they were just that, stories and memes. Any big city or huge concentration of people is going to produce food waste which will attract rats. That's, like, a law of nature. Dead bodies always attract flies and cities attract rats. It is what it is. The rats in NYC, however, were famously big. He didn't know why. There were other massive cities in the US but for whatever reason, the ones in the Big Apple were the biggest of all. He didn't know why but he thought rats the size of cats were an urban legend until one day when he took the trash out. It was after dark and when he tossed the bag into the dumpester, giant shapes darted out and away. One came right at him, and he ran like a little bitch. Sid and Nikki both laughed at him and teased him about being a little baby man scared of a mouse, but that was no fucking mouse. And not only were the rats here big, they were also aggressive. They were so used to be people that they didn't shy away, no, if you rolled up on them, they'd attack.

It was weird. There were stray cats in the city too, but nowhere near as many and they weren't as aggressive. They'd hiss and spit if you approached them, but Lincoln could walk past one and be fine. If he saw or heard rats thumping around a pile of trash, he'd cross to the other side of the street. Nope. Keep that shit over there.

In the apartment, Sid was seated at her work station filming a video for her YouTube channel, and Nikki was on the couch with her long legs folded beneath her, laptop balanced haphazardly on her lap. Lincoln sat next to her and she acknowledged him with a silent up-down chin-nod. It was warm and she wore shorts and a tank top that bared her long, thin arms. Her blonde hair hung free, partially veiling her eyes. It was wet, suggesting that she had either just taken a shower or run a marathon. He couldn't tell which but he assumed it was the former. Nikki's long, crane like legs made her a decent runner, but she was too lazy to run a marathon.

To be fair, so was he.

Neither of them spoke because Sid was still recording. Out of respect, they were both as quiet as possible, though sometimes Nikki liked to mess with Sid. One time they had an argument over something, and to get even, Nikki waited until Sid was streaming, then walked past her ass naked. Sid was instantly hit with a strike and her account was suspended for a week lol. Sid was so mad that she and Nikki wound up in a hair pulling match. Lincoln wasn't here to see it, but he kind of wished he was.

Not long after it happened, they were back to being besties. They were a lot like kids in that regard. They'd bicker and fight, then five minutes later, all was forgiven and forgotten. It was an amusing dynamic. So far, he'd been able to successfully stay out of their little skirmishes, but they both did their level best to bring him in on their side. After the way things went down in Royal Woods, Lincoln just wanted to live a nice, drama free life, so he found a way to disentangle himself from their fighting whenever he found himself in the crossfire.

Presently, Sid signed off with a perky, "Until next time, guys." She cocked her head, did a double peace sign, and stuck out her tongue. When the camera was off, she sighed, pulled off her cat ear headphones, and threw them aside. "I am so sick of weirdos simping for me because I'm Asian. Seriously, relax." She sat heavily back in the chair and took a deep, weary breath. "What's wrong with guys these days? I like anime too but damn. I wish I was boring and white like you, Nikki. No one ever simps for you."

"Right here," Nikki said and held up her middle finger without turning.

"How original," Sid called, "it's the finger, isn't it? I got something you can use that finger for."

"Whip it out," Nikki replied.

"I meant pay the rent," Sid said, "dyke. It's due."

Before Nikki could reply, Lincoln cleared his throat. "Actually, I already paid it."

"Oh," Sid said. "You got your first check?" There was interest in her voice. Not a greedy sort of interest, but genuine, friendly curiosity. "How much was it?"

A big smile spread across Lincoln's face. "A hundred thousand.:"

Silence filled the room. Nikki looked at him disbelievingly and Sid's chair creaked as she turned around. "A hundred thousand?" Nikki asked slowly, an edge of shock in her voice.

"For one month?" Sid asked.

"Well, there was a little bonus in it," Lincoln said, "so it's not what I'm going to makr every month, but yeah. I paid the rent for six months."

Now Sid was standing in the living room looking at him, her mouth agape. "Holy shit, really?" Nikki asked.

"Yep," Lincoln said, "so you guys don't have to worry about it for a while. I'm also gonna pick up the electric and internet, I just need the account information." Lincoln got to his feet. "Also, as a thank you, I wanna take you guys out to dinner or something. Wherever you want, just pick."

Sid was so ecstatic that she swept Lincoln into a big hug and smothered his face in kisses. She was shorter than he was but she was strong, and for a brief second there, he was pretty sure that she literally lifted him off of his feet. When she released him, Nikki slipped her arms around his waist from behind and pulled his body flush to hers. He wasn't expecting it and almost fell over. She pressed her lips to the side of his neck in a sensual way, and her breath breaking against his skin sent goosebumps racing up and down his arms. "Grazie, Bello," she said.

Oh, more Italian. Grazie sounded a lot like gracias, Spanish for 'thank you.' He had no idea wtf 'bello' was. Where he came from, bellow meant 'to scream or yell.' Or something like thank. Though he had been living with Nikki for over a month and though she often used random Italian as a means of practicing, he had yet to pick any of it up.

His inability to gleen any Italian from Nikki wasn't the hot topic, though. She was touching and kissing him in a very sensual way, and his throat swelled closed, heart pounding. "Uh…you're welcome."

"I know," Sid said, "let's go to your restaurant, Nikki. The food's good and we can rub our newfound wealth in your coworker's faces." A wicked smile touched Sid's lips and she fisted her hands like Beavis in the thoroes of a Cornholio meltdown. "We'll make those greaseballs so jealous they'll die."

Letting go of Lincoln, Nikki seemed to ponder her friend's suggestion. "Maybe if we drop enough money, Tony will start respecting me a little more."

Tony was the owner, an older Italian-American guy who, per Nikki, treated everyone like dog water. Nikki said that it was "just his way" but it got on her nerves. Tony was the kind of guy who respected money, and would shamelessly kiss up to anyone who had it, in hopes of getting some for himself.

"Yeah," Sid said enthiastically. "He'll treat you like a queen if he thinks you're rich. You can call out, leave early, and make other people do your job. In other words, you can be the lazy bitch there that you are at home and not get fired for it."

Lincoln rubbed the back of his neck. This sounded kind of, uh…retarded…but okay, if that's what they wanted to do. Lincoln was down for some good Italian food, and if going there and spending a little bit of money got Nikki in good with the boss, it was worth it. God knew he had enough money to burn. In fact, he could probably buy the place outright, especially if Tony was really as greedy as Nikki said he was. Lincoln had no idea how much buying a restaurant in NYC would cost, but he was pretty sure that if Tony was as money hungry as Nikki made him out to be, Lincoln could wave 50k under his nose and get the place.

Not that he wanted it. Running a restaurant sounded like a pain in the ass.

"Okay," Lincoln said, "I'm down if you guys are."

"Let's go," Sid said.

She and Nikki each threaded their arm through one of Lincoln's and they left the house.

Cibo Bello - literally "Beautiful Food" - sat on the corner of 6th and West 53rd in a rundown storefront with a yellow electric sign and a rusted fire escape crisscrossing the upper floors. There were apartments above the stores along the street and Tony apparently lived in one of them. This part of town wasn't the best and Nikki told him that because Tony was cheap, they tossed most of their trash in the alleyway out back, which meant that the place was crawling with rats. Not inside, but outside. If you weren't careful, you might get bitten. Inside, the floor was cracked and warpes linoleum and the walls were faux woode paneled and boasted posters from movies - Rocky in a victory pose with ITALIAN STALLION across the front, the cast from GoodFellas clustered together and looking ominous - and framed photos of various celebrities who had dined there over the years. Lincoln immediately picked out John Gotti smiing for the camera. The Dapper Don was wedged in a booth across from a young, scrawny pipsqueak who grinned like he was meeting Jesus.

"That's Tony," Nikki whispered. "Back when his dad owned the place."

"He knew John Gotti?"

"He came into eat a lot," Nikki said. "He really liked the meatballs. I tease Tony about him being in the mob and he gets so pissed he turns red." She snickered. "He calls me a racist."

The walls were lined with green vinyl booths, each with a little candle, and a counter flanked the back wall. A pudgy man with gray hair and wearing a dirty white apron over an even dirtier white T-shirt bent over a computer and squinted through a pair of reading glasses. "What the fuck does ty mean?" he asked himself. He looked around as if for help, and spotted Nikki. "You just couldn't stay away, could you?"

That could only be Tony.

"I love the place too much," Nikki said as she, Sid, and Lincoln walked up to the counter. "The grease and dust bunnies under the table call to me when I'm away."

Tony shushed her and looked around to make sure no one had heard her. "You tryna get me closed down or somethin'?"

Nikki waved him off. "Your customers won't care. They're all nasty slobs with no taste anyway. If they weren't, they'd eat somewhere else."

"My customers are great, why do you gotta insult them? They might be slobs but they keep us in business. Anyway, what do you want?"

Nikki grabbed a menu and looked it over. There were the typical things you'd expect from a cheap Italian restaurant - pizza, subs, calzones - but there was also a high end section with more expensive fare. "I just came into a lot of money and I'm hungry. Give us three of every dish on the high roller menu."

That made Tony laugh. "I don't pay you enough to eat off that menu."

"I know," Nikki said, "but my man Lincoln here is rich."

The old Italian didn't look convinced. "That so?"

"Show him, Linc," Nikki said.

Reaching into his back pocket, Lincoln pulled out his wallet, opened it up, and pulled out five crisp one hundred dollar bills. He slapped them on the counter and Tony's eyes widened. "Holy shit, you weren't lying." He bowed to Lincoln. "Right this way, sir." As he led them to a table, he called out to one of his servers. "Hey, Georgo, get these people a bottle of our best wine. Not that crap we give everyone else."

At the table, Tony bowed again. "Your food will be out shortly, sir. Is there anything else I can get for you?"

Before Lincoln could reply, Nikki said, "That picture of John Gotti over there. Lincoln said he doesn't like it. He called John Gotti a punk."

"He is a punk," Tony said. He went over, snatched the picture off the wall, and smashed it on the floor with a tinkle of breaking glass. Everyone stopped talking and looked at Tony. Tony spat onto the remains of the picture and said, "I never liked that picture anyway."

When he was gone, Lincoln chuckled, a bit bemused. "You were serious about him kissing up."

"He's a total brown noser," Nikki said.

"Maybe if we wave enough money around, he'll get down on his hands and knees like a dog," Sid said. "That'd be great. We could livestream it and go viral. Think of it: Mob Boss Barks and Shits on Floor."

"But he's not a mob boss," Nikki said.

Sid shrugged. "So? We can just say he is."

"But what if the real mob gets offended and decides to come after us?" Nikki asked.

Blowing a raspberry, Sid waved her hand. "They're not gonna do anything. They're struggling just to stay out of prison these days. It's not like 1950 when they controlled everything. Now they control two outhouses and a picnic table." She laughed.

"If you don't do what they say, they won't let you poop," Lincoln said.

"Or sit down," Nikki added. "'Ey, youse guys can't sit here.'"

"Oh, no," Lincoln said, "too bad there aren't any other places to sit in the entire city."

A man in a white shirt and black pants brought them their wine and three crystal glasses. "Oh, shit," Nikki said, "the good glasses."

"Tony's really pulling out all the stops to impress you, Linc," Sid said and playfully batted her eyelashes. "I wouldn't be surprised if he offers to go down on you."

The waiter snorted. "For 50 bucks, that old bastard'll suck anyone."

"You know this how?" Nikki asked her coworker, raising a curious eyebrow.

The waiter winked and then walked off. Lincoln was sure that he was only kidding around, but what if he wasn't? What if Tony really would suck him off for money? Jesus, the guy had a business and all, he wouldn't stoop that low, would he?

Lincoln poured them each a glass of wine and they chatted as they drank. At one point, Nikki turned to Sid. "Chi di noi va a letto con lui stanotte?"

A blank expression crossed Sid's face, and she tilted her head to one side as if by doing so, she could absorb and understand what her friend had said. "Cosa?"

"Sesso con capelli bianchi. Tu? Me?"

Now Lincoln was confused. He hated when they started talking Italian.

Sid repeated the word "cepelli" back to herself, her lips moving but seeming to produce no sound. All at once, it dawned on her and her eyes widened. "Me," she said.

"Certo tu," Nikki said, looking annoyed.

"Per favore?" Sid begged, looking like an excited little girl. "Vogglio lui."

"Perche?"

"Perche lui e dolce. E muy caldo."

"Muy is Spanish, dumbass," Nikki snapped.

"Vaffanculo," Sid said and smirked. "That Italian enough for you?"

Lincoln took an awkward drink and looked around the restaurant.

"Ma vogglio," Nikki said.

Sid shrugged. "Lui e mio."

"Si pensa?"

Sid nodded. "Si."

"Sto andando taglia tu nel culo," Nikki growled.

"Vorrei questo di lui," Sid said. "Per favore? You can have…I mean…domande."

"You mean domani?" Nikki asked.

"Si. I mean yes."

Nikki held up her fist and for a second, Lincoln thought she was going to punch Sid, but then they launched into one of their famous games of rock, paper, scissors. They were having a disagreement over something, then. What, Lincoln didn't know.

Sid came out on top, and Nikki sighed. Throwing her hands into the air like a girl on a roller coaster, she shouted, "Lo scoperò stasera!' at the top of her lungs.

The entire restaurant fell silent. From a few of the glares she got, it was evident that she and Nikki weren't the only ones who spoke Italian around here.

And she had said something pretty offensive.

Realizing this, she blushed and sank into her seat with a sheepish smile. "Mi dispiace," she said, "mi dispiace."

"Nice going," Nikki said, "anyone else you wanna tell? I don't think the whole city heard you."

Sid grinned.

Tony and a few other waiters soon brought their food out to them. "What's all that screaming about?" Tony asked. "I got old ladies in here and they're threatening to never come back. They think you're a couple hookers. Your mother ever teach you any…?"

Nikki grabbed a fifty from Lincoln and held it up. Even as he spoke, Tony took it and tucked into his shirt, between his man boobs. "Divertiti a scopare il tuo ragazzo," he said.

Sid and Nikki both looked embarrassed.

Lincoln shook his head. These girls were nuts.

But the food looked really good.

From there, they ate, drank, and talked like old friends. Nikki and Sid were both very flirty, and got even flirtier as they became drunker and drunker on Tony's wine.

As it turned out, sesso con capelli bianchi wound up not happening that night. Sid and Nikki were both far too drunk for anything, much less sesso. Lincoln helped them home and saw them to bed, making sure they reached their destination without tripping and breaking their necks. In his room, he stripped down to his underwear, crawled into bed, and held on as the room twisted and spun around him like a merry go round on steroids. He wondered to himself what Sid and Nikki had been talking about and why it had caused such a scandal in the restaurant, but his mind was muddled and slow, and soon he passed out, forgetting all about it.

The next couple of days were normal enough. Nikki and Sid would occasionally talk in hushed Italian and make eyes at him, but he left it alone. They were both beautiful girls and if one or both of them were interested in him, great, but they'd have to make the first move. If his suspicions were correct, which there was no guarantee that they were. Maybe he was misreading things, building hopeful castles in the sky out of wishful thinking and boyish fantasy. He didn't allow himself to get his hopes up. If not, oh well. Honestly, he was too busy at work to worry much about relationships and extracurricular activities. He was still settling into his job and didn't want to distract himself from becoming the best version of himself that he could be.

Two days after the "date", Lincoln got a video call from Lily. It was late afternoon and he happened to be home because he had a company wide meeting at 5, and after it the boss let everyone go home. "Profits are up tenfold this quarter," he announced proudly. "You've all been doing a great job, take the rest of the afternoon off."

Lisa and Leni were in the background when Lily popped up on the screen, and Lincoln could tell that they had something important to say. "Hey," Lincoln said, "what's up?"

"A lot," Lily said and karate chopped the air for emphasis.

"Oh boy," he said.

When Lincoln left Royal Woods, he wanted to move on with his life and forget everyone and everything from his past - except for the three sisters in front of him, of course. They were okay. Even so, he did think of the place and its people often, and was genuinely interested in hearing news and gossip from back home.

Home.

NYC was his home now.

But even so, Royal Woods was part of him, and he was beginning to realize that he would never be able to truly shake it.

"You're never gonna believe it," Lily said, stumbling excitedly over her words, "you're just not. I barely even believe it and I'm here. I mean, I was there and…"

He let her ramble a bit before asking her what happened.

She told him that after Lincoln left, Clyde continued "seeing" Stella, Haiku, Ronnie Anne, and the Loud girls. Luan, Lynn, and Lori were already spoken for, however, and the affair was supposed to remain a secret from their boyfriends. Bobby, Francisco, and Benny, however, heard from their friends that there was something fishy going on involving Clyde. Well, somehow they got solid confirmation that Clyde was banging their girlfriends, so they did the most logical thing a group of cucked lovers could do.

They jumped him one night and beat the ever loving shit out of him. They left him laying on the sidewalk then spread the news far and wide that the Loud girls were sluts. Now everyone in town knew who Clyde was sleeping with and the reputation of the Loud family was in the toilet. Mom and Dad gave the girls a mighty tongue lashing. Lily, Lisa, and Leni escaped this, of course, since they weren't with Clyde; they watched from the sidelines with popcorn in hand and laughed at the misfortunte of their sisters. Right after the dressing down from Mom and Dad, Leni told them "Get rekt," which humiliated them even more.

They had paid for their crimes against him and now their lives were ruined. They were even fired from their jobs over the rumors.

Lincoln should have been pleased, but he felt kind of bad for them. He didn't want to see their lives utterly and totally destroyed, but he would be a baldface liar if he said that he didn't take at least a little satisfaction in the fact that they had gotten theirs.

There was nothing he could do but laugh. Oh well, they knowingly put themselves in that position and had been giant jerks to him when he needed them the most, so fuck 'em. In the immortal words of The Joker, you get what you fucking deserve.

Lincoln signed off by saying that he missed them and would visit as soon as he had the time. He closed out of his laptop and sighed.

Could today get any better?

Immediately, it did.

A knock came at his door, and then Sid poked her head in. "Hey, Linc," she said a bit nervously. "How's it going?"

"Ood," Lincoln said honestly.

"Great. I was wondering if maybe…" here she trailed off and anxious rubbed her arm. "You know, you might like to do something later on?"

Lincoln grinned. "Like a date?"

Sid looked mortified, as though he had caught her changing. "No! I mean…if you want it to be, sure, but, you know, just…"

"I'd love to," Lincoln said.

"I also have something to tell you. About Ronnie Anne." Here Sid's face turned scarlet and she flicked her almond shaped eyes to the floor. It would be untrue if Lincoln said that he had not noticed how attractive she was in the recent past, but for some inexplicable reason, right now, nervous and unsure of herself like a virgin schoolgirl who had never even spoken to a boy before, she was outright beautiful.

"Okay," he said. "Do you have anything in mind? Dinner? A movie? Something like that?"

"I have the perfect idea," Sid said with a smile.

"Alright, then," Lincoln said, "I'll leave the details up to you."

They left about two hours later, while Nikki was preparing to film a livestream. "Good, you guys will be outta my hair for a while," she said. "Just what I need, some peace and quiet."

"Alright, Lincoln," Sid said, "date's off. We're staying right here."

Nikki snorted. "The fuck you are." She shooed them off like a couple of pesky kids. Though it was all light-hearted and a big joke, Lincoln thought that maybe, just maybe, he detected a little hint of envy.

Then again, that could just be wishful thinking on his part.

Then again again (if that was possible), he thought the same thing about the idea of Sid being into him, yet here they were going on a date. He should really stop underestimating himself.

Anyway, they left the apartment and took a stroll through the warm evening, past brownstones and mom and pop stores closing up for the day. They wound up in a fancy restaurant with outdoor seating, and sat at a wrought iron table on the patio."I've always wanted to try this place," Sid said. "I've always been too poor."

Lincoln opened her mouth but she cut him off. "Not that I'm making you pay or anything. I had a good month with my channel, so it's my treat. I don't wanna, like, you know, look I'm using you or something."

"I didn't think that at all," Lincoln said.

"I'm totally down for paying. I mean, it should be the responsibility of the person who wanted the date, right? Like, I asked you, you wouldn't even be here if I didn't, so I should pay. Usually it's the guy who pays but also he's usually the one who asks and I get that but this time is different and…am I rambling?"

Lincoln tried his hardest not to smile. "Yes," he said, "you are."

They both laughed and Sid flicked her eyes to the table. "Sorry," she said and threw one hand up, "I do that when I'm nervous."

Their drinks arrived and Lincoln took a sip of his. "Why are you nervous?" he asked casually. "I thought we were friends."

"We are," Sid said quickly, "it's just, I mean…" she laughed nervously and rubbed the back of her neck. "You know…it's different right now."

Lincoln considered pressing her, just to see what she would say, but he decided to take mercy on her. "Yeah," he said, "I guess it is."

They both ordered when the waitress came back, and then made small talk while they waited for their food. "You and Nikki sure love talking in Italian and leaving me out in the cold," Lincoln said at one point, to which Sid laughed.

"It's kind of fun to speak another language," Sid said. "Honestly, though, we're both awful. I know a few phrases, some words, and kinda sorta how the language is, like, you know, structured, but not much. I'd probably sound to an Italian like an Indian person sounds to us. Send bobs, open bobs."

They laughed.

"Can you ask for boobs in Italian?" Lincoln asked.

"No, I don't know the word," Sid said. "I know pene, which is penis, and that's pretty much it. If I wanted to a girl to send me a naked pic, I'd have to ask for…uh…" she rolled her eyes up to the sky in thought. "Regazza pene, which means girl penis. Either I'll get a literal girl dick or the girl in question would understand what I'm trying to say and get offended." She laughed.

"There's nothing more romantic than broken, heavily accented language," Lincoln pointed out.

"Oh, yeah," Sid said sarcastically, "it's so hot. I'm a regular hot ticket item down at the call center."

"I'd call you," Lincoln said.

Sid blushed deeply and looked down at the table. "Thanks. I'd answer. And if I was too busy, I'd…call you back."

"That might be against company policy," Lincoln said.

"But it's not against mine."

They laughed again.

They continued to chat as they ate. When they were finished, dusk was blending into night and the traffic passing in the street slacked off a little. Sid proudly paid for their dinner, and then they left, Lincoln letting Sid lead the way. She said there was a "part two" to their date, and Lincoln grinned. "Oh, boy, part two."

"It's gonna rule," Sid said. "Just you watch. You're gonna be like "Wow, Sid, this is so cool, I can't believe it, you're awesome, marry me." She snapped her mouth closed after the last comment, as though she regretting saying it aloud.

Lincoln just laughed. "Well, we'll see about that. I'm pretty hard to impress. You know, being a big shot businessman. I've seen it all, kid."

Again, they laughed.

The part two to their date wound up being a fireworks display in Washington Park. Lincoln recalled hearing or reading about the event somewhere but had put it out of his mind and had no idea that it was today.

Overhead, bright colors burst and made intricate patterns across the dull, light polluted night sky. Everyone oohed and ahhed, and as they watched, Sid cuddled against Lincoln, trying to be as causal and nonchalant as possible. It's pretty hard to do something like that nonchalantly. Lincoln responded by smoothly putting his arm around her shoulder and drawing her closer. The feeling of her warmth and the shape of her body against his made his heart beat faster and the clean, fruity smell of her hair was light and intoxicating.

After the fireworks display, everyone started to leave, but Sid asked Lincoln to wait a little longer because she wanted to talk. They took a little stroll together and followed a dimly lit foot path through the park. When they were out of sight of other people, Sid said, "I wanted to tell you about my falling out with Ronnie Anne."

"I'd like to hear about it," he said, "not to be a nosey gossip or anything."

Sid took a deep breath. "Well, it's kind of embarrassing. I mean…a little." She sighed. "But what happened was that, um…one time I told that I liked you. You know…like that. And she kind of took that as a threat, I think. She told me she was cool with an open relationship and offered to set up a date between us…"

"You and me?" Lincoln asked.

Sid nodded. "Yeah, but when I got to the restaurant, there was some random dude there. He was kind of creepy, but I said…why not? It's just a date, right?"

"Understandable," Lincoln said.

"Well, he wound up slipping something into my drink and trying to get me to go home with him. He actually grabbed me and tried to drag me out, but thankfully the bar tender scared him off and escorted me home. I went to Ronnie Anne the next day and she laughed in my face about it. I ran home in tears and cried my eyes out."

Lincoln was shocked into silence. Sid began to cry at the betrayal of her once best friend, and Lincoln did his best to console her, stopping and taking her into his arms. She pressed her face against his chest and he stoked her hair. She looked up at him with a tearful gaze and their eyes met. Lincoln cupped her cheek in his hand and went in for a kiss. She pushed up on her tippy toes to meet him and their lips brushed with an electric spark. Sid clung to the front of his shirt, perhaps to keep her balance, perhaps to keep from falling head over heels, and Lincoln deepened the kiss, their tongues softly massaging each other.

When they kiss broke, they smiled at each other. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time," Sid said. She grabbed his hand and twinned their fingers. "Let's go."

They walked home through the warm evening, pools of light cast by streetlamps illuinating the way. When they reached the apartment,m it was dark and quiet. As soon as the door was closed behind Lincoln, Sid pounced him like a hungey cat. Her mouth found his in the darkness and her tongue swept into his mouth, her hands slipping deftly underneath his shirt and exploring his warm chest. Lincoln almost lost his balance, but managed to keep himself upright and kissed her back.

With all the urgency of a firetruck screaming down the street, Sid pulled him toward his bedroom, fumbling at his belt and panting into his mouth. Passion overwhelmed the both of them, and they stumbled through the darkened apartment like a couple of drunks. Lincoln whipped her shirt off and tossed it aside, and Sid ripped his belt off and dropped it to the floor. In the feeble glow of a streetlight falling through the window, she wore a simple and unpretentious blue bra that stood out starkly against her creamy white skin. Lincoln caught only the briefest glimpse of her darkly sparkling eyes before she was kissing him again. Their tongues fought for dominance and for a second, it was more of a death sport than a kiss. She pulled him through the door to his bedroom, somehow avoiding crashing them in the dark, and they tumbled back onto the bed. Sid's hold on him broke and she bounced high.

She screamed and rolled off, hitting the floor with a thud. Lincoln snapped to a sitting position just as she began to laugh. He laughed too because it was kind of funny. He couldn't see so great but from what he had seen, she got some serious air. Her head popped up from beyond the foot of the bed. "I'm okay."

Getting to her knees, she crawled onto the bed and slunk toward him, again putting him in mind of a big feline stalking its prey. She crawled onto him and kissed him, pushing him back onto the bed and mounting him. Her knees caged his legs and her fragrant hair tickled his neck, the perfume of her scent enfolded him as if in a warm embrace. Sid ran her hands up and down his chest, the graze of her palms against his bare skin kicking sparks into his heart and making it beat faster. He ran his hands over the gentle slopes of her shoulders and then reached behind her back, finding her bra and unclasping it with minimal effort. It slid down her arms and she tossed it away, her small yet exquisitely crafted breasts falling free.

Somehow, in the heat of the moment, she pulled off her pants and panties. Naked, she arched her back, bent over, and trailed warm, wet kisses down Lincoln's stomach. Reaching the waistband of his pants, she unclasped the button, pulled down the zipper, and yanked them down. He lifted his butt off the bed to help, and she tugged the pants off. His erect dick sprang out, and she giggled. "Boooooiiiiiing," she said.

They both laughed.

She closed her hand around his shaft and the sensation of her touch almost made him gasp. Looking up at him, she teasingly licked the head like tasting a lolipop. Liking his flavor, she took him into her mouth and went down slow, her saliva coating him and the back of her velvety throat prodding his tip. Lincoln threw back his head and let out a long sigh as he ran his fingers through her hair. She bobbed her head up and down, faster, emitting muffled moans of pleasure and satisfaction.

Lincoln could enjoy her mouth forever, but her lust and desire, pent up for all these years, was too great for her to stand much longer. She spat him out, mounted him, and brought his dick to her opening. For a moment she paused, his dick pressing against her, their bodies poised on the cusp of joining. Perhaps she was having second thoughts, or perhaps she was relishing the moment and heightening her own anticipation. Either way, she jerked her hips down and sheathed him. They both moaned in unison, her body hotter, wetter, and tighter than Lincoln ever could have imagined. Sid pressed her hands to his chest and threw her head back, her silky walls rippling crazily around him and her body slightly twitching.

Curling her fingers against his chest, she lightly dragged her nails down his stomach and began to thrust. Lincoln held her breasts in his hands as she rode his dick faster and faster. He ghosted his thumbs over her nipples and took one into his mouth, licking and sucking it until it was stiff and swollen with desire. Sid toss her hair out of her face and leaned into to kiss him. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and, holding tight, rolled her onto her back, their bodies never breaking. Now she was beneath him, her legs spread wide and her tongue ravaging his mouth.

He hooked one of her legs and lifted it, her muscles tightening around him, and began to rut her. He wanted to start slowly and build his way up to a crashing crescendo of love and passion, but he couldn't contain himself. He slammed into her, making the bed shake and the headboard slap the wall, and Sid moaned in approval. Lincoln kissed the side of her throat and nibbled her ear, pounding harder and harder. She wrapped her legs around his hips, slapped her hands on the headboard, and pushed against him, taking him all the way to the hilt. Lincoln felt himself starting to cum and tried to hold back, but it was too late, he was going whether he wanted to or not. He tried to pull away, but Sid, perhaps sensing what was about to happen, tightened her hold on him. Burying his face in the crook of her shoulder, Lincoln came so hard that he cried out. Sid moaned and rocked against him, as if trying to squeeze out every last drop.

He rolled off of her and they cuddled for a while, sleepy, sticky, and covered in sweat. They talked in a quiet, drowsy sort of way, but soon their passions rose again. This time, it was softer and sweeter, love making instead of frentic, needy sex as before. They took turns being on top, Lincoln first and then Sid. Lincoln laid back and admired the way her body flexed and tensed as she lifted and lowered herself onto his dick. He ran his thumbs over her nipples and grazed them along her sleek fanlks. When he was on top, he held her hands above her head, their fingers intertwined, and kissed her deeply, affectionately. The second time, they came in unison, and as their passions cooled, they held each other.

Soon, they were asleep.

Across the apartment, in her room, Nikki listened to the sounds of their lovemaking until she was flushed with fever and bitterly disappointed that he was with Sid and not her. Propping her legs up in an M, she reached between her thighs and lazily rubbed herself. As the sounds grew louder and more furious, she rubbed harder and harder. When she came, her orgasm ripped through her like a bomb blast and she bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out.

Rolling onto her side, she held a pillow to her chest and imagined it was Lincoln.

Soon, she thought, it really would be.