Subscriber Wars: An Enemies-to-Lovers-Romantic Comedy

by Kristy Marie

  My chest clenches. I might like to aggravate him, but I don’t like seeing him miserable and in pain. “You want to try drinking something?”

  He shakes his head, not bothering to lift it. “Not really.”

  I set the cup down and sigh. “What about a popsicle? Think you can suck on one of those?”

  Slowly, that head of sandy blonde hair rises until I can see his grin. “What kind?”

  I look at the ceiling, fighting my own grin. “Strawberry.”

  His face scrunches.

  “Fine, I have lime, your favorite.”

  We’ve always fought over the lime popsicles. You can’t find many in lime flavor, but when I did, this ass would eat them all.

  “I’ll take it.”

  Of course he will.

  I open his freezer where I stashed the popsicles and pull out a green one, unwrap it, and hand it over. He gives it a once over and then pushes it between his lips. His real girlfriend would think it was a shame that he looks so hot eating a popsicle when he’s sick as shit. His fake girlfriend would tend to agree with her.

  “I brought your pillow back,” I tell him, tipping my chin to the sofa. “But it’s only a supervised visit. It goes back when I go back.”

  I’m not that nice. If he doesn’t want to give me my chair, then he certainly isn’t getting his pillow.

  “How generous of you,” he teases, getting up and heading to the couch. He doesn’t even bother with the blanket. He just flops down, stomach first, and tucks his pillow under his head the best he can with one hand.

  I bite my cheek. “Let me help you.” I tug the blanket out from under him and lay it over his body. He makes a contented sound. “Eat the popsicle, Bash. You need some kind of fluids.”

  He brings the popsicle to his mouth and sucks, all the while watching me. “Were you using your binoculars this morning?”

  And he’s good now.

  I fold my arms. “No. I was using my watch when you didn’t show for lunch.”

  He nods and, this time, takes a small bite of the popsicle. “I haven’t had one of these in forever.” He moans.

  And I know why. They remind him of me and that’s something he tries hard not to do.

  “You want to watch something or get some sleep?”

  I set the remote next to him and he rolls over. “Are you leaving?”

  I really should. “Umm…”

  “Don’t.”

  It’s not a request or a demand. It’s simply a plea that guts me straight to the core. “Okay.”

  I tip my chin to his room. “I’ll go straighten up while you eat and rest.” I make the sign of the cross on my chest. “I promise not to snoop, steal, or poison anything while I’m in there.”

  Sebastian grins but doesn’t comment. His color is looking better and with his pillow back, he looks like a happy Bash-hole.

  I walk off and proceed to straighten up his bathroom and change the sheets on his bed. Heaven only knows when the last time he changed those. When I’m finished, I turn and almost run into a hard body. “You scared me,” I say, putting my hand to my chest.

  “You watch too many scary movies.”

  I shake my head. “Not lately. Someone has my chair.”

  He nods to the bathroom. “You can use it while you’re here. Consider it a thank you for hiring incompetent people to kill me.”

  I send him a glare that has no bite behind it. “How sweet of you,” I lie.

  He shrugs. “I try.”

  I notice the popsicle stick in his hand. “You want another one?”

  He grimaces. “No, thank you.”

  “Are you still feeling nauseous?”

  He wiggles his hand, the universal sign for “so-so.”

  I take the stick from him and motion to the bed. “Why don’t you try sleeping some?”

  He eyes the bed longingly and I know he wants to. “I’ll come back later and check on you.”

  His cheek twitches. “Or you could stay and watch a movie in your chair?”

  Ugh. The man makes a good point. “You don’t think I will stab you in your sleep?”

  He grins. “Nah, you only strike when it’s dark.”

  His grin falls in an instant, and I know he’s thinking about all those times I tried to prank him.

  “I’ll just go,” I say. “You won’t rest with me here.”

  Frankly, neither will I. I’ll probably stare at him the whole time instead of my movie.

  “Go get your stupid chair. You know you aren’t leaving.” He lumbers over to the bed and climbs in. I watch as he burrows down in his sheets, his eyes closing instantly.

  For a man who is a whiny bitch about his pillow, he sure forgets it a lot.

  I walk out to the living room and grab his drink and pillow, taking them back to the bedroom. I set the Gatorade on the bedside table and he stirs.

  “Do you want your pillow?”

  He nods, and I slide it under his head. “Try drinking just a sip of this Gatorade,” I encourage, and when he doesn’t shut me down, I grab the cup and ease it to his lips, but he stops me. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  He falls back onto the pillow. “Don’t help me anymore. Don’t remind me…”

  He doesn’t finish his statement. He doesn’t need to. I know exactly what he doesn’t want me to remind him of.

  We’ve been in this situation before. Back when we were friends.

  “Don’t start. I’m not letting this kill you before I can.” I know a little case of food poisoning won’t kill him, but I had to say something to steer the conversation back into new friend territory.

  That makes him crack a smile. “I knew you cared.”

  He’s had to know I’ve always cared. That was the reason I blew the prank in the first place.

  “Here.” I push the glass into his hand and wrap his fingers around it. “You got it?”

  He nods, the icy frost of his blue eyes watching me as I pull the blankets up to his chest before he stops me with his hand, his fingers stroking down my face. “How did I not know?” he mumbles to himself, while the back of his hand grazes my cheekbone, stopping just before my lips.

  I swallow a couple times, but my voice doesn’t make a sound.

  Sebastian Carrington has always been the biggest pain in my ass, but he’s the only one who’s ever really known me. He may hate me for what I did to him, but he has to know we have history that no one can ever erase. We have something few people ever get to experience. No amount of time, hate, or separation will ever change that.

  We’ll be forever haunted with the memories of each other.

  His eyes close, as if he forced them to stop staring at me. “Go watch your movie, Vee.”

  I nod and pull away, making my way to the bathroom as fast as I can. I drag my chair out into his bedroom and sit, pulling my knees up under me. It occurs to me that I don’t have my iPad, and while I have my phone, it’s just not the same. So I decide to sit quietly until Sebastian falls asleep. Then I can go back to my house and check in on him later.

  It’s what we both need.

  “You know where my iPad is,” he says sleepily. “Use my login if you want to. You should still be able to remember all the passwords—you created them.”

  I fight the stupid flurries in my stomach. They have no place in there right now.

  “Don’t be stubborn, Valentina.”

  I chuckle and stand, going to the trunk that he uses to lock up his expensive shit at parties. I lift the heavy lid and there I find, not only his iPad, but the pajamas I gave him for his birthday.

  “You kept them,” I whisper.

  He grunts. “They make for good packing material.”

  University CamFlix Competition Submission

  Entry Number: 75

  Sebastian and Valentina

  Second Interview, or those three minutes that I was glad I applied extra deodorant

  “Thanks for coming in, guys,” Tom says, ushering us into his off
ice. “We wanted to touch base with all of our competitors since the contest started.”

  I lean back on the plush sofa and tug Vee’s tense ass down with me. “No problem. What can we answer for you today?” I hope it’s not something that will send Vee off into a bitching fit. I can’t take another one of those wonderful car rides home.

  “I thought you could answer some fan questions. You two have garnered quite the fanbase so far.”

  I nod slowly, dreading what questions we might be tasked with answering. “Sure. Hit us with what you’ve got.”

  I knock my knee into Vee’s and she knocks mine back harder than is necessary.

  “Sarah from MyView asked, ‘When did you know you loved Valentina?’”

  I smile at the camera trained on Vee and me. “Hmm… Well, probably when she asked me for some Vaseline. Her thighs were chafed, you see—”

  “I’m not doing that.”

  I nudge Valentina’s hip with mine. After a nice nap with my pillow, I’m feeling much better. So much so that my energy has returned and I’m using every bit of it to convince Vee to do one of the popular MyView dances.

  “Don’t tell me you suck at dancing too?” I tease.

  I guess it’s possible that someone sucks at dancing and singing, but I’m thinking Vee’s hesitation is more shyness than lack of moves. But that’s just a guess. I could be totally wrong about her, like I have been many times before.

  “I don’t suck at dancing, thank you very much.” Her lips purse and she sends me a glare that I’m pretty sure relays that I can eat shit. “I just think those dances are silly.”

  I tilt my head to the side, looking for the real reason she doesn’t want to dance with me. “Is it because you feel bad that you paid your friend, Juan, to poison my food?” I shake my head and give her a quick pat on the back. “I told you, it’s fine. I know you meant to. I’m just happy you had a change of heart and came over here to nurse me back to health.”

  I knew that last comment would get to her.

  Her mouth drops open, and she finally faces me. “That’s not at all what happened. First of all, I did not come over to nurse you back to health.”

  Didn’t she?

  “Second of all, I can’t help it that you have a weak stomach and can’t digest anything but your organic rice bars.”

  I belt out a laugh. “Why do you hate on my organic food? I can’t help what’s on sale at the grocery store.”

  I also can’t help what my sister buys and shoves in my fridge. All I know is that I didn’t have to go to the store, and, most days, I don’t have to worry about not having anything to eat. Although, for the most part, I can’t eat the majority of it, but I would never tell my sister that. It makes her feel better knowing she’s taking care of me, so I let her do what she wants.

  “I’m not hating on your food,” she finally says. “I just…”

  “You just what? Thought I didn’t eat because I’m a demon?”

  She narrows her eyes. “I know you eat, dummy. I used to eat with you, remember?”

  I feel myself tense. We’re creeping into the no-go zone again.

  “I’m just saying it doesn’t fit with your personality.”

  “Maybe that’s because you don’t know everything about me like you think you do.” I push up from the sofa. “I think I’ll go lie down again and spend the last few minutes with my pillow before you leave.”

  I think we’ve had enough time together. Any more and we’re liable to start full-out arguing for the rest of the day.

  “Sebastian,” she says, exasperated. “Come back.”

  She’s always been the one to feel guilty when she acts shitty. It’s a terrible trait to have.

  “I’m good. We’ll reschedule our strategy meeting for tomorrow.”

  I just want her to go—far, far away. At least until tomorrow.

  With an exasperated sigh, she mumbles something I can’t quite catch.

  “Did you say something?” I prod.

  Her mouth purses and she gives me a flat look. “I said, fine. I’ll do that stupid dance with you.”

  Valentina’s guilt is a dangerous tool to use against her, but since I love to see her uncomfortable, I’m going to use it for my own selfish desires. Consider it payback for ordering the salmonella fish tacos. I push off the doorframe and shrug. “If you must. I think I can muster up enough energy for one dance.”

  She rolls her eyes, and it sends a stupid amount of excitement through me.

  I hope she sucks. I hope she has the rhythm of a newborn.

  Fishing my phone from my pocket, I nod to her. “Go get my tripod.” I act like I know where she hid it, but in full disclosure, I’ve yet to find the damn thing. This way, I’ll get both things I want from Valentina.

  She grumbles to herself but gets up and pushes past me to head to my room. I follow her and see her get on her knees. My dick twitches, and I cough. “Hurry,” I tell her, “I’m getting tired.” And hard. The last thing I need to explain to my enemy is that seeing her kneel at the side of my bed makes my dick a throbbing missile in my pants.

  “Would you shut up and just go sit down? If you didn’t hoard all those old movie mementos under your bed, I wouldn’t have to pull a muscle trying to get the tripod out.”

  “Who hid the tripod under the bed?” I argue. “Lay off my memorabilia. One day it will hang in my studio office.”

  Ugh. I cringe as soon as I say it. Those words were what the old Sebastian would say to the old Valentina.

  “It’s still a bunch of shit to comb through in the meantime. No wonder you need an entire townhouse to yourself. You have way too much shit.”

  And a guilty sister with a doctor husband. She wanted a place she could check up on me and traipsing through the dorms was where she drew the line.

  “I keep hearing a lot of talking but no tripod,” I chide. “I’ll meet you in the living room when you finally manage to retrieve it.”

  Really, I just want to get out of here since she’s slid partly under the bed, and her ass is sticking up and although it’s partially covered by her hoodie, I can still see the curve of her cheek, peeking out from underneath the fray of her jean shorts.

  Yes, another room is good. And cold water. And visions of grandma.

  “Thank goodness,” she returns, her voice muffled from under the bed. “You’re getting on my nerves.”

  Ditto.

  I turn from the door, leaving Valentina in her search for my shit and flop down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. My dick is calmer without her ass all perky in front of us, but he’s longing for another peek, even though we both know it would be terrible for our sanity. Her pretending to be my girlfriend for eight weeks will fuck me up. Looking at her ass for longer than necessary might irrevocably damage the desire to ever look at another ass that isn’t hers.

  It’s best my dick and I stay put right out here.

  “Found it!” she hollers from the bedroom.

  I grin. She hid the damn thing pretty well. I would have never found it on my own.

  “‘Bout time!”

  “Shut up. Why do you always have to be such a dick?” Her voice is close, and I jerk my head to the side and see her standing right above me.

  “What are you? A ninja? Make noise and whine like most girls,” I say, glaring at my dusty tripod in her hand.

  “I think you do enough whining for the both of us,” she pops back, blowing a dust ball off the tripod before extending the legs and setting it up. “Where do you want to do this lame dance?”

  This is why I’m going to hell.

  “On the back patio.” I grin.

  “No.” Her voice is firm, and I knew that would be her response. In fact, I was counting on it.

  I sigh, running my hand through my hair. It’s mussed because I was too busy keeping myself upright in the shower to give a fuck about combing it when I got out. “We’ll just have to do it in my bedroom.” Where I wanted all along.

  “Why?�
�� Her voice raises, making my dick hard again. “Why can’t we do it right here in the living room?”

  I stand and adjust my crotch. “Because I don’t have a full-length mirror in here and I need to see what I’m doing.” I give her body a cursory glance. “I can’t post a video when we aren’t in sync.”

  Frankly, I just want to watch her.

  “I also think it’d be a perfect video to post showcasing our new relationship.” I flash her a smirk that I know gets on her nerves. “Don’t you think?”

  I have zero ideas about how this plan of mine is supposed to work. All I know is that our fans go crazy when they see us together. So while there were only rumors of us from the party, I solidified them last night after Vee and I had Juan take a picture of us sitting together under the Edison lights in the parking lot, sharing a romantic (insert eye roll here) dinner in the parking lot before the salmonella kicked in.

  Afterward, Vee came over and we drank a little moonshine until we were both tipsy enough to edit the picture and post it. As you can imagine, the photo went viral, and when I woke up this morning, I had several emails regarding potential new ads and sponsorships on my page.

  So, while I might not have a plan for how to go about winning this contest, I do know that the ‘non-plan’ is working. Vee and I are dominating the internet again. And although the picture we posted was not part of the contest, it ramped up our followers so that when we do post our entry as a team, we’ll bring both of our fan bases along with us and kick Malcolm’s ass out of the running.

  Vee looks up to the ceiling, something she does when she’s thinking. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  My stomach dips. “Did you just say—”

  She doesn’t let me finish. “Shut up and do not say another word.” She shakes her head. “What I’m saying is that I agree that keeping our fanbases happy will not only increase the believability of us as a couple, but it would also help our numbers when we post our entry video.”

  See? I told you I was right. If your fans love you as a couple, they will support anything you do, and if we have a bad ‘breakup’ then, hopefully, they pick sides and stay with me to nurse my ‘broken heart.’