Enter Player Name: NOAH

Saying that I was in deep shit did not do justice to the situation.

"Uggh," I grunted, letting my head smack against the wet tiled wall. There was no winning against these invading thoughts.

I stepped out of the shower. The water dripped off my body and onto the floor. Not bothering to dry off, I slipped on a pair of dark gray sweatpants. The soft fabric clung to my damp skin as I entered my room. It was still empty, just white walls, a mattress on the floor, and a half-assembled desk on the right. The will to unpack swiftly escaped me last night when... when she happened.

Riley. That cursed woman and cause of my current predicament.

I had seen her before she noticed me. The way her gaze burned holes into my wall of boxes almost made me burst into laughter. A vein threatened to pop out of her forehead as she tried to will the cardboard to grow legs and walk away.

When she finally made her way up and said hello, I got a good look at those beautiful and rich hazel eyes. Gazing into them was like watching warm honey caramelize. Her milky chocolate hair cascaded messily, framing her lightly sun-kissed face and enhancing her earthy colors. My eyes wanted to drift down and follow the voluptuous curves outlined by her tightly fitted dress.

But then...

All traces of my attraction to her were crushed to rubble after she broke my high-end gaming computer. Surely, an omen that I should not pursue her. She was the devil incarnate dressed in sheep's clothing. How could one single woman cause so much damage?

Which brought me to my current dilemma: a broken fifteen thousand dollar computer. What the hell was I going to do? Since yesterday, I have progressed through the seven stages of grief. Right now, I was at acceptance. Acceptance that I am royally screwed, and not in the way that I enjoyed.

"NOAH!"

The sound of pounding against my front door vibrated throughout my apartment, forcing me out of my self-induced misery.

I glided out of the bedroom and towards the front door, excited to see the owner of the voice. "Mom! What are you doing here?"

I pulled her diminutive form into a bear hug, causing her to wobble the pot in her hands.

"Noah!" She scorned, yet her blue eyes brightened with joy.

I held her tightly, careful not to stain her fancy yellow Dior dress. Her ash gray hair was neatly pinned into a bun, not a strand out of place. She pulled back and wiped her face, scowling at the water drops on her fingertips.

"Noah! You're damp. What have I told you about getting out of the shower without drying? You're going to make yourself ill!" She barked, raising her voice at the end for emphasis.

"I'll be fine, mom. More importantly, what do we have here? Some of your famous stew, I hope." I took the pot from her hands and walked inside. My mouth watered as my taste buds tingled with anticipation — a perfect blend of spices and herbs.

Her soft footsteps clacked against the floor as she followed, rambling about this and that. "Also, put on a shirt. You will poke someone's eye out with your chest like that."

"You know, mom, I live in my own place now. You can't exactly just tell me what to do anymore." I smiled and watched my comment crawl under her skin.

Her shoulders shifted. "I am your mother, Noah." She waved her finger in my face. "I will always tell you what to do. Whether you listen to me or not is an entirely different battle."

Ah, yes, the battle over the newest reason I was a disappointment. I looked around for any trenches to hide in while she readied her ammunition for the looming war.

Her blue eyes scanned the apartment. With the precision of a hawk, she looked for any imperfection to be pointed out and fixed. Her nose wrinkled. Presumably, my newest accommodations didn't match her standard of adequate living.

Her piercing gaze landed on the broken computer pieces. I groaned as I saw it coming.

"Oh, my Lord!"

Here it comes.

She erupted like a volcano.

"Noah, what in heaven's name happened to your computer!" Her hands held the sides of her face as a storm brewed in her head — a perfect recreation of the scream painting.

I choked down a laugh. "My neighbor was helping me move in, and she accidentally dropped it."

"What? Does she know how expensive that computer was?" She put her hand on her waist, assuming her fighting stance. "Is she going to reimburse you?"

"I don't know. I didn't clarify things after it happened. I was in... mourning." I placed my hand over my heart and gave her the most sorrowful face I could muster.

She was not amused.

"Be serious for a second, Noah." She lightly smacked my shoulder. "Are you not required to return it to your old employers? You know what, I can have our lawyers give her a call!"

She looked ready to storm out of my place, guns blazing, and hunt down my new neighbor. It surprised me how much she cared about money, considering she owned so much. It reminded me that this was not always the case. She fought for and earned every single cent she held in her purse. As she liked to say, no mountain of food can erase the memory that hunger, experienced over many years, burns into your stomach.

I admired her so much for everything she achieved. However, at the same time, I was envious.

Sometimes, I wondered what I had accomplished that was all my own.

"Mom." I cradled her face in my hands like she used to do when I was a child. "I'm a grown man. I can handle this myself. You will just have to trust me." I kissed her forehead before letting her go.

"Noah, I do trust you. But you have to admit that your decisions of late have been more than highly questionable. As much as I want to, I am having a difficult time supporting them." My mom's voice quivered, so unlike herself.

"I can see how it would seem like that to you." I sighed and returned to my current task of heating the stew.

There was no point in letting her words consume me with doubt. I'd spent days contemplating what to do before concluding that I needed a new start. One that was my own. I won't let her make me question that.

"Well, then help your dear mother understand. You were doing so well; you had a decent job, a good fiancé, and surely a better apartment than this place." Her eyes inevitably looked around, needing to remind herself where she stood because otherwise, she wouldn't believe it. "Then, all of a sudden, you throw it all away, and for what? This?"

My choice to abandon everything in my life puzzled everyone within my inner circle — most of all, my now ex-fiancé. At the time, it seemed like we were two peas in a pod and had a perfect future waiting for us. It surprised me how easy it was to cut her out of my life. I thought I would feel heartbroken, but it felt like a heavy weight lifted off my shoulders.

Perhaps it was so easy to leave her behind because, just like my job and apartment, our relationship just happened. A side effect of my mother's wealth and everything I would inherit. Not that Cynthia was a gold-digger, but I doubt she would see me as more than a quick lay if my pockets weren't well stashed.

So, I never had to work for it.

My mother taught me that the things that had the most value were the ones you had to build and grow.

The fact that I've never done that hit me when I overheard my boss say that the best thing he ever did was hire me. Not because of my work ethic or my enthusiasm for what I did, but for the added benefit of having direct access to my mother's company.

"As I told you when I left, I want to make something of my own. This company is something that I have wanted to build for a long time. It's time I take a chance on it."

"If you care about building this idea of yours, then get your life back on track. Accept my offer, and get back together with Cynthia. I can't support this early midlife crisis you seem to be experiencing." She waved her fingers around again as if directing an orchestra, or directing me to be accurate.

"I don't want your money if it comes with conditions. Besides, Mom, you can't solve all my problems. I think at twenty-six, I should learn how to stand on my own two feet."

Her mouth sealed shut. She tapped her fingers on her waist, and her chest rose as she tried to find a way to dance around the logic of my statement. She sighed loudly. "Let's move on from that topic for now since we are not getting anywhere. Why don't you tell me about your new company? Maybe I can offer you some advice?"

We sat there, calmly sipping on the warm, rich stew.

But my mom's eyes were anything but calm; they dilated with excitement at the ideas that I shared. She fired question after question, and her proud smile grew more prominent with every answer. I couldn't deny that it felt great to know that she believed in me.

I grew up admiring my mother and the empire she sculpted with her bare hands. I will make her as proud of me as I was of her.

As I ate, my mind wandered again.

How the hell was I going to find fifteen thousand dollars to reimburse my ex-employers for the broken computer? I already spent most of my own money on my gaming startup. Just renting the office essentially milked me dry.

I could always ask my parents for the money - it was hardly anything to them - but that would defeat the purpose of what I was trying to do. Not to mention that at the end of the day, my mother was a businesswoman. A damn good one. She would use it as leverage to get me to do what she wanted.

I guess there was always being a gigolo.