Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction concocted entirely within my imagination. Any resemblance to real people shouldn't be surprising since most of my stories are based on people I know. While I hope you enjoy this story and are compelled to provide feedback, I don't expect the subject matter will appeal to everyone who reads it. As such, I discourage venomous, nasty feedback full of violent wishes against essentially fictional characters in fictional situations. If this story does not appeal to you, there is undoubtedly one somewhere on Literotica that will, so your energy will be better spent on finding it rather than on vilifying me.
The previous summer, I had been pleasantly surprised by the opportunity to live for free for a month in Seaside Heights and have all of my living expenses covered, including all the alcohol I could possibly desire. I was astounded to not only be paid a salary in addition but to also make even more money promoting the reality show that resulted from that month of my life. When I was invited to sign on for another season, which would start in Miami Beach and pay even more, I was dumbfounded.
It hadn't been all that long since I'd seen my former roommates due to all of the promotion for the first season of our show. Still, when I showed up at our new place in Miami Beach, it was nice to see them all again. We'd gotten along extremely well even though we were all pretty certain that I'd been cast as the "anti-guido" so I was happy to have been invited back. We soon realized that there was somebody else whose invitation to return was an even bigger surprise: Angelina. She'd bailed from the Seaside house pretty early in our stay there and we hadn't seen her again until the reunion special. None of us had expected to see her back and it was pretty obvious that the guys never gave it much of a second thought, but the other girls seemed pretty put out by her return.
Personally, I didn't treat Angelina any differently than I treated anyone else; so as long as she didn't piss me off, I was fine with her being there. When she did piss me off, she wasn't the only one to experience my wrath, because there was a whole lot of shit going on that involved almost everyone in the house. Mike was fed up with cleaning the place up all the time in addition to cooking for just about everyone. I tried to make a point of cleaning up my own messes and trying to chip in if we were having a group meal. Unfortunately, not everyone else stepped up in the same way. It was when people started outright lying about what they were or were not doing in the house that I'd finally had enough. I slammed my beer down on the countertop to get everyone's attention, then jumped up onto the counter so everyone could see me and hear me.
"Everybody shut the fuck up for a minute," I loudly requested over the arguments, "I saw Mike cleaning up this place this morning and, despite your protests, I never saw one of you lift a finger to help him. I know Mike didn't turn this place into the shithole that it has been lately and when he has made a mess, it is usually because he is cooking for all of you guys. Now, I have tried to just mind my own business and clean up my own messes while you all let yours grow into mountains of dishes in the sink and whatever the hell this green thing is on the floor but when I not only see Mike cleaning up after you guys but hear you arguing that he's not, that's it, man. Maybe you're all used to having somebody take care of you at home but that shit ends now. When you're back living under your mom's roof, your mom will take care of you but, in the meantime, get off your asses and start pulling your weight around here."
I jumped down off the counter to a stunned silence, grabbed my beer and went outside, slamming the door behind me. I was fired up and it took a lot to get me to that point. I just needed some time to myself to settle down. I found the farthest corner of the yard and lay on my back on a stone bench that was there in the shadows near the wall. I don't know how much time passed, but I had calmed down pretty much when I heard somebody's footsteps approaching. I didn't realize it was Angelina until she spoke.
"What are you doing out here?" she asked.
"I'm trying to find my happy place," I replied without opening my eyes.
"Your happy place is on a hard, stone bench?" she asked.
"My happy place is somewhere in my mind," I replied, thinking that she was not the brightest bulb. I opened eyes and looked her over. She was wearing a tight, tropical-print dress and, not for the first time, I was thinking that her body wasn't too bad.
