Maybe we should hit rewind and start this whole thing from the beginning. No, I don’t mean from the very beginning like, from the cradle, either.

I mean from when my idiotic sometimes I’m more than sure is brain dead older brother decided to have a destination wedding instead a normal one at home. Ever since his supposedly free app went viral and became a billionaire he felt the need to show off just how much money he had.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s still the same old Max: quirky nerd with a huge heart on the inside, handsome goof with a ton of money on the outside. And I couldn’t truly harbor any type of jealousy towards him, because thanks to him not only was I able to successfully launch my writing career, but also open my own printing press and publishing company that was now even giving MacMillan a run for its money. It was a win win: we both got to do the things we loved to do and get paid big bucks. We had it made. The two kids from Detroit who usually never won at any damn thing had truly come up in the world. And yes, we still stayed in Detroit, not some suburb like Canton or Farmington Hills.

Which is why I was shocked to shit when he told me he had someone for me to meet. Of course I agreed; not only had he struck my curiosity, but who was I to turn down free drinks? Max always picked up the tab since before he made it big; I used to be the one picking up his. So, even though we both have no longer have any money worries, that was just his way of saying thank you.

We met up at The Bullfrog, a karaoke joint we used to go to, one that had an actual real live band to sing with. Him being the punctual one that was always the first to every party, me being the one who couldn’t arrive on time for anything (I was even born two weeks late according to our mom) he was already there.

The fact that he was there already isn’t what surprised me. The chick he was on the stage singing with and making googly eyes at was. And there was no mistaking her as being some random girl he met at the bar either, not with the way their eyes kept locking on to one another. It was so sickeningly sweet it was nauseating, but it was the happiest I’d seen him in a long time.

The place wasn’t packed, just a fair sized crowd, which is what we liked most about it. Looking past the actual bar to the sitting area I saw Max’s best friends Donny and Chase waving me over. As I walked towards them I went over a mental checklist in my head of what I needed to do the next day, so that I knew when I would have to cut myself off.

“Be glad you’re just now getting here, they’ve been up there twice already,” Donny told me in his usual casually arrogant tone as I sat down with a feigned look of horror on his face.

Under his breath I vaguely heard Chase mutter, “Like you could do any better,” before turning to me saying, “Hey, Justine, you been okay?” Just as I was getting ready to wave the waitress over he stopped me saying, “Already ordered your Long Island, light ice extra lemon, when I saw you walking in.”

“My hero,” was my response to that as I sighed and truly relaxed in my seat. I caught him blushing just a tad out the corner of my eye. He’d had a crush on me since high school, though he always did his best to hide his blush. The poor thing was so light he was almost white, so fat chance on that. “Been okay, just another long day at the office. But I still love every minute of it.”

“Drinks on you tonight?” came from Donny. I swear I don’t know why Max was friends with him. I know Chase felt the same way. The two of them, Chase and Donny, were only friends by default thanks to Max. I’m sure Donny didn’t even notice, with as into himself as he was.

The two of them were complete opposites in every sense. Donny was the type of guy that exuded conceited arrogance in his wake, completely unwarranted. I mean, dude was cute, but not drop dead gorgeous. It’s like some chick gave him a compliment that blew up his head and it still hadn’t deflated from it. Wish I could find her so I could give hers a swift kick. Standing at about five feet eleven, he was the shortest of their little trio, milk chocolate skin, dark brown judgmental eyes behind a pair of outdated glasses, a predatory-looking mustache, and slim without any true muscles. He reminded me of a young Samuel L. Jackson. They’d known each other from grade school and been inseparable ever since. I never understood it, and stopped trying a long, long time ago.

Then there was Chase. In high school, which is where they met and turned their dynamic duo into a trio, he was the dumpy, slightly overweight kid with an extreme case of acne who hadn’t learned quite yet what to do with his height. After following behind Max to the gym however, that weight had turned into muscle and he was well-adjusted to his height. If anyone should have been arrogant it was him, but he was just the opposite. Chase was light skinned with dark brown curly hair, with friendly hazel eyes with tiny green flecks and a set of full, plush lips that you could tell were soft just by looking at them, strong jawline with a slight cleft. He never seemed to notice women flirting with him. He was always clean shaven whenever I saw him, so I sometimes wondered what he would look like with a mustache and a goatee. One would almost think him a pretty boy if not for that hard, muscular six foot five frame. It’s not even like he tried showing his muscles off or anything, but you’d have to be blind not to notice them. He was still the quiet, shy type. Which in my opinion just made him all the more attractive. Not that I would ever tell him that. That would make things all too awkward. Plus, my track record with men left much to be desired.

Once they finally bellowed the last chord and only one or two people out of the deadpan crowd started clapping, the three of us stood and joined in with gusto, whistling, and shouting for the two of them. Well, honestly, it was mostly for Max. “So who is this chick?” I asked them when we sat down, as Max and Mystery Girl stepped off the stage. “What do you know about her?”

“Not a damn thing,” Donny answered me, “except that her name is Chelsea. When they weren’t on the stage they were busy studying the books to decide on which one to sing, and in what order. They even sang a few practice bars.” He shuddered before slouching down lower in his chair and taking a swig from his beer bottle.

When the duo made it to the table I stood up to give Max a hug, only to be bulldozed into the gigantic chest of a bouncing, slightly freckle-faced redhead, Chelsea. I think she said hi or something, but I was too distracted with my face being smashed by boobs that were even bigger than mine. Not something that happened too often. Made me wish I had kept on my heels from work instead of slipping on my combat boots.

When I was finally released from her almost lethal embrace I gave her a once-over and was almost blinded by the florescent pink dress she was wearing. It was so bright I just about wanted to take out my contacts to tone it down for my poor eyeballs.

Before I had a chance to recover Max grabbed me into his huge beefcake arms. “Hey, Sis.”

“So, who’s the Amazon?” I whispered in his ear.

“Ha. Ha,” was his only reply before releasing me from my second bear hug of the night. Meaning the answer was probably going to be one that I didn’t like.

I sat back down and grabbed my drink. The waitress must have brought it over while I was busy being crushed. I took a couple long sips and looked at the two of them still standing and holding hands. “Y’all gonna sit down anytime soon?” I said on a slight laugh.

When I saw Max take in a deep breath, I downed another long sip. “Well, first, I have an announcement to make. We’re getting married.”

When Chelsea squealed, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do more: throw up or scream.