By this time I'd wasted a good hour of doing nothing on staring at that stupid book. It's just a book, nothing in it, yet. Oh yes, let's all gawk at the infamous advertiser intimidated by a blank book! I'm not intimidated, just damn lazy. Do you have any idea just how much this is going to suck? Of course not, you don't even know what the hell I'm going on about. Great, now I'm talking to myself. Shut the hell up Von!

"Doing another monologue in your head? Why aren't you an actor?" Brandon was leaning against my doorframe. "Seriously. You're so dramatic sometimes I wonder why you chose to work at "The Company" instead of in a company."

"It's all Nicki's fault you know. Him and his damn psychology degree. He's using it for evil, thinking that now that he's a real psychologist, he can psychoanalyze me all he wants," I said, glaring at the damn book.

"What kind of hellish torture is he inflicting on you now?" he said, crossing his arms.

"He's making me write down my life's story."

"Ooooh, that sounds horrible!" Brandon laughed.

"You know, murder and abuse are not things one wants to revisit. He thinks it'll help me with my identity crisis." I kicked my chair around, propping my feet on my desk. "Well don't just stand there; if you want to know sit down. And shut the door, I don't need my personal life broadcast to the masses." Brandon of course did as he was told; he was a good lackey.

"You? The so-called hottest man to ever walk the earth? You're having an identity crisis? Oh no!"

"Shut up! Yes, I'm freaking out. I have to ad to work on, making sure my minions don't suck at their jobs, Nicki's trying to find a job, I have repairs to make on the house, Nicki's friend Persephone- you know, the weird one who's around all the time?- is around all the freaking time, and, oh yeah, I've got a wedding to plan! Of all things, a god damn wedding! It's not that I don't want to, well I don't want to, it's that Nicki wants to. Personally, I think it's a ridiculous waste of time and money, not to mention that it's illegal anyway, and I'd rather just continue on as we are."

"Wow. You are suffering. So what, you're reconsidering whether or not to be gay?"

"I don't know that I am! Come on, I don't drool over other guys; I sure as hell don't flirt with them, and I still like women. The new intern, damn."

"We all agree with you there," he smirked.

"In the same turn, I love Nicki. I know that. It sucks. He thinks it's because of my repressive childhood, all this confusion. That's why he wants me to go back and get it all down. It might relieve the stress or some shit like that. This is what I get for marrying a psychologist!"

"And what if you're not gay?"

"Then I'm off the hook I guess. He's given me free range. I can do whatever I want."

"Anything?" Brandon arched a brow in surprise.

"Anything. I have to find my purpose after all. Starting with the stupid book."

"How are you going to write it?"

"I guess like a memoir. It's interesting enough. Maybe I'll publish it one day. Now get the hell out of my office! You have work to do!"

He stared up at me in mock terror before we both burst into laughter. Work, ha! Brandon did leave though, shutting the door behind him. He was such a nerd, but he was the only one who knew the truth about Nicki. No, not the crazy supernatural crap. I don't even believe it and I was there. He knew Nicholas Gray was, in fact, my boyfriend. Well no shit, I told him about the wedding.

I finally opened the book. I would probably need another one before I got half way through my life. Here I sit, the modern Dorian Grey, in black suit and black tie, bits of metal pierced through my ears and tongue, a successful advertiser ready to write a book. I'd better get something out of this