Hi. I'm Jeremy Furr. What am I doing currently?

Well, I'm looking, no, I'm studying myself in the mirror. Almost every person I have ever met has tried to oversell themselves at one point, but honestly I can tell you for a fact that I put the A in average. I have one of those faces that looks a little bit like every other guy, if you saw me walking down the street you would have sworn you saw me on the bus then dismiss the thought as irrelevant right afterwards.

That being said, I can not, for the life of me, even begin to fathom the reason why someone like Carissa Kelley decided to date me. It might've made a little more sense if she was just another average Joe like me, but Carissa debuted as a singer two months ago. And I kid you not; this woman has the most angelic voice anyone has ever heard. Ask any of her fans and even her manager if you want.

But it's not even her singing that made me fall in love with her. It's the way her eyes light up every time she sees me, the way I can hear the happiness she feels when she sings, and the lyrics to convey how much she loves me. She even told me that the new album she's producing is going to be dedicated to me.

So even though we've only been dating for four months, I was going to propose to her. I know what you're thinking. Way too soon… but I don't care. What I feel for Carissa is ineffable. When I look at her, I just…know. She's the one and I want to make damn well sure that I married her as soon as possible.

My stomach did some impressive air-kicks to talk me out of it, and my brain were raising questions that weren't exactly helping my state of mind either, (how would we find the time to move in with each other or, God forbid, she says no), but my aggressive heart palpitations were telling me to go for it.

My fingers twitched as they adjusted my tie, I wanted to look my best for tonight. My hair had to be perfect, clothes unmarred and unwrinkled, and my face shaven. I kissed the small picture I had of my angel on my desk and put it back down.

I took one last look at my ordinary face and shrugged. If it was good enough for Carissa, it was good enough for me.

The bell rung as I stepped into the jewelry store. I nervously looked around until the store attendant took notice of me. The glass cases scattered around the premises were all brightly lit like they were trying to reflect the fears in my heart and cry out, "Look at this loser!"

"Hello sir, how can I help you today?" The kind looking aged woman behind the counter asked.

I gulped wiping some sweat off my brow, I was so freaking anxious it was ridiculous. "Hi, um…I'm looking for an engagement ring," I mumbled out.

She smiled in adoration, "Are you nervous?"

I gulped and nodded shakily, I knew she loved me but it was still nerve-wracking to put everything on the line and ask that question.

"Well what kind of ring are you looking for?" She asked walking towards me.

"Just a simple ring, I don't want it to be really gaudy," I said smiling despite my fear. I would have much rather bought an over-the-top, most incredible ring ever for the woman that I was in love with, but I couldn't for two reasons. First, I probably couldn't afford it, hey, I'm a cubicle worker in some computer company, it's unlikely that I'll ever make a fortune. And second, as a professional singer she had a duty to her fans to appear single unless it was with someone else equally famous, so even as I was buying this ring, I knew she could never wear it.

But it didn't matter that no one except for us would know that we were married. As long as she said yes.

With my renewed happiness I surveyed the rings the helpful lady set out for me.

"This one is 1 karat," she started pointing at the different rings, "1/2 karat, 1 1/5 karat, 1 karat, 3/4 karat." I guess there wasn't anything else to say. I could already see clearly what they looked like and since I wanted rather cheap rings, they didn't have any fantastic features or added white gold remnants to talk about.

I picked the 1 1/5 karat one. If I was going to get a cheap ring for the woman of my dreams, at least it would be the most expensive, inexpensive ring… Did that even make sense?

I said goodbye to the slighted old woman since I didn't buy one of the big ass eye-gouging ability having rings. Then I decided to ease the agonizing 2 more hours it was going to take for Carissa's concert to finish by heading over to my best friend, Michael's apartment.

"What's up dude?" He opened the door unashamed of the fact that he only had boxers on. He scratched his head like he had just woken up.

I cringed at the way he looked, but pushed my way into his apartment anyways, "Did you seriously just wake up?" I looked at his digital clock that clearly stated a time that wasn't acceptable.

His eyes jerked at his clock and sighed relieved, "It's only three, I thought it was seven or something, don't fucking scare me like that asshole." He acted like three was normal; I rolled my eyes but didn't say anything else about it.

I made my way to his refrigerator, took a bottle of water and took a small sip. "Freddie, I came to tell you something." I sighed, how was I possibly going to ask Carissa if I was jittery when talking to my best friend about it.

So I pulled out the small box containing my heart instead. I opened it so that I wouldn't have to say anything.

Freddie smirked like there was a huge joke that everyone in the world was in on. He fanned himself with one of his hands like one of those old Southern ladies "I've always dreamt of this day!" He melodramatically sucked in air imitating a woman trying her hardest not to cry, he gaily batted his eyelashes.

I snorted distastefully which only caused him to laugh. "So, who's the lucky girl?" Freddie asked yawning; apparently that whole charade tired him out.

"I-I…I can't tell you." I trusted Freddie, I really did. But he was one of those guys that unknowingly and very unintentionally lets things slip out of his own mouth. It was kind of ironic that I could trust him with my life and all my life savings if I had to, but I didn't dare tell him a secret I wanted hidden from the world.

"Oh c'mon," he pleaded, "I promise it won't be like that time about the syphilis."

I looked at him blankly, "Dude… You made that one up yourself 'cause you were pissed I ate the last frozen pizza." I winced at the memory, so many days of being subjected to stares and whispering around the office. I didn't even realize what this bastard had done until a month later.

He looked up, then made a goofy grin, "Oh yeah, I did do that didn't I?" He completely oblivious to my grimaces smiled like it was the funniest thing in the world. He stopped abruptly remembering what we were talking about, "Dude, I swear I won't tell eh-nee-one." He emphasized his syllables so much so that that was how 'anyone' sounded.

"No can do…dick." I added just for good measure. There was no way I was going to ruin my beloved Carissa's career to satisfy Freddie's curiosity.

"Fine." He agreed begrudgingly only because he knew how stubborn I could get. "But I call dibs on being your best man." He gave me a try-and-stop-me look.

I smiled and gave him a man-hug, "Dude, it wouldn't even be my wedding if you weren't the best man."

"Good to know." He smiled showing off all of his teeth. He shook off our embarrassingly "tender" moment in seconds, "I recorded American Pie 7 last night, wanna watch it?"

I shrugged in thought, I had quite a bit of time to kill before I pop the big question anyways. "Hopefully, it'll be the last raunchy borderline downright porno of my single life."

So we were watching The Book of Love chapter in the glorious American Pie saga right before I proposed. Somehow that sentence sounded wrong.

"I don't get how they do it." Freddie leaned into his television set, his eyebrows were furrowed in thought. "This movie is like if the original American Pie took a shit and that shit took another shit, then that second shit ate the first shit then threw it up." I wasn't sure where he was going with this statement, but it already had me laughing like crazy. He kept going with a serious face, "So that disgusting shit's shit throw-up is this movie, yet it makes me laugh more than the original."

I wiped the tears from my chuckles. "Dude I totally get it. It's like Troll 2 or Plan 9 From Outer Space. It's so fucking bad that it's hilarious."

"Agreed." Our high-five cracked through the air.

When the movie was finally over I stretched myself like an encumbered cat before heading towards the door. "You know, I feel like we literally just wasted however many minutes that god-awful movie was." But I'm glad I came here, I'm glad I came to see you before asking the most important question in my life.

But of course I didn't say that. It's just not something you say between guys.

"Yeah." He smiled knowing exactly what I hadn't said. "Good luck buddy."

We did our handshake that had been perfected through the years and I walked out, the warmth in my heart giving me the courage I wished I would stay with me until after my moment.

I didn't realize I put off so many things until I rushed to find flowers, chocolates, restaurant reservations. It was a nightmare, but in the end I managed to get everything together before meeting with Carissa outside of her concert hall.

My heart skipped a beat. That's how I knew it was her even while staring at her back. My fingers exploded with moisture, my breathing went so fast I swear I just ran a marathon. I opened my mouth to say something, but my throat only made a gargling sound. I cleared it quickly, "Carissa!" I yelled out chasing her down the street before she got too far.

She turned around and looked at me for a second, there was a spark of recognition, her gorgeous chocolate eyes widened considerably.

I could tell how excited she was to see me.

I smiled, she was my beautiful angel and she looked even more breathtaking than usual. Man, now I really wish I was better looking.

Before I knew it I was pushed onto the ground by four policemen. Naturally I panicked and thrashed about, but four men were slamming my face into the pavement. "Get off of me, I'm about to propose!" How could they be ruining my perfect night?

"Carissa! Help me!" She just stared at me horrified, but I wasn't mad, of course she was scared, these asshole policemen were practically raping her boyfriend.

They cuffed my wrists as tightly as they could. It really hurt, but I kept calm at least because I knew it was just a misunderstanding, Carissa and I would have to explain it, and it would all be over.

"Hey Miranda, I just got back." My wife came to greet me and pulled the coat off of me. I rubbed my weary eyes, sighing, sometimes my job gets to be too much.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" Miranda kissed my cheek and went back into the kitchen, but I knew she was still listening.

"We arrested a stalker who violated his parole for the third time."

"Isn't that a good thing?" she called out, of course she didn't really get why I hated my job sometimes. The things you see…

"Yeah, but… This guy was messed up, I tell you… He kept insisting that they were in love and that he was about to propose. Even on the ground he kept reaching for the poor girl's hand and wouldn't stop even with her yelling at his face, 'I don't know you, stay away from me!' He didn't even realize that they have never even spoken before. I know these crazy stalker guys with these delusions exist everywhere, but…it's different when you actually see it. And when you actually try to convince them that maybe they've been imagining it the whole time. It blows my mind how warped people can be."

I let the fear snake its way into my voice. "He kept planning his own wedding and kept raving about his best man Freddie Green, but when we looked him up… No such beast exists."

I stared solemnly away, if it wasn't so obsessive and disgusting, it would have been pitiable. The way he talked about Carissa, like he knew her and what profound, meaningful conversations they would have. And he actually still believed after hours of everyone saying otherwise. I shivered involuntarily, "The human mind is so powerful, makes me wonder if any of this is real."

Miranda came out of the kitchen with concern etched onto her face, "Don't talk like that George. Of course this is real." She hugged and kissed me in an effort to reassure me, but, how can you really be sure? Problem is, you can't.

Author's Note: Idea came to me while I was playing a game. This was fun to write, but not sure I made the ending quite dramatic enough, oh well, review and tell me if I didn't!