<div style="text-align: justify;">She had been really tired when she had arrived home. When Jillian sought out to make her ‘big city’ dreams come true and moved to Manhattan after college so she could experience the proper artsy, cultured environment to which she had been sure she belonged since an early age, she had failed to grasp that the first years, and probably, some more after that, would be a fuzzy blunder of 16 hour work days, bosses who thought your biggest asset was operating his cappuccino machine and answering e-mails in her iPhone 24/7. So, these days, really, she was always exhausted. She felt old. Her dreams had lost some of its glimmer.<br/><br/>The only thing that made it easier was the fact that somehow, when she had first arrived in the city, she had met just the right roommates. Marcus and Justin had been best friends out of college, and the type of guys with whom Jillian clicked at first sight. They liked the same books (which for Jill was about the most important remark on someone’s character) music, movies and theater. They broadened her horizons when it came to art. They cooked better than she did, and didn’t mind cooking for her if she did most of the groceries and bought all of the fancy, imported foods they loved. They understood her, and they were very laid-back and accommodating. <br/><br/>She had quickly grown comfortable with them. Then intimidate. Then… she wasn’t sure. They were probably her best friends in life now, but the three of them sometimes mirrored a married couple. She couldn’t remember them ever bringing home loud friends or screaming over a baseball game with a beer in hand while she was around. They just didn’t behave like your usual male buddies.<br/><br/>Case in point, they had insisted on taking her out that night. It was a gallery opening, tasteful, and the food was good. Almost made her wonder if they were gay, but she had seen them around women. They were at the very least bi. The champagne had helped her some. The talk with the other guests reminded her why she had done everything in her life so far. To live like that! To have nights like that instead of heating up lasagna and cuddling in her couch to watch TV, like everybody else did in her hometown. <br/><br/>She felt lighter, happier when she plopped down on her narrow bed. She still had a smile on her lips. She didn’t bother opening her eyes when one of them removed her shoes and caressed her calves. She finally did at the offer of ice cream from the other. They had rolled around her bed a little while stuffing themselves with <em>Chocolate Peppermint Crunch</em>, talking about their weeks and she somehow found herself fifteen minutes later with her head on Marcus’ lap and her legs throw over Justin, who was caressing the back of her knees. </div><br/>