We went to this breakfast spot Maddy had been talking about for two weeks. Small place, the kind that fills up fast and doesn't take reservations, so we got there early enough to get a table in the back corner without waiting.
The food was good. Better than good. Maddy ordered three things and ate off my plate too, which she did every time we went somewhere and which I had stopped commenting on.
She had her phone out between bites, scrolling through something, turning the screen toward me every few minutes to show me a reference she liked. She'd been deep in fashion content for weeks — watching designers, studying lookbooks, pulling together a vision for what she wanted to create. She'd been talking about a YouTube channel for a while, showing people how she put things together, the theory behind it, not just the outcome.
"You should do it," I said.
"I know I should. I'm still figuring out the format."
"Figure it out by posting. You can't think your way into it."
She looked at me. "That's literally what you do. You think about things for months before you put them out."
"Music is different."
"How."
"It just is."
She rolled her eyes and went back to her phone. But she was smiling.
* * *
Two kids came up to the table. Fourteen, maybe fifteen. The one in front had his phone already out before he got to us, already nervous, already apologizing for interrupting.
"Sorry, we don't want to bother you, we just — can we get a picture?"
"Yeah." I got up.
We did the pictures. Both of them. The second one asked me to do a face for it and I did it without thinking about it and Maddy laughed from the table.
"Thank you," the first one said. He was genuinely grateful, the kind of grateful that was embarrassing for him but he couldn't help it. "The album is really good. Like really good."
"Appreciate that."
They went back to their table and immediately huddled over the phones and I sat back down.
The owner came over a few minutes later. Middle-aged woman, her restaurant clearly, the kind of person who ran everything herself and knew every regular by name.
"I saw that," she said. "You didn't have to do that. You're on a date."
"It's fine."
"Breakfast is on me today."
"You don't have to —"
"I know I don't." She looked at Maddy. "Your boyfriend is polite."
"When he wants to be," Maddy said.
The owner laughed and walked away. I looked at Maddy.
"When he wants to be?"
"I stand by it."
* * *
My phone went off while we were still eating. I looked at the screen.
Ben Baller.
"It's ready," I said.
Maddy looked up. "The chain?"
"Yeah."
She put her fork down. "Let's go."
"We haven't finished eating."
She was already reaching for her bag.
* * *
Ben Baller's studio was the kind of place that looked like exactly what it was serious work. We got taken to the back where he had it laid out on the velvet tray waiting.
The chain was a Cuban. Heavy, white gold. The pendant was the piece. White gold base, the whole face iced in VVS, black diamonds outlining the locs and the details, ruby stones for the tongue. Custom. The only one. Mine.
I picked it up.
It was heavier than I expected even knowing the specs. The light caught every angle of it.
I put it on.
Maddy looked at it for a long second.
"Wow," she said. "That's crazy."
"Good crazy or bad crazy."
"Good crazy. Obviously good crazy." She tilted her head. "It's ignorant."
"That was the goal."
"You achieved it." She reached out and held the pendant for a second, turning it slightly to catch the light. Then she looked up at me. "I love it. It's very you."
I looked at her.
"What?" she said.
I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out the box.
Small. Black. No brand on the outside.
Her eyes changed.
I opened it. Diamond choker. White gold chain, princess cut stones set all the way around, clean and simple and serious.
She stared at it.
"Jordan."
I stepped behind her and put it around her neck. Fastened the clasp. She looked down at it and then up at the mirror Ben had on the side wall and then she screamed not a loud scream, contained,She spun around and grabbed my face and kissed me hard.
Ben Baller looked away tactfully.
When she pulled back her eyes were bright. She touched the choker with her fingertips like she was still confirming it was real.
"You planned this," she said.
"Obviously."
She shook her head. She was still smiling and trying not to.
"I hate you."
"No you don't."
"No I don't."
She looked in the mirror one more time. Touched it again. Then she looked at me through the reflection.
"Okay," she said. "Let's go. I need people to see this."
I laughed and we walked out.