I Got Drunk Married to My Archnemesis in Vegas!

I woke up married to my arch nemesis. It's not like I planned any of this. We just woke up that morning and I saw it.

The ring was on my finger. I wasn't really sure how it got there, but I could have sworn it was a little joke. Then again, we were in Vegas and stranger things had happened in the city.

How the hell did I get into this mess? I'll tell you how. BSXZ News was the top network in the city and mostly because of me.

Fine, technically I co-hosted with Charles Baldwin, but let's be real, I was the reason people tuned in. On camera, we had chemistry. Off camera, pure homicidal tension.

The job was perfect, except for him. Charles strutdded around like he owned the newsroom. All because he had six months of seniority over me.

I couldn't stand him. And somehow he hated me even more. That morning, I sat in a makeup chair while Charles scrolled through his phone, ignoring the world.

I turned to Isabella, my assistant. The Grinch didn't try to poison me today, right? Isabella barely looked up.

No, but I checked just in case. Yikes. She sounded so over it.

Charles smirked. See, Dennis, even your assistant's sick of you. I scoffed.

Bold talk for someone whose own mother probably prefers me. He finally looked up, eyes glinting. Still mad about San Paulo.

My jaw clenched. The San Paulo incident. The second assignment we were ever paired on when Charles went rogue, completely blindsiding me.

Our entire rivalry was born that day. Hair and makeup cleared us, and we moved to the anchor desk. Charles leaned in, voice low, ug.

No hard feelings, he murmured. I'm just kind of better than you. The producer counted us in and I smiled for the camera like I wasn't already plotting his demise.

Two days ago. Recently, there had been more animosity between us more than usual. Beth, our boss, called us into her office one day and broke the bad news.

Our ratings have been through the roof, and soon enough, one of us would be getting their own segment free of the other person, depending on who drums up the most viewers and engagement. So, the sabotage levels are at an all-time high. Now, this promotion would be great for whoever gets it.

Not only are we not forced to do a segment together, but we get a raise, a significant raise, and a chance to really cement our career status. Any journalist would tell you how great the opportunity was. The person who ends up stuck in the regular post gets saddled with a new partner and forced to do the introduction to the other person's segment.

Wow, they get the win rubbed in their face. Within weeks of Beth telling us the news of the new job, we had both been reprimanded in her office about conduct numerous times. You can blame us.

We were both fighters, and it seemed to have an adverse effect on the way our co-workers saw us. At every turn, when Charles would sneer at me during prep or taught me about something right before we went on air, I made it a mission to get back my pound of flesh. Like I said, I was better.

One morning, I walked into the conference room and found just Beth and Charles seated, and I began to assume the worst. Beth motions to me. Great, Dennis, you're here.

Please close the door behind you. I oblige, and Charles seems to read my mind. All right, Beth, you're starting to worry me.

I don't remember putting Lard in Monroe's face cream, so what's going on? I rolled my eyes at him. Yeah, Beth, something wrong.

She stood up. I have an assignment for you guys. Maybe it'll be the one that stops you two from burning down the station, but I need you two to work on this one together.

Meaning no sabotage at all. I'm giving this source to you, the both of you, and I need you both to meet and get an answer good enough for this story. Can you do that?

Beth looks between the two of us, and Charles and I glance at each other. Then we nod. Beth smiles.

Great. On to the briefing. So, this assignment is related to the last two stories you both brought me.

Since you two never share intel, I looked at them both and did more research on my own. There's a major scoop in this one, and it's bound to break the rating ceiling if you guys deliver on this one. It's the Carmen and Adonis court case story.

I have a source that will give information about what their feud is about. And I want us to be the first to break this. So, I'm sending you guys to Vegas.

Get everything you need and be back Monday morning to deliver a record-breaking headline. Okay? I'm going to email you both the packet, and I need you both at the sourc's address tomorrow evening.

And please remember, I said work this together. Okay? Charles and I nodded and I added, "Thanks for trusting us with this, Beth.

We won't let you down. " The next night, Charles and I had arrived at the Paris Las Vegas Hotel, taking the last flight that night. Knowing us, Beth made sure not to sit us beside each other, so we only had contact before and after we got down from the plane.

The car waiting took us straight to the hotel we'd be staying at, which also happened to be where the source said he'd be. The car ride was silent, which was excruciating because Las Vegas has the craziest amount of traffic that probably rivals New York during rush hour. I scrolled through my work tablet, going through the story files and prepping my questions for the source.

When Charles leaned over my tablet, just as I snatched the screen away, I caught a faint whiff of the Versace Aerospore cologne. I was a bit of a cologne enthusiast, so it wasn't hard to recognize, but I was impressed by his choice of perfume. It was good.

Out loud, however, I narrowed my eyes at him. What are you looking for? He rolled his eyes and scoffed.

You need to lighten up, Monroe. I just knew you'd be working stuff, so I wanted to see what you had planned for the source. That's all.

Remember, Beth wants us to work together. I thought it over, and as much as I hated having to, I gave him the tablet, and we went over the questions together. He didn't object to my questions much, only making suggestions, which slightly pissed me off.

I was taken aback by his level-headedness, then fully expected him to question my journalism techniques. At the hotel, we were directed to the card table where we met Gano, the source. He worked for Adonis and was the only one on his staff list who wasn't made to sign an NDA.

He filled us in on the happenings between him and Carmen. An hour and a half later, Giano talked a lot. We had recorded enough for two rundowns of the story, and we only had to work all the information into one story we could break on Monday.

Charles emailed everything to Beth to get the team working on it, while I worked on our dialogue for the segment. It was smooth sailing. Once again, shocking me with how well Charles and I worked.

When all was done, we went back to the reception and got checked into our rooms, and we were presented with just one key. Both of us were surprised, but I beat Charles to the phone call directed at Beth. She picked up at the third ring and I put her on speaker.

Why, Dennis? It is 9:00 p. m.

on a Friday night. I already got your email. Were you aware that we were put in a single room?

I asked. She sighed. Company budget, Dennis.

And it has two beds, so who cares? Charles pitched in. No, Elizabeth.

It's just one room with one bed. That is not happening with us. Look, I'm sorry about that, but you guys are there for just a night.

Make it work or pay for another room yourselves. There's nothing I can do right now for my home. And she hung up.

The receptionist spoke. I'm sorry, sir. Is there a problem?

Charles sighed. No. Um, just uh can I get another single room?

She looked at her computer for a while, then winced. I'm so sorry, sir, but it seems we're fully booked for the night. Are you kidding me?

Fine, we'll take the room. It's too late to get another hotel. Can we just get someone to take the bags up?

The receptionist motioned to a bellboy close by who took our suitcases. Charles said he was going to get a drink while I followed the bell boy up to the room. After getting settled in the room, I decided to go back down to the bar, maybe to find and check on Charles because he seemed to be in a bad mood.

I searched for a while before finding him sitting at the bar nursing a scotch. I sat next to him and ordered the same thing. I know I'm not supposed to care, but are you okay?

He looked at me. Is something different about me? I tilted my head and studied him.

Other than the usual rugged handsomeness about him, his tie was loosened, his stuple was faint, and his eyes were bloodshot. There was definitely something different about him. "You were being nice to me all day.

You even gave up the room for me. It's unusual. I'm worried.

" He chuckled lightly. I got dumped this morning. Right before I got to the airport, boyfriend just sent me a text and that was it.

He blocked me afterwards. I sighed and turned to face my drink. Damn.

I'm sorry about that, Charles. How do you feel? How do you think I feel?

He retorted. Like a scotch isn't enough. It's on the company dime.

Charles, I'll join you and we'll have a few drinks and then some more. The mini bar in our room is exceptional, actually. He laughed.

First genuine one he's ever directed towards me, and it made me feel tingly in a way that was enjoyable. Thanks, Dennis. I wanted to be drunk when I said this, but you're cool.

We ordered more, stronger drinks because, let's face it, we both needed it. We don't take a lot of vacations in our line of work. And when it came to the both of us, we were married to the job, so this was something that was long overdue.

Five drinks turned to 10, which turned to shots, and then I lost count. I hadn't been drunk in years, and I hadn't felt the knot on my shoulder loosen in a long while. Even Charles had a much softer expression on his face.

Signs that he was letting loose on himself for one night only. He turned to me and said, "I may act like I don't like you, but I actually do, and we work really well together. Other teams wish they could power couple the way we do.

" I laughed it off, thinking it was the alcohol that got that rise out of him. But I also had been thinking the same thing. I always thought that Charles and I would be really good friends if this whole competition thing didn't exist.

But I knew that realistically things didn't work that way. And I may be crazy or the alcohol was really getting to me, but I started to have butterflyike feelings when Charles would smile at me or when he would hold my hand trying to steady himself. Hooking up was one thing and we did that once or twice.

But having those types of feelings was weird and vulnerable. So I brushed it off and let myself believe that for just one night that we called a truce and we were just friends and I was helping my friend through a breakup. It was fun and exciting until I kissed him.

Then I blacked out. The next morning, I woke up with a splitting headache. Reason number one for not getting piss drunk at bars.

I sat up trying to gather my thoughts from the night before. Then I opened my eyes and my shirt wasn't on. First sign of trouble.

I never sleep without my pajamas on. I turned around to see if I could jog my memory. And then I saw Charles next to me, shirtless as well, and put two and two together.

We had slept together. I groaned because I didn't think it would happen again, but here we are. I nudged him till he woke up.

What is it? This sneery bastard had returned. I'm glad to see you had a nice night, Charles, but we had sex last night, and I'm not thrilled about it.

But I'm willing to write it off as me helping you get over your dumb ex-boyfriend. Okay. Charles rubbed his eyes.

Yeah, I'm not too thrilled about it either. I'm going to the bathroom. He got off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom, then reappeared seconds later, looking scared.

Um, Dennis, can I see your left hand? Confused, I pulled out my hand to see the ring on my ring finger. Within seconds, my confusion turned to shock.

Please tell me that's a toy or a prop. It's Vegas, Monroe. It is not a toy.

So what? We just became Rachel and Ross from friends all of a sudden. What in the hell?

He scoffed. Well, if we were, I'd definitely be Rachel. I glared at him.

That's what you're thinking about right now? He dismissed my statement. We need to find the chapel and figure this out and see if we can get an anulment or a divorce or something before this gets out and out of hand.

I grabbed my phone to check my last known location. But no sooner had I picked up the phone than I was greeted with the site of a local blog and a picture of us at our wedding. That's going to be a problem, Charles.

We're trending. And I give it 10 minutes before Beth calls to scream in our ears. That anulment or divorce is going to have to wait.

We just have to work on Monday and make it through the weekend married. Hubby. I gave him a tight smile.

2 days later, Charles and I were seated in Beth's office for the millionth time in a while. But instead of her lashing out at our inability to work cohesively, she paced around the room silent, trying to figure out a way to handle our little mistake. We had trended all weekend.

The picture of us leaving the hotel that morning fed the internet for two whole days and it didn't seem like it would be stopping because we had a joint segment to deliver in merely 30 minutes. Poor Beth had been on the phone with the legal team and the publicity team trying to undo and capitalize on the matter at hand. Because let's face it, a news station that can't capitalize on news isn't really living up to their name of being a news station.

The legal team said divorce would be our best option. But the publicity team said that if we just came out and said we were always together and our wedding just got leaked, we could use our followings to create enough traction for viewership. But we would need to stay married for a while until the press didn't care about it and we just silently filed for divorce.

Charles and I weren't loving the idea of staying married and pitched that we got the divorce anyway, but didn't tell anyone. Then Beth slapped the fact that we'd have to live together because the internet can be the world's greatest detectives when they want to be, and we would never hear the end of it if they found out we didn't live together. Their reasoning was sound, but we still didn't want to do it.

So Beth added that whoever was the best team player would get the job, but we had to pull it through for a year. That was enough to seal the deal. And within minutes, we were in her makeup and then we were sat on TV breaking one of the biggest stories of our careers with a large audience watching.

The ratings were through the roof. And the social media engagement was on fire, especially with the little Easter eggs Charles dropped, like lightly going off script and talking directly to me. Eyes full of love.

The audience loved it. The studio loved it. Beth loved it.

And somehow I seemed to like it. But I had to get my head screwed on tight. He was doing this for the job that I also wanted.

So, I had to buckle up and power through this year. We decided to move into my apartment because it had more space and I had a guest room. Moving was a nightmare, especially when I was graced with the mountain that was Charles stuff.

I immediately laid down some ground rules and I did everything I could to make sure that we didn't try to kill each other. Aside from a few unavoidable situations, Charles proved to be a suitable roommate. I got to know more about him from the way he handled his things.

He was a neat freak and he loved cooking. Since we worked together, we decided to alternate who drove to work. And before then, he would cook us breakfast.

Not that I asked him to. He just took up the responsibility for himself. The house remained silent at first, like two zombies that lived together.

But there was a night he came home with a box of pizza. I was sitting in the living room working and he plpped the box right next to me. Without looking up, I asked, "What's this for?

" "It's for us. I can't dismiss you from the living room. It's common ground, and neither can you.

" So, I was thinking we'd watch a movie tonight. I looked up and saw him holding out four rented movies. You're kidding yourself if you think I'm watching that.

I nodded to the Saving Private Ryan DVD he held. He gasped. I didn't think you had imbecillic taste in film.

I'm sorry. War movies are just boring to me. I shrugged, my attention completely detached from my work.

First of all, it's a historical drama. And second, if you don't like good movies, what do you like? I rolled my eyes.

I refer to my movie taste as good movies, but action and romance are my favorite genres. Have you seen The Notebook? It's a perfect movie.

He sat on the couch next to me. The pizza box now separating us. So, a movie about a dementia patients diary you'd watch, but not a movie like American Psycho.

Why the hell would anyone watch that? I raise you the Fast and Furious saga. Those movies are so overdone and unending.

But it's about family. I beamed. He held his hand to his chest dramatically.

Okay, it's time for a movie cation. I'll watch any of your favorite movies if you give Peak Cinema a chance. starting with saving private Ryan deal.

8 months later, as time went on, Charles and I embraced the married life aspect of our situation. We went from rivals to actual friends to one day people who slept together pretty darn often and kissed each other good morning. We went on dates and on many vacations together.

and we admitted that real feelings had come about the relationship we had. I could even go as far as saying I loved him, but I was too scared to do so. Quick reminder, we are still in this marriage because of a job.

And I felt that if I caved, I would have been suckered into a tight spot and may have compromised my career because of it. So, we kept doing what we did, being the world's best roommates and having a semi- relationship. Still, there was the happiest I've been in a very long time, and I was scared of letting it go, especially as time went by and our one-year marker was coming up.

Speaking of careers, our show was the highest rated thing that wasn't the NFL or NBA on any channel. Ratings were through the roof, and Beth and the executives made sure to show just how happy they were by increasing our airtime meant giving us frequent overruns. Social media engagements were also through the roof.

So much so that publicity had us do appearances on late night shows, guest starring gigs, and the works. an exhausting task, but in our line of work, opportunities like this rarely ever come up, so we would be crazy to refuse or complain. Plus, we had each other, and I grew to genuinely love working with him.

Our onscreen chemistry wasn't fake anymore. There was real love flowing between the both of us. We were just too chicken to admit it.

Regardless, everything was blossoming and we were in a good place. Or so I thought. Charles had gone out to drinks with a friend and was going to be back with dinner soon.

So, I went through the mail expecting only bills, then maybe some other minuscule notices. But then I saw a letter from Solar News Station addressed to Charles Baldwin. Dear Mr Baldwin, we sent this letter in addition to the email.

We are sorry to learn that you turned down the offer to join Solar News. Thank you for meeting with us and we hope you would reconsider. We are still open for negotiations.

My heart sank and I collapsed on the couch. As if on schedule, I heard Charles's keys dangle before the door opened, revealing him. He held a bag full of takeout, and he had a smile on his face before his eyes met mine, then trailed down to the letter in my hand.

Where'd you get that? He asked guardedly. Do you have another PO box that I don't know about, Charles?

I scoffed. He charged towards me and snatched the letter away. You went through my mail?

It's my P. Box, I can do so if I choose. What the hell is that letter?

You turned down another job. We're still going to fight for this segment after everything. This is what you do to me now?

How could you? I need you to calm down and let me explain. I scoffed, taking a step back.

No, what I want you to do is get away from me, Charles. Thanks for reminding me. We are rivals anyway.

I disappeared into my room to grab my jacket and put on a pair of shoes. I came back out with my keys. I'm going out.

I don't know how long, but I want you gone when I come back. Also, I want a divorce. He reached out to try and stop me.

Please, Dennis, I'm begging you. It's not what it looks like. Okay, if you could just not overreact and let me speak, you'll understand what's going on.

Oh, I don't know what's going on. I don't? So, this isn't you trying to eat your cake and have it?

Really? Did you leverage that employment letter for a better spot, Charles? You really think you're better than me, don't you?

There was a look of please spread across his face. Well, you, Charles. This was a fun experiment.

It worked for the station. It worked for you, but that's it. I'm not waiting three more months.

I'm done. You'll be hearing from my lawyers. I slammed the door behind me.

Then I got in my car and drove away. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I didn't bother to check it. I was sure it was him calling to plead, but I wasn't going to let him convince me that he wasn't a snake and that I wasn't just being delusional, that I could have fallen in love and made myself give up the job of a lifetime for him.

I wasn't going to let that happen. So, I kept driving. New York City at night was a spectacle, so I kept on driving.

I contemplated going to a bar to get a drink, but I remembered what happened when last I got drunk. So, I thought against it and just drove on for a while more till I found myself at the beach. I took a walk trying to wrap my head around what had transpired that night and then my conscience came into play.

I didn't let Charles get a word in, and I was being silly. After a while of testing the weight of my actions, I drove back home. I fiddled with the keys, fearing the emptiness I was about to face.

Then I opened the door and Charles sat in the same place I did when I lashed out at him. I thought you'd have left by now, I said in a low voice, fiddling with my keys. I was about to, but I felt bad keeping this from you.

Then I decided to say something to you, and you weren't answering my calls, so I thought I'd wait for you. I sighed. Well, I'm glad you're here.

I'll be level-headed and listen to you. Charles scoffed. You're unbelievable.

You know that you like to think you're above making mistakes and that you don't deserve anything that happens to you. Fine. Well, I turned down the job because I wanted to keep working with you.

I let myself believe we had gotten to a point where sharing the screen wasn't so bad and that you felt the same way. So, I had an idea to keep the promotion for both of us. We're the station's best asset, so we had bargaining power.

Creative control over the show, a raise, the works. I didn't think twice about turning down the offer. But you made me regret that because you don't trust me, and you never wanted to trust me.

I stood there dumbfounded. I had gone and ruined the whole thing. I Charles, I I promise I didn't mean to.

I just overreacted. No, you thought about yourself immediately. Thanks for the reminder, though.

We are getting divorced anyway, so all bets are off. We're rivals, Monroe. You of all people should know that.

Then he walked past me and out the door. Two weeks later, the air at work was stiff. Charles wasn't talking to me.

The house was empty with ghosts haunting me. It was a daunting time to be alone or at work, but I had no choice on the matter. He wasn't answering my calls, nor was he talking to me.

The only contact we had was when the cameras were rolling. Every time I tried to talk to him, he turned to look at me and say nothing, then walk away. It was like torture, especially when he slid the divorce papers over to me, signed right before we went on air, saying nothing.

Then Beth called me into her office and broke some news to me. Apparently, Charles had tendered his resignation and was taking the job at Solar News. It had been a decision he'd had for a while and informed Beth about long ago so I could get the new show.

A win-win. When she asked him why, he said it was because he knew I deserved it. That no one else he knew had the passion and love for the career that I had.

So he felt there was no reason fighting someone he loved for something they deserved more. I walked out of her office shaken. I had really screwed up this time.

I stalked her on my office moping. Then I eyed the divorce papers on my desk and I decided I was going to stop trying to talk to Charles and just talk to him. Later that night, I knocked on his door twice.

It took a lot of begging to get his new address from his assistant, but I finally got it. The door finally opened and he was dressed in his gray sweats. He stared at me.

What do you want, Dennis? Don't leave. Please, I don't want you to leave.

He opened the door to let me in. I can't do this job without you. I'm so sorry.

I've been a selfish piece of this entire time having my foot out the door when I was as much a part of this mess as anyone. But please, Charles, you're my partner. And I can't let you just leave.

Screw Solar. Why should I trust you, Dennis? You never did.

Because I love you, Charles. You're my partner, my co-anchor, and my life partner. Since I met you, I've been the most alive version of myself.

You drive me in so many ways, and this job just won't be the same without you. I took out the divorce papers from my pocket and tore them in half. I'm not signing those, and I hope you don't want me to.

Then I took out the box from my other pocket and knelt down. Marry me, Charles Baldwin, for real this time. Please.

Charles let out a breath. Then a tear escaped from his eye and he cursed. Dennis.

Why do you always have to be so irresistible to me? Is that a yes? I asked.

Yes, that's a yes. I'll marry you for real. And I love you too, Monroe.

He smiled and pulled me up from my knees and kissed me. We kissed in a way that was so full of love and want, equivalent to people who are genuine and true to each other. People who have missed each other.

He pulled back and asked, "Where'd you get that ring anyways? " I grinned, "Why do you think I came in so late? " "I went ring shopping, obviously.

" He laughed and kissed me again, and I knew that from right there, we would be all right. Conclusion. It's been a year, and I'm still feeling butterflies every day with Charles.

He had been a dream. We had a real wedding and everything. Work had also been ultra smooth.

The show was going well, and our ratings were solid and climbing weekly. We got higher level stories and as we aced them, Beth trusted us more and more with even better ones. A year ago, I never could have imagined this.

Standing at the top of my game, handinhand with the man who still made me blush like it was the first day. The show, our careers, the life we built together. It was more than I ever dared to hope for.

And yet somehow it all felt effortless. As Charles led me out of the studio, his fingers still laced with mine, I realized something. Success, love, happiness.

It wasn't about chasing the next big thing. It was about the moments, the little choices that led us here. And right here with him was exactly where it was meant to be.

The end. Have you ever had a drunken experience with another person? What did it lead to?

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