I still am shocked that I was able to make it home after the bar. Especially with how everything became a blur once I left the VIP room. And now it’s Sunday morning, which I’m dealing with work in my home office. At least that was the goal. But I found myself just staring at my holographic monitors, while tapping my fingers. 

Not to mention, for some damn reason everything is now suddenly too loud. And it doesn’t help that I… That I… I quickly shook my head. I shouldn’t be thinking of that. There’s no point. We’re never meeting again. No matter how much I hope for it. 

Since I’m not able to focus on getting any work done, I shut down my home office and made my way through the halls. At the far end of this floor was the elevator that led to my mansion’s underground gym. What better way to do something productive since I’m not able to clearly work. 

As I set up the weights for another set of bench press, my AI assistant came over the speakers. “Mr. Draven, an unknown number is trying to contact you. Should I proceed denying—“ Suddenly my assistant voice was cut offline. And another voice came through. 

“Hey there big boy.” My whole body froze as I recognized that voice. It can’t be. It shouldn’t be. I already admitted that what happened last night was just a birthday dream and nothing more. But now, that voice was over my speakers. “Aren’t you going to say hi back?” 

Was he mocking me? Did I even wake up when I returned home? This is just impossible. “Well, hello.” After I said those words I just remembered that my assistant was cut. “WAIT A MINUTE! How did you get through my calling protocol?” 

“Doesn’t matter. All that matters is we have a date. So when do you wish to meet, so I can send you the address to the coffee shop?” I can’t believe him. It’s also then that I realized that all my tech seemed to stop responding to my mental commands to record his voice. Instead they all shouted back error. 

After I deep breath, and some thought, I went through my schedule for the week. It’s look like I could move a few meetings around to make room for a sudden coffee date with Queen. “Wednesday, 10 o’clock.” 

“Perfect. I’ll send you the address.” With that, his voice faded into the usual tell tell sound of someone hanging up the phone. 

I tried to tell my assistant to track the number. “Sorry sir. But there is no number to track. Did someone call you, for you to request such a thing?” 

“How is that possible?” And before I could continue speaking I witnessed my digital schedule change to reflect the coffee date on Wednesday. “How did he do that? How does he have access to my personal assets? This is protected by high end cybersecurity protocols!”  

And then I saw the memo he wrote with the address. Don’t keep me waiting. -Queen. 

What in the world is going on?