BETRAYED

~ Betrayed

June 2025

“I swear you’re going to regret this!”

Roger’s voice keeps blaring in the background while I check myself in the mirror.

“For a rented tux, don’t I make this look good?”

I turn my back to him and go back to fiddling with my tie, which just doesn’t sit right.

Giving up on the blasted tie, I spray some mousse into my hand and slowly run it through my hair, styling it back the way my future wife likes it. I can’t help but smile, admiring the handsome blue-eyed devil grinning back at me. I know I’m good-looking. I’ll admit it—I’m a bit vain. But when you’re this good-looking, they’re supposed to make songs about you. A perfect blend of my father’s German build—tall and muscular—and my mother’s Polish features. Bright eyes, dark hair, high cheekbones… a combination that made women melt like ice cream on a hot day.

“James. Are you listening to me?”

I hadn’t been, and he knew it. I hated Roger when he was like this—getting mad and throwing fits, acting like he was seven instead of twenty-five.

“Maybe I would if you’d stop standing there and help me with this tie.”

He walks over, unbuckles the golden bow tie, still going on about how much I need to reconsider. With a few twists and turns, Roger adjusts the tie and clips it back on my collar.

Roger’s my best friend, and even though we’re the same age, he’s always felt more like a cool older brother. He’s taller than me and slimmer. Also good-looking, with bright eyes and dark hair. He leans up against the wall, one leg propped up, arms crossed in a classic James Dean bad-boy pose. His bright eyes glare at me as his face begins to go red.

I refocus on myself in the mirror. Now my tie looks perfect. Roger was always great with that kind of stuff—the little details. When something seemed off, he’d tweak it until it worked.

“I don’t get it. How do you know she’s not marrying you for the millions we’re about to make? We’re on our way to ruling the world, but instead of being a prince of the universe, you want to be a commoner—a mere peasant of the free world?”

That’s another thing Roger does well—folding movie quotes and rock lyrics into everyday language. He was referring to the Voice Box—our brainchild. An app we created for our final software engineering test. At first, it was just a simple voice simulator but leave it to Roger to tweak it into a voice emulator. The app didn’t just let users sound like a cat or a robot. It wrote a numerical algorithm and harmonized an exact voice replica based on a few vocal samples. It stored that vocal pattern, and when the user spoke into their phone, it made them sound exactly like that person—without the limits of pre-programmed words.

Our professor and classmates were blown away. They spent hours playing with the prototype. Before the day was over, everyone on campus wanted to try it. The clarity, speed, and accuracy were mind-blowing. Plus, it was always fun impersonating people.

“She doesn’t know anything about the app. I plan on telling her after you get the contracts finalized. Me getting married has nothing to do with us launching that app. I just need to make a few minor adjustments before it can be applied to multi-level servers. Which I will do—as soon as I get back from my honeymoon. So, relax. We’re still going to rule the world. We’re still retiring in ten years like planned. I swear.”

That’s how I pacified him. Roger knew how much I hated breaking promises, especially after my parents’ divorce and my dad breaking everyone, he ever made. Because of that, I did my best to be a man of my word—and he knew how much that meant to me.

“I don’t believe you! I know you. Once you’re married, you’ll become domesticated. You’ll start pursuing all the things married men pursue.”

Roger began counting on his fingers.

“Finding a stable job, having kids, buying a home… Before long, you’ll become more and more complacent. Letting yourself go with each passing year. Then one day you’ll wake up to your nagging wife, your spoiled kids, and a mind-numbing, mundane life that’ll make you want to kill yourself!”

I laugh out loud. Roger being dramatic as usual.

“Wow. Sounds like you can see the future! No lucky lotto numbers?”

“You don’t have to be psychic to see what marriage does to people. No wonder so many end in divorce. Why would anyone give up their individualism to join a collective?”

I feel myself growing angry. He was pushing buttons on purpose.

“Well, Linda and I are going to beat the odds. Why can’t you be happy for us? You’re the reason we met at that bowling alley.”

“All I said was, ‘Look at the rack on the brunette!’ I didn’t know you’d end up dating her, slacking off on your programming, nearly flunking out of college, and planning a wedding a month after graduation. Don’t you see? You’ve been making a series of bad choices—and this is going to be the worst o-o-o-o-one!” He drags out the word in that cartoon voice I hate.

“So that’s why you’ve been sabotaging things? Not doing any of the best man stuff? Like that bachelor party last night?” I’m getting heated.

Roger puts a hand up, cutting me off.

“Are you complaining about that party? I know men who’d sell their mothers to have been you last night. I lined up a buffet of women. You had your pick—every color, race, shape, and size. And that’s the thanks I get?”

“I told you, Roger. That wasn’t what I wanted. And again, I let you pressure me into it.”

I can’t help smiling. An obvious lie.

Roger laughs, then looks at me. We lock eyes through the mirror.

“As usual, blame it on me.”

We both laugh.

“But you didn’t take much convincing. And once you got going, I couldn’t stop you. See? What happened last night—that could be just the tip of the iceberg!”

“God, here you go again.”

“We could be like that till we’re old and Viagra’s been replaced by bionic dicks. So, I ask—why? Why would you give all that up to fuck the same broad the rest of your life? James…”

He lowers his voice, serious now.

“James, we’re not like them—the sheep and the timid. We’re conquerors! Last of a dying breed. And you’re about to commit suicide!”

Roger was right. Well—half right.

In a way, I was committing suicide. I was going to have to kill the man I thought I always wanted to be… so I could become the man she needed me to be. It was sacrilege to everything I’d promised myself I would become. The alpha male inside cried out, moaned in agony. But she had silenced his voice.

Roger had left the bowling alley before he could actually meet Linda. So, he missed the moment we first locked eyes. The moment I felt lightheaded, and my stomach fluttered—in a good way. We talked all night, even after the alley closed. We made it back to my dorm. When I woke up, she was gone.

I spent the better part of a week tracking her down—until I saw her again, sitting on a pink blanket with yellow barrettes in her hair, wearing a white sundress. Her painted toes wiggled as she read from an actual book. An actual physical book—while everyone else used digital readers. It made her stand out so much that, for a moment, time froze. She was perfectly still while the world moved around her.

My late nights of binary code turned into long conversations. My GPA dropped, but I felt myself soaring in ways I’d never imagined. Linda wasn’t just another woman. She was unlike anyone I’d ever met. She was an anomaly. In a world of 1s and 0s—she was a 2. I could go in-depth about anything, and she’d keep up—or at least stay curious.

“Look, Roger. Even if I explained it to you, you’d just belittle my feelings. Why can’t you be happy for us? Haven’t I always been a great friend to you?”

I turn to face him, hoping my words finally got through.

“When’s the last time you were there for me? I dropped out of school to secure our future, and you go plan a wedding.”

I sigh and take a seat while he continues.

“With me traveling, trying to get celebrity endorsements, and you supposedly finishing the app—we barely hung out these past few months. That’s why you planned this surprise wedding behind my back. Because you knew I’d talk you out of it. You don’t want to admit it, but you’re still dealing with your breakup with Tammy.”

“Again, with Tammy? She was not my first love!” I shoot back.

“She was your first real heartbreak. And three months later, you propose to Linda—”

This time, I put my hand up and cut Roger off.

“Linda is nothing like that airhead Tammy. Linda soaks up information like a sponge. I love the look in her eyes when I show or teach her something new. She’s my match in all my favorite things—chess, racquetball, pool. Roger, she satisfies me on all levels: mentally, spiritually, physically. That’s why I have to marry her. I don’t want to spend another moment without her.”

Roger walks over and grabs me by the shoulders. His eyes are glassy. His voice cracks.

“We all we got! Am I not my brother’s keeper?”

I laugh. He’s doing his best “Shy Money” impersonation from New Jack City—the scene before Nino kills him. A movie we watched together a hundred times.

“You’re a clown, I swear.”

Roger wipes away his fake tears and shifts back to his normal tone.

“You’re scared of the unknown. But I’m telling you—that’s the good stuff. That’s what makes men like us feel alive! You know what I hear when you talk about Linda? She’s stable. Reliable. Comforting. I’m telling you, all that gets boring. Real quick.”

“I’m not walking into this blindfolded. For once in my life, I have total clarity. There’s no doubt in my mind—Linda is the one. Can’t you see? She’s done the impossible. She’s made me a believer.”

A knock comes on the parlor wall.

“James? Who are you talking to in there?” It’s Linda—my bride.

I smile, walk to where her voice came through, and press my ear to the wall.

“Is Roger with you? I’m finally going to meet him, right?”

I look at Roger and signal him to say hi. He refuses—then storms out, slamming the door behind him.

“He’s acting like a baby. He just left. I’m sure he’ll be ready when the time comes.”

But I was wrong.

When it came time to say, “I do,” another groomsman had to take Roger’s place. He’d slipped the ring into the side pocket of my tux before disappearing. He must’ve known from the start he wouldn’t go through with it.

As I tried to enjoy my wedding day, I couldn’t stop thinking about Roger. After always being there for him—any time, any place—this was all I asked. Just to be my best man. And he couldn’t do that.

Roger, you selfish, irresponsible son of a bitch.

We weren’t friends. We were brothers—at least to me.

Why couldn’t you just be here for me?

Why couldn’t you be happy for me?

“What’s wrong?” Linda asked. “It’s Roger not being here, isn’t it? I know how much his friendship meant to you. But… I understand him, in a way. I wouldn’t want to share you with anyone else in the world either.”

She smiled. Her eyes twinkled. My heart skipped.

She is perfect for me.

Whether Roger ever knows it or not, I’m happy.