Ari has a bad idea. F**k the world's wealthiest man. It's just a fling. Just physical. What could go wrong?
or...
What do you do when two of your icons decide to embrace their villain era?
You say f**k it and make them f**k. Or at least that's how...
Once the revelation had struck it had become her mantra. As the ball dropped in Times Square, Ariana made her resolution. She was going to get herself a man with power, fame, and money.
The problem was who to choose? Ariana looked at each criteria in turn. Although power was her main focus, possibly bordering fetish territory, that one seemed the most depressing. She thought about men in government and shuddered. No. No geriatric president. No overweight senator. Just no. Ugh, maybe she'd come back to that one.
Fame made Ariana think of Hollywood. She could date some famous actor. Certainly he would have fame and money. The issue was she couldn't think of any actor who she would consider especially powerful. Plus a pop star dating an actor seemed so cliché. Ariana didn't just want to cause a stir. She wanted to take the media by storm. To be all they wanted to talk about. Two out of three just wouldn't do.
Money. Money was a form of power after all. Perhaps this was her deciding factor. And it was probably the easiest one. Literally a measurable factor in her trifecta. A quick google search counting down the wealthiest men on earth. Some were instantly dismissed, either because she had never heard of them, so not enough fame, or the geriatric factor. For example, at nearly 70 years old, Bill Gates didn't seem like a viable candidate. Mark Zuckerberg was at least reasonably close to her age as well as being famous and controlling social media. He was married though. Minor inconvenience. He was a possibility. She read on. Jeff Bezos was on the borderline of her age limit. He was definitely famous, powerful, and engaged but not married. Apparently his ex-wife had taken a chunk of his Amazon wealth. Good for her. Respect to his ex. In any case Jeff was another possibility, albeit with a time limit. Geriatric French guy, pass. And then she reached the top of the list. Elon Musk.
Oh, well look at that. The wealthiest man on earth, at a reasonable age, and she had to admit he was quite handsome. Definitely the best looking out of the list, although that was a low bar. She read on. Currently unmarried and with no current relationship. A bunch of kids from different women. Playboy. So many companies. Fuck. How did he manage them all? Tesla, SpaceX, X (RIP Twitter), Neuralink, etc... And who didn't know his name? Definitely famous, boarding on infamous. Certainly his tweets or X's were all over the place, like he just spewed out his random shower thoughts, which were sometimes funny, or bizarre, or provocative, or just plain confusing. Chaotic bad boy. Ariana liked chaos. Money, fame and power. Ariana had found her man.
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The glow of headlights cutting through the mist and rain brought her out of her reverie. A Tesla pulled under the carport. Silver streams of rain trickled off the gleaming red paint. She smirked at the red Tesla. What a perfect choice for her. The color of desire. The color of her new album. She stepped out her front door as the falcon wings of the car began to rise.
It was a bad idea. Ariana knew it. But it was going to happen. She wanted to feel what it was like to hold that kind of power. She deserved the best. Besides, it wasn't going to be anything serious. She was temporary. Hit it and quit it. A simple affair. The falcon wing clicked down and the Tesla took off, propelling her into her new era.
