Three Parties and a Chaos Gremlin
Kids, there are a lot of ways to embarrass yourself for love.
You can send flowers. You can write a song.
Or, in my case, you can throw three parties in three nights just to see one woman again.
And if that sounds bad, wait until you add your younger brother into the mix.
---
MacLaren's was loud that night, full of strangers and cheap beer and the warm glow of other people's bad decisions. I was halfway through mine.
"So let me get this straight," Nox said, squinting over the top of a highball glass. "You met her once, you haven't called her, and your plan is… events?"
He was sprawled in the booth like he owned it, one arm hooked over the backrest, long legs stretched out, Nyx Co jacket catching the light every time he moved. Lean, casual, annoyingly cool. He and I had the same nose, the same general Mosby structure, but somehow when Nox walked into a room he looked like a magazine spread and I looked like the before picture.
"It's not just events," I said. "It's… an opportunity to bump into her. Casually. Naturally."
"So stalking, but catered," Nox nodded. "Got it."
Across from us, Barney slammed his drink down.
"Thank you!" he said, pointing at Nox like he'd just discovered a new species. "See, Teddy, even your billion-dollar goblin brother agrees—this is psychotic. Fun. But psychotic."
"For the millionth time," Nox muttered, "I don't have a billion. Yet."
Marshall slid into the booth next to me, cheeks a little flushed, Lily right behind him. Lily shoved a bowl of pretzels toward the center of the table.
"What's psychotic?" she asked. "And is it Ted? It's usually Ted."
I took a breath, which was my first mistake.
"Okay," I said. "So you guys remember Robin."
"The reporter?" Lily asked. "Cool hair, great blazer, probably knows where to find real coffee in this city?"
"Yeah," I said, smiling before I could stop myself. "That Robin."
Nox watched my face the way surgeons probably watch EKGs.
"She told him," he announced to the table, "that she doesn't want a relationship, and Teddy here, bless his sitcom heart, decided he's too grown-up for casual."
"That's… actually mature," Marshall said, surprised. "Good job, man."
"Thank you," I said, nodding. "Exactly. I'm done with flings. I'm ready for—"
The bar door opened, and the universe decided to make a point.
Robin walked in, wind in her hair, scarf trailing, laughing at something the camera guy said behind her. She spotted us, waved, and headed over.
My heart did that thing where it slammed into my ribs, then forgot what rhythm was.
Future Me sighed.
Kids, if you ever tell yourself you're over someone, and then your stomach flips like a gymnast the second they walk into the room? You're not over them.
---
"Hey, guys," Robin said, dropping her bag at the end of the booth. She gave everyone quick hugs—Lily, Marshall, Barney—and then, after a beat, me.
And then she saw Nox.
"You must be the famous little brother," she said, eyebrows lifting.
"I prefer 'devastating prodigy,' but I'll take that," Nox said, standing to shake her hand. "Nox Mosby. Tech gremlin. Fashion war criminal. Ted's cooler DNA."
"Now see, that's just hurtful," I muttered.
Robin laughed, and for a second, I hated every chromosome I shared with this man.
Bryce wasn't there that night. She was back in L.A., filming something I pretended I wasn't impressed by. But Nox didn't need a supporting actress—he generated his own spotlight.
"So what are you guys up to?" Robin asked, sliding in beside Lily. "Please tell me it's something embarrassing Ted is doing."
Barney pointed at me like he was unveiling a magic trick.
"Oh, it's big," he said. "Our boy here is about to throw a party."
I tried to interject. Failed.
"A party?" Robin perked up. "What's the occasion?"
"Desperation," Nox said quickly. "Sorry, did I say that out loud?"
Lily smacked him lightly with a napkin. "Be nice to your brother."
"I am being nice," he said. "If I wasn't nice, I'd mention the part where this is actually Party Number One in a series of increasingly pathetic gatherings to lure you to his apartment."
I felt my face go hot.
"Nox," I hissed.
Robin's eyes widened, then softened with that amused empathy she did so well.
"Wait, what?" she asked, grinning. "You're throwing a party?"
"It's just a little get-together," I said quickly. "You know. People. Drinks. Music. Nothing fancy."
Barney leaned in.
"And completely unrelated to your presence," he added. "Total coincidence that it's happening after you show up at the bar and Ted realizes he has zero plan to see you again."
"Wow," Robin said, looking between us. "That's… adorably creepy."
She smiled, though. Really smiled. And in that smile, I saw hope, chaos, and at least one expensive mistake in my future.
"Text me the details," she said. "If I'm not working, I'll swing by."
She squeezed my shoulder before joining a colleague by the bar.
As soon as she left, the table exploded.
"Okay, okay," Marshall said, bouncing. "She said she might come. That's good, right? That's a good sign."
"It's a sign she's polite," Nox said. "This doesn't make the plan less deranged. Just… more possible."
Barney threw an arm around my shoulders.
"Buddy," he said, eyes shining, "we are going to throw the greatest party this building has ever seen. Two words: roof keg."
"There's no roof access," I said.
"Then we break in," Barney replied, as if it were obvious.
Lily leaned over to Nox.
"So is he always like this?" she whispered.
"Pretty much," Nox said. "But don't worry. I'll make sure he doesn't accidentally burn the place down trying to impress her."
I looked at him.
"You'll help?" I asked.
He shrugged, pretending to be bored, but I knew that look. Nox loved a project, especially one that promised drama.
"Someone has to keep this from turning into a fire hazard," he said. "Plus, watching you crash and burn is my favorite reality show."
Future Me cleared his throat.
Kids, if you ever have a younger sibling whose favorite hobby is chaos, don't involve them in your romantic plans.
Unfortunately, I hadn't learned that yet.
---
The apartment looked different the next night.
Our coffee table had become a snack bar. Strings of lights that I didn't own were draped along the walls. The stereo setup was better than anything Marshall and I could afford, which was my first clue Nox had raided Nyx Co storage for "testing purposes."
"Where did you even get all this?" I asked, staring at the speakers.
"A warehouse," Nox said. "You know, where grown-up toys live."
He was leaning against the kitchen counter, hair tied back, sleeves rolled up, a Nyx Co T-shirt fitting him like it had been custom-tailored—because it probably had.
"Relax," he added, tossing me a beer. "People are going to love it. You've got lighting, music, alcohol, and vague emotional desperation. That's the whole party formula."
I twisted the cap off.
"What if she doesn't come?" I asked before I could stop myself.
Nox studied me for a long moment.
"Then you had a party," he said simply. "Worst case, you made some good memories and wasted a perfectly decent Friday. There are worse tragedies, Ted."
Marshall poked his head out of the bedroom, tie crooked.
"Do we have more cups?" he asked. "Lily says these are 'too plastic.'"
"You realize cups are literally made of plastic, right?" Nox asked.
"I know," Marshall said. "That's what I said. Then she gave me that look."
"Ah," Nox nodded. "The look that says 'choose your words carefully or sleep on the couch?'"
"Exactly."
"In that case, top shelf, brown box," Nox pointed toward the kitchen. "Paper. Recyclable. Tell her Nyx Co is big on sustainability. She'll forgive the rest."
Marshall beamed. "I love you, man."
"Everyone does," Nox said mildly.
The buzzer sounded.
My heartbeat tried to climb into my throat.
"Is that—?"
"Probably not," Nox said. "It's the first thirty seconds. That's either Barney or someone selling religion."
He was half-right. It was Barney, and arguably the same thing.
---
People trickled in. Friends of friends. Coworkers. Neighbors I vaguely recognized from the elevator. Music filled the apartment, bouncing off walls that were not meant to hold that many humans.
Barney had turned the event into a personal recruiting drive for new "wing opportunities." Marshall and Lily were in the corner, arguing about whether the plant on our windowsill was dying from lack of sunlight or too much love.
Nox drifted through the room like he was running a wireless update on the whole party—adjusting volume here, moving snacks there, unobtrusively fixing a wobbly chair before anyone fell on it.
He caught me glancing at the door. A lot.
"You know," he said eventually, appearing at my elbow with a fresh drink, "if you stare at it any harder, you're going to manifest a security guard, not Robin."
"I'm not staring," I lied.
"Uh-huh."
"She said she'd try to come," I added.
"Which is code for 'if I'm free and not exhausted and emotionally available enough to watch you orbit me,'" Nox said. "Which is valid. She's got a job, you know."
I sighed, taking the drink.
"You don't think this is romantic?" I asked.
He looked around: crowded apartment, mismatched lamps, Barney trying to juggle coasters for some reason.
"I think it's earnest," Nox said. "Romantic is what she decides it is. You did something. That's more than most people."
Future Me paused.
Kids, that was the thing about your Uncle Nox. He made fun of me, constantly. He called me out when I was being ridiculous. But beneath all the sarcasm, he believed in me more than I did.
He just refused to do it without insult.
---
An hour in, my hope started to feel like a balloon slowly leaking air.
Barney had taken over the music. Lily was deep in conversation with a girl about art and teaching. Marshall was telling a story with too many hand gestures, nearly knocking over one of Nox's borrowed speakers.
No Robin.
I checked my phone again. No messages.
Nox appeared at my side, following my gaze.
"Nothing?" he asked.
"Maybe she got stuck at work," I said. "Or maybe she forgot. Or maybe…" I trailed off.
"Or maybe she's not coming," Nox finished. "And that has to be okay too."
He took the empty bottle from my hand and replaced it with a fresh one.
"Tonight isn't a referendum on your whole life, Ted," he said quietly. "It's just a night where a girl maybe didn't make it to a party."
"And if she had?"
"Then it would just be a night where a girl did make it to a party," he said. "You still have to figure out how to talk to her like a human."
He glanced around at the packed apartment.
"Besides," he added, "this place is full of people. You're allowed to have fun even if Plan A doesn't show up in a cute blazer."
I looked at the crowd. At my friends. At my little brother, who somehow made a New York party hosted by a nervous architect feel like something out of a commercial.
He was right. Not that I was going to tell him that.
"Fine," I said. "I'll… circulate."
"There you go," Nox said, clapping my shoulder. "Worst case, you meet someone cool. Best case, Robin shows up later and finds you mid-laugh instead of mid-panic. Either way, you win."
I took a breath, forced my feet to move, and walked into the crowd.
I wish I could say that was the moment I stopped obsessing about Robin and just enjoyed myself, but… I'm me.
Still, for a little while, I forgot to watch the door.
Which is why, when the knock came, I was on the other side of the room.
And Nox was the one who opened it.
Nox opened the door.
For half a second, the apartment noise dimmed, like the whole party was holding its breath with me.
Then a guy in a pizza uniform lifted a box.
"Large pepperoni?" he asked.
Nox blinked.
"You're not Robin," he said.
The delivery guy frowned. "Uh… no?"
"Don't worry about him," Nox said, stepping aside. "You're actually the most important person here tonight."
He took the boxes, tossed the guy a wad of cash that looked way too thick for New York pizza etiquette, and shut the door.
Across the room, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Hope slipped a little further away, like a balloon just barely out of reach.
Kids, that was the first party.
It wasn't the last.
---
By the time the last guest left and Barney had been physically dragged out of the hallway by Marshall, the apartment looked like a crime scene committed by confetti and potato chips.
Empty cups. Crumpled napkins. A mysterious sticky patch on the floor I refused to investigate.
Nox stood in the middle of it all, hands in his pockets, surveying the damage like a general after a battle.
"Well," he said, "no casualties. Except your dignity."
I dropped onto the couch.
"She didn't come," I said, unnecessarily.
"Or she did come," Nox replied, "and saw the number of drunk idiots playing charades with Barney and turned around. Either way, she's alive, you're alive, the world spins."
"It was stupid," I said. "The whole thing. Throwing a party for one person."
"Yes," he said. "It was also kind of sweet. In a deranged, Mosby way."
He sat on the arm of the chair across from me, studying my face.
"You going to call her?" he asked. "Like a normal human?"
"I don't want to seem desperate."
"Buddy," Nox said, "you threw a party to see her. That ship has sailed, hit an iceberg, and is at the bottom of the Atlantic."
I stared at the ceiling.
"What if—hear me out—we try again," I said slowly. "One more party. But framed differently. Less… obvious?"
He squinted.
"You're pitching me a sequel," he said. "Ted's Party 2: The Desperationing."
"It's not desperation," I insisted. "It's… giving fate another chance."
Nox rubbed his face.
"Okay," he sighed. "You know what? Fine. One more. But if we hit three, I'm staging an intervention and maybe a small exorcism."
Future Me groaned.
Kids, this is the part where you're supposed to learn from your mistakes. Instead, I raised the stakes.
---
The next day at MacLaren's, the gang listened to my brilliant plan with varying degrees of concern.
"So let me get this straight," Robin said, leaning on the table, amused. "You had a party last night, I couldn't make it, so… you're doing it again tonight?"
"Not because of you," I lied.
Lily choked on her drink.
"I mean, you're invited," I added quickly, "but it's more like… we had a lot of leftover food."
"We don't have that much leftover food," Marshall said.
"And people had fun," I continued, talking over him. "So we thought, hey, why not keep it going?"
Barney put an arm around my shoulder in fake solidarity.
"What my love-struck friend is trying to say," he told Robin, "is that he is once again hosting a completely casual, not at all emotionally loaded social gathering. And it would be su—" He caught himself, glanced at Nox, and shifted. "It would be awesome if you came."
Nox, sitting on the other side of the booth, stirred his drink.
"Just to clarify," he said, "this is Party Number Two. In case anyone's keeping track of Ted's descent into rom-com madness."
Robin smiled, half teasing, half soft.
"I'll try," she said. "I've got a late shoot, but if we wrap in time, maybe I'll swing by."
"There," I said, too quickly. "Great. No pressure."
"None," Nox repeated. "No pressure. Just the structural integrity of Teddy's soul hanging in the balance."
I kicked him under the table.
He didn't even pretend to be sorry.
---
Party Number Two started smaller.
Fewer people. Less hype. More secondhand embarrassment.
We put the music on, put the snacks out, and then… waited.
Every time the buzzer rang, my heart jumped. Every time it was someone who wasn't Robin—neighbor, coworker, Barney returning from an ice run—I felt that little deflation again.
Nox tried. I'll give him that.
He made conversation. He tweaked the lighting. He adjusted the playlist so it didn't sound exactly like last night's.
At one point, Lily cornered him by the counter.
"Okay, business genius," she said, waving a plastic cup, "you love him, right?"
"Unfortunately," Nox said.
"So why are you enabling this?" she demanded.
He scratched his jaw.
"Because he's not ready to give up yet," Nox said. "And sometimes you have to follow the stupid idea all the way through before your brain lets it go."
"That's… strangely wise," Lily said.
"I had a lot of bored afternoons in Ohio to think about this stuff," he said. "Also, I can't stop him. I can only try to keep the damage to a minimum."
The buzzer rang again.
"Maybe that's her," Lily said.
"It's not," Nox said automatically.
He was right. It was Barney. Again.
By midnight, half the guests had left. By one, we were down to Marshall, Lily, Barney, a half-asleep guy from upstairs, and Nox wiping down the counter.
No Robin.
I stood by the window, looking out at the street, watching taxis blur under the streetlights.
"This is pathetic, isn't it," I said.
Nox came to stand beside me.
"Little bit," he said. "But like, endearing pathetic. Not 'call the cops' pathetic."
"That's comforting," I said dryly.
He nudged my shoulder.
"Look, Teddy. You tried. Twice. That's… more than most people do. At some point, you have to accept that if she wants to see you, she will call. Or show up. Or something. You can't keep rearranging your life around a maybe."
I breathed out slowly.
"Yeah," I said. "You're right. Okay. No more parties."
"Good," Nox said. "Because I was one RSVP away from calling a therapist."
Behind us, Barney popped his head up over the couch.
"Or," Barney said, eyes gleaming, "one more party."
---
Kids, you might think at this point I would have stood my ground. I had plenty of reasons not to throw a third party: my pride, my time, my already strained relationship with the neighbors.
Instead, I listened to Barney.
And worse… I listened to myself.
---
"You're insane," Nox said the next afternoon, watching me drag a bag of plastic cups into the apartment.
"I know," I said. "But I keep thinking… I'm close. Like the universe is almost lined up."
"That's not the universe," he said. "That's you stacking Jenga blocks of hope and then acting surprised when they wobble."
I dropped the bag on the counter.
"One more," I said. "I promise. Last one. Then I'll stop."
He looked at me for a long moment, something like sympathy flickering over his features.
"You're going to get hurt," he said quietly.
"I know," I said. "But I'd rather get hurt because I tried too hard than spend the rest of my life wondering what would've happened if I'd tried a little more."
He snorted softly.
"God, you're such a Mosby," he said. "Fine. One more."
He pulled out his phone, thumb flying over the screen.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Texting Bryce," he said. "Telling her I'm about to witness the romantic equivalent of a slow-motion car crash."
"Tell her I say hi," I muttered.
"I did," he said. "Her reply is: 'Tell Ted good luck and also maybe stop doing this.'"
"Noted," I said.
---
The third party had a weird energy from the start.
The first two felt like setups for something that never happened. This one felt like the universe had finally decided to show up and watch.
More people came than I expected. Word had gotten around. Apparently, "random architect and his weirdly hot younger brother keep hosting free-drink nights" was a compelling draw.
Barney treated it like a grand finale, showing up in a suit even sharper than usual. Lily and Marshall came armed with board games "just in case it dies early." Nox drifted through it all, somewhat distant, like he couldn't decide whether to enjoy the chaos or brace for impact.
I was standing near the door when the buzzer rang.
"Who is it?" I asked into the intercom, trying to sound casual.
"Hey," Robin's voice crackled through. "It's me."
For a second, the room blurred.
"Oh," I said brilliantly. "Cool. Come on up."
I hit the buzzer, heart pounding, and turned around, trying to look… normal. Relaxed. Not like I'd built three nights of my life around one woman's face.
Nox appeared at my side, eyebrow raised.
"That her?" he asked.
"Yeah," I breathed. "She's coming up."
He studied me.
"You can still back out," he said. "Just… be cool. Talk to her like she's a person, not a prophecy."
I nodded, nerves fizzing.
There was a knock at the door.
I opened it, smiling—and stalled.
Robin was there. So was a guy.
Tall, good-looking, hair too perfect, wearing a casual button-down that probably cost more than my bed.
"Hey," Robin said. "This is Derek. My… friend. He was in the neighborhood and I thought—"
"Hey, man," Derek said, sticking out a hand. "Great place. Smells like pizza and regret."
I shook his hand on reflex.
"Oh, cool," I said, voice higher than usual. "Yeah. Nice to meet you. Come on in."
Behind me, I could feel Nox's eyebrows climbing into his hairline.
Kids, that was the moment I realized something very important:
Sometimes, the universe does show up.
It just brings a plus-one.
---
Robin and Derek melted into the party quickly. She laughed, tossed her hair, introduced him around. They looked good together. Too good.
I tried to mingle. I really did. I talked to Marshall. I checked on snacks. I laughed at something Lily said.
But wherever I went, my eyes kept finding them.
Laughing on the couch.
Talking by the window.
Leaning in close so she could be heard over the music.
At one point, I saw her touch his arm, just for a second, and something in my chest did that awful twist again.
I was mid-spiral when Nox stepped in front of me.
"Come with me," he said.
"What?" I asked.
"Take a walk," he said. "Before you do something extremely on-brand and painful."
He guided me through the throng, out the apartment door, and down the hallway to the fire escape window.
Cool night air hit my face as we stepped outside.
Below us, the city hummed. Inside, the muffled thump of music and laughter blurred into one indistinct sound.
I leaned on the railing.
"This sucks," I said.
"Yeah," Nox said. "It does."
I waited for the joke. The tease. The sarcastic jab.
It didn't come.
"I thought…" I started, then shook my head. "I don't know. Maybe if I tried hard enough, it'd work out."
"You threw three parties to see one person," Nox said. "On effort alone, you deserve a medal. But effort doesn't make people ready for the same thing you are."
I stared at my hands.
"She said she didn't want anything serious," I said. "I heard her. I just… didn't listen."
"That's your thing," Nox said gently. "You believe in love so much you think you can outwork timing."
That one stung. Mostly because it was true.
"But look at it this way," he added. "Now you know. She's dating. She's not waiting for a grand gesture. You can stop trying to build a rom-com moment out of thin air."
I swallowed.
"So what do I do?" I asked.
"Be her friend, if you can handle it," Nox said. "Or take some space until you can. Either way, for the love of all that is structurally sound, stop throwing parties for this woman."
I laughed, sudden and sharp.
"Yeah," I said. "Okay. No more parties."
We stood there in silence for a minute, the city breathing around us.
Inside, I heard Barney's voice booming something about "legendary," followed by Lily telling him to stop using my coasters as poker chips.
Future Me cleared his throat.
Kids, your Uncle Nox was right. I couldn't make Robin ready by wanting it hard enough. I couldn't build an apartment party strong enough to change fate.
But that night, I also learned something else:
You can't skip the part where it hurts.
---
After a while, the fire escape window slid open.
Robin poked her head out.
"There you are," she said. "I've been looking for you."
I straightened, heart doing that annoying little jump again.
"Oh," I said. "Hey. Just getting some air."
Nox glanced between us, then clapped my shoulder.
"I'll go make sure Barney hasn't started an indoor cigar lounge," he said. "You two talk."
He slipped back inside, closing the window behind him.
Robin stepped out onto the fire escape, wrapping her arms around herself against the chill.
"It's nice out here," she said.
"Yeah," I said. "Quieter. Less… people accidentally yelling 'chug' in your ear."
She laughed softly.
"Sorry I brought Derek without asking," she said. "That was kind of rude."
"No, it's fine," I lied. "The more the merrier. Parties are… parties."
She studied me for a second.
"Ted," she said, "you know we're just… friends, right?"
There it was. The word. The verdict.
I nodded, throat dry.
"Yeah," I said. "Of course. Friends. Absolutely."
"Because you're great," she added quickly. "And I really like hanging out with you. I just… I'm not in a place for anything heavy right now."
"I know," I said. "I get it."
And I did. I hated it, but I got it.
She smiled sadly.
"Good," she said. "I don't want to lose this. The group, you, everything."
"You won't," I said.
In that moment, I meant it. Even if it meant swallowing how I felt. Even if it meant pretending my heart wasn't currently wearing a nametag that said Hello, my name is Idiot.
We stood there, side by side, looking out over the city.
Inside, my party went on without me.
"You throw a good party," Robin said after a moment.
I snorted.
"Funny," I said. "This was the last one."
She nudged my shoulder with hers.
"Sure it was," she said.
---
Later that night, after the last guest left and the apartment collapsed back into its natural state of cluttered exhaustion, Nox found me on the couch.
He dropped a bottle of water in my lap and sat across from me.
"So," he said. "How bad was it?"
I considered lying. Then shrugged.
"She said we're friends," I said. "Emphasized it, actually. Underlined. Maybe highlighted."
He winced.
"Yikes," he said. "You okay?"
"I will be," I said. "Eventually."
He nodded, accepting that.
"You know," he said, "for what it's worth? I'm proud of you."
I blinked.
"For failing?" I asked.
"For trying," he said. "And for not pretending it didn't hurt. That's harder than throwing parties."
I looked around the once-more quiet apartment: empty cups, scattered plates, the fading echo of laughter, the ghost of what I'd hoped it would be.
I sighed.
"You're sticking around a while?" I asked. "Or do you have to jet off to some Nyx Co emergency?"
He smirked.
"I'll be in the city for a bit," he said. "R&D stuff. New line. Also, someone has to make sure you don't turn your heartbreak into a jazz-themed fondue night."
"That was one time," I said.
He raised an eyebrow. "It was zero times, and I intend to keep it that way."
Future Me smiled.
Kids, that was how your Uncle Nox operated. He couldn't protect me from every bad choice. He couldn't keep me from falling for Robin. He couldn't stop me from throwing those parties.
But when it all fell apart, he was there. With sarcasm. With water. With the kind of quiet presence that made the crash hurt a little less.
And as for Robin… well.
That was just the beginning of that story.