being in a relationship with rich businessman steve harrington and international rockstar eddie munson. traveling with them, the way they would take care of you and never let you ever want for a single thing. steve taking you with him places in his expensive cars, always driving far too fast for the way he keeps only steers with one hand as one always has to be on your thigh to just be near and touching you. eddie flying you with him when he has to travel to studios in california, just for an excuse to see you on a board walk in short shorts and his sunglasses. you’re their trophy wife, an untouchable that every other ceo of the intricate world of businesses spanning across several countries and every single shady musician eddie has worked with knows to not fuck with. tabloids when the three of you attend rooftop parties in italy, pap photos of you tangled up with eddie, giddy off champagne or wine and fancy finger foods you two indulged far too much in as steve is networking. the internet headlines break whenever you attend a charity gala with steve, always looking pretty on his arm as he makes absolute heart eyes at you, his safe place amongst such a cold and frigid world of boring contracts and men twice his age. eddie always making it clear in interviews that he’s your eye candy side piece, claiming that you’ve always been the brains in the relationship while he and steve are just there to care for you. steve getting no work done when you visit him in office. eddie using you (and steve) as his muse for every album.