So, are we just pretending every MMC isn’t a billionaire now?

Alright, I need answers. Is there a secret handbook somewhere that says every MMC in romance novels has to be a billionaire with a jawline sharp enough to cut diamonds and an entire fleet of private jets? Like, am I supposed to believe this man has 17 companies to run, a gym routine that rivals Chris Hemsworth’s, and somehow still has the time to pine over the FMC 24/7?

And don’t even get me started on their “tragic backstories.” Oh no, his parents didn’t hug him enough, so now he has commitment issues and thinks being emotionally unavailable is a personality trait. But don’t worry, he’ll be fixed by the power of love!

Meanwhile, the FMC is over here working three jobs, paying off student loans, and still finding time to bake cupcakes for her quirky best friend. Honestly, I’m more impressed with her time management than his billion-dollar empire.

Can we normalize MMCs who are just... normal? Like, give me a dude who works at a coffee shop, has a slightly messy apartment, and panics when his WiFi goes out. Let’s see some realistic stakes for once:

Will they get together before her cat eats his houseplants?

Can he survive meeting her entire family at a chaotic Thanksgiving dinner?

Will he finally fix the leaky faucet instead of calling his landlord again?

Don’t get me wrong, I love me a good fantasy, but sometimes I just want a romance novel where the most unrealistic thing is their ability to find parking in the city.