Fake It to Make it Pt. 01

Chapter 1

Nev

The harsh lights pointed at me drew a light layer of perspiration to the surface of my skin. I moved and flowed the way the cameraman demanded as he barked out orders, though I kept the plastic smile on my face to keep Jeremy happy. The dais was shrouded in cherry blossoms peppered on the metal and paper mache branches that stretched across the backdrop. The setting was Paris in spring, and I was la piece de resistance.

"Perfect, yes! So good!" Jeremy crooned, clapping his hands emphatically. We'd been working together for the past year and he'd scored me some pretty amazing gigs, though this one for L'Oréal of Paris was the most high-profile. These shots--while not the actual shots for the cover--were a mere temptation for the account managers at the magazine. The real shots would be taken in the spring in Paris on La Champs Elysees.

"I'm exhausted," I said through gritted teeth, maintaining the smile I was known for, but the cameraman and Jeremy continued barking orders and snapping photos.

My body ached from the weight of a year's worth of stress. As the final photo clicked and the lights faded, a palpable sense of relief washed over me. Despite my exhaustion, there was a satisfying feeling in my muscles, a reminder of the hard work I had put in that afternoon. Glancing at the temporary Parisian set, I saw the cherry blossoms gleaming in the fading light. Amongst them, I had blended in seamlessly, embodying the vibrant energy of the city they represented.

"Beautiful work today, Nev," Jeremy exhaled, stepping forward with his hands on his hips. His ubiquitous grin danced in his eyes as he looked over the digital captures on the camera. "Absolutely stunning," he murmured, a glint of pride in his eyes. I wasn't just a model who signed with him; I was his ticket to fame.

I moved from the dais and began peeling off the layers of couture and makeup, revealing my natural complexion underneath. I felt both bare and free, reminding myself that I was more than just a canvas for art. I was the art itself.

"Nev," Jeremy called from behind the laptop where the cameraman was quickly downloding the images, "the folks at L'Oréal are sure to love these shots." His voice cut through the mellow hum of the emptying studio. "This could be your big break."

The euphoria in his voice was contagious, and as I observed him from a distance, my tired features softened into a hopeful smile. A ray of optimism began to seep into the furthest recesses of my tired soul at Jeremy's words; they were the promise of a future brighter than the studio's high-wattage lights.

"Just imagine," he continued, his enthusiasm seeping into his voice. "Billboards over Champs Elysees, magazine covers, talk shows, and even the red carpet at Cannes! You'll be Paris' new muse, Nev."

My heart fluttered at the prospect, but my current life was cluttered and messy, bogged down by the emotional stress of my best friend's squabble with her older brother and I didn't even know how I allowed myself to get roped into being their referee.

"That's great, Jeremy," I said, a little more half-heartedly than I planned, but he never caught my tone. I ducked into the dressing room and stripped off the white satin gown and heels.

I slipped into the comfort of soft jeans, a plain white tee, and a leather jacket that held the comforting scent of home. As I laced up my sneakers, I glanced at my reflection in the full-length mirror. The girl who looked back at me was unadorned, blonde hair settled atop her head in a messy bun. My natural features stood out, free from the layers of makeup that had been applied by the professionals.

Who'd have thought PS 118 would have produced America's next global supermodel. I grinned at myself as I really let Jeremy's words sink in. Never in a million years had I thought I'd have ditched my degree in computer science to be a model, but when that open audition called me back, I couldn't say no. Now, I was working with one of the fastest-rising agents in the industry and I was making waves.

Walking out of the dressing room, I heard Jeremy still excitedly talking - something about a press conference and a fitting with a Parisian designer. He was too engrossed in his conversation to notice my departure. I waved to the camera guy who was packing up his equipment, receiving a friendly nod in return.

As I exited the studio, stepping onto the bustling New York street, I felt the weight of the day slowly lifting from my shoulders. The city bustled like normal, and the sidewalk was teaming with people dressed in their suits and ties, hurrying to get home from work or heading out for their afternoon lunch break. I was headed to Nish Nush on John Street, my favorite Mediterranean place, and I was set to meet my best friend. Though I wasn't looking forward to hearing her compain about her brother again, especially not after I promised to help win her over so he coudl get back in her good graces.

I'd admit, he was a total jerk to her, but I was big on family. I had no siblings, so watching those two fight it out felt wrong. I wanted to help repair their relationship, so long as it didn't suck me in to drama. And I liked Beck too, so it was a good chance to get closer to him.

The cafe was just around the corner, a quaint little place tucked away in the heart of the bustling city, its exterior painted a soothing shade of teal. The familiar sight brought a touch of warmth to my tired eyes and a glimmer of hungry anticipation to my worn-out soul. As I neared the entrance, I recognized the old man seated by the window, engrossed in his book. He was always there, as predictable as the setting sun. He smiled and nodded at me as I pulled the door open and the bell rang.

Inside, Nish Nush was an oasis amidst Manhattan's concrete jungle, rich with exotic fragrances that filled the room with an intoxicating allure. Cici sat staring down at her phone; her long snady brown hair framed her face in and hid her expression from my view.

I sat across from her at our usual table for a few minutes, but she didn't say a word. I could tell something was weighing on her mind, and I waited patiently for her to open up to me. "Cease?" I said, nudging her and she sighed hard.

"Beck texted me again," she finally spoke, breaking the silence. I could see the irritation in her eyes, mild wrinkle lines around her eyes and across her forehead. She was so angry with him. He'd gone too far this time, trying to break her and her boyfriend up.

I raised an eyebrow, curious about what he had to say this time. "Oh really? What did he say?" I knew what he said. I knew he'd texted her too. I knew she'd ignore him. Beck and I had been speaking daily lately. He'd been begging me to hold true to my word, which Id' given him the night he showed up drunk at Cici's house while I waited for her to get takeout and bring it home for dinner. I told him I'd help him fix things with his sister, and then he kissed me.

Like, jaw-dropping, earth-shattering, panty melting kissed me. And one taste of that was all I needed to know I needed more of it. I'd been waiting years for Beck to look at me like that. He still hadn't, not even when he knew I'd been signed as a model.

"He wants to meet up with me," Cici replied, twisting a strand of hair between her fingers nervously.

"Meet up with you? Just like that?" I asked, feigning surprise and doing my best to keep my voice steady. We had been planning this for days now, Beck and I. He knew he couldn't confront Cici directly about his actions and the truth of why he had been behaving so badly. He needed a mediator, a go-between who would help him win over his sister's trust again. And that was me.

I reached over the table to give her hand a reassuring squeeze, and her brown, doe-like eyes met mine. "I can't believe he thinks I even want to speak to him. He sent Kendra to Beck's house--naked. And I was there. And I had to see her drape herself all over his body. I'm so fucking mad!"

I winced at her reaction, only halfway expecting it. Yes, Beck was an ass. Sending Drew's ex-girlfriend to try to seduce him aws one thing, but planning breakfast with Cici to distract her while it happened was even worse. He had issues, but he was sorry, and I wanted to help him make it right.

"Maybe you should try to see it from--"

"His point of view?" She rolled her eyes at me and looked at the menu we both knew she had memorized already.

My eyes looked up at the busy counter where the clerk was probably waiting for us to come place our order. But given her mood I doubted she'd even want to eat. Cici refused to let Beck even apologize, though I couldn't blame her. He'd been the instigator of every bad prank played on us back in high school, and all those years of frustration were coming out now in the form of shunning him from all communication.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, hoping to redeem the lunch hour somehow. But the entire atmosphere seemed tainted now, polluted by my compulsion to fix things and her rage that seemed unfixable.

"I'm not really hungry anymore." She put the menu down and frowned at me. "Can we please just agree not to talk about him?"

My lip quivered as I squeaked out: "Sure." And I wanted to mean it, but a promise is a promise, and I had given Beck my word. In fact, I'd more than promised. I'd sealed it with a kiss, though I didn't think he meant it as anything more than a hasty, not-well-though-out, celebratory action.

"I'll call you later," she said sliding off the chair.

I wiggled my fingers in a goodbye and the handsome, short-statured waiter approached me. We'd come here so often he knew what I'd order before I even went to the counter. I smiled at him, though it was fake, and accepted the hummus and chips and in a quick, almost wordless exchange, he was back to the kitchen to prepare my sabich and fries.

I ate alone, feeling down after that negative exchange. I hadn't even gotten a chance to tell Cici about my excitement over the L'Oréal account. And when I had no more than finished my last bite of food, my phone chirped--Beck calling for a check in.

"Hey," I mumbled, not really feeling up to talk to him. Any other time I would have died to talk to him one on one. My crush had been so longstanding I'd lost the butterfly feeling in my gut when I saw him, but it still made my heart flutter when he said my name. I hoped that never stopped happening.

"So how'd it go?" he asked, sounding eager. I could also tell he'd had at least a few drinks. His words were slightly slurred. He'd had a bad drinking problem for years, but this tiff with Cici had only made the problem worse.

"Not good. She's super pissed, dude." I tried to keep things casual, perfunctory almost. I didn't want him to know how hard I was trying. I didn't want to catch real feelings for him in the middle of all of this. I didn't think I really had a chance with him--but a girl can dream.

"Fuck..." He sighed hard and then growled in frustration. "Alright, well we need to regroup. You're my only hope, Nev. You have to convince her to meet up with me. You know? I have to see her and apologize."

My mind wanted to scold him, tell him if he hadn't acted so childishly she wouldn't be so upset, but he really was sorry. He knew he fucked up royally, and my heart went out to him.

"Yeah, okay. So when and where?"

"My house, tonight."

My heart froze. Beck's house? Without Cici there?" The last time I was at Beck's house was a few months ago. Cici had been staying with him while the contractors got her apartment ready. She'd only just returned from college and an internship in Columbus, Ohio. And she'd been with me. How would I walk into that bachelor pad alone, with the man who made my panties wet every time I saw him?

"Uh..." I swallowed hard, trying to make my brain unfreeze. If I wanted him to think of me as more than just his younger sister's best friend, I had to show up and show off.

"Is that okay?" He sounded impatient, and I coughed to cover the lull in conversation.

"Yeah, great. I'll be there. What time?"

"Six. Don't be late. I'll get food."

"Alright--" I said, but the line clicked and he was gone.

My heart should have been soaring at the chance of being alone with him, but I knew in my gut he didn't think of me that way. He was only trying to fix things with Cici. And I wanted that. The problem was, I wanted so much more too.

I wanted him.

And I didn't know how to hide that.

Chapter 2

Beer in hand, I kicked my shoes off by the door and dropped the plastic sack holding the little while boxes of Chinese food onto my dining room table. Usually I welcomed the silence of this place after a long day of work, having chosen to get an apartment in building where mostly retired people lived, but since parting ways with my sister and my best friend, it seemed too quiet. Home was a refuge from the noise of life, but life had gotten pretty quiet lately.

I slurped the beer, downing the rest of the contents, then tossed the empty bottle into the trash before heading to my bedroom. Even the open concept living area felt uncomfortable, like it was hollow and empty. I paused by the door to the spare bedroom where Cici had stayed for a few weeks when she first moved back from Columbus. The sheets and comforter were still tossed in a pile on the center of the mattress like she left them, closet door still ajar. I pulled the door shut and weaved past the couch and love seat.

My room was a mess, like normal. Clothing strewn about had been shed in haste as I changed from one activity to another, and I had a random pile of shoes at the foot of my bed too. I made a good amount of money, but still thought it was pointless to hire a made. I might have to rethink that though, especially if Nev was going to be coming to my house for little soirees like tonight.

I peeled off my suit and tie and slipped into a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt. I felt bad for the state of my apartment but I'd never been an organized person, and I had zero time to clean up after myself once I got home from an exhausting day at work. My meals were mostly takeout or delivery, evidenced by the pile of boxes near my trash bin, and the only time this place had been clean was when Cici lived here. Which just happened to coincide with the only time Nev had ever been here.

Deciding I had to do at least something to make the place more presentable, I headed back out to the living room and picked up the empty beer bottles and pop cans sitting around the room. Then I took the trash out and dropped it down the trash chute, took a dust broom over the place and called it even. The beer in the fridge was calling my name and my stomach rumbled for dinner.

Just as I tore open the plastic sack with tonight's Chinese dinner, I heard knocking. I jogged over to the door and opened it to reveal Nev. Her honey-blonde hair was tied up on her head in a messy bun; she wore an oversized pink sweater--bra strap bared on a shoulder that peeked out, and though she looked fantastic, she also looked annoyed.

"Hey," I said, jerking my head upward toward the table. "You're just in time. I was sitting down for dinner."

"Good, I'm hungry." Nev's expression as she walked into the apartment was one of disgust, though she camouflaged it well behind a bright smile. I was glad I'd spent the few minutes cleaning that I did or she would never have been able to mask that reaction.

"Cici hasn't responded to me yet," I told her as I locked the door and joined her as she sat down at the tired round table. It came straight out of my parents' house after their death. Gran and Poppop put it into storage along with all their other furniture, so when I got this place, they let me do some "shopping" to furnish it. They'd done the same for Cici but she was able to afford brand new things. When I got this place I was barely able to move out on my own.

I sat across from Nev who pulled a set of plastic-wrapped chopsticks out of the bag and opened one of the white square containers. Steam wafted upward and she grimaced and pushed it toward me. "Kung pow chicken," she grunted as she reached into the bag for another container. Somewhere in there was her favorite, and I didn't even have to try hard to remember.

"Thanks." I took the container and reached behind me to open a drawer and get out a fork. I never could use chopsticks, but Nev had been overseas multiple times with her family and probably learned firsthand how to use them when she visited the far east. "So how did lunch go? You didn't really say much on the call."

Then night I showed up drunk at Cici's house and Nev offered to help me find a way back into my sister's life, I had never been more grateful. Nev and Cici were like sisters, or the closest thing either of them had to one. It was just me and Cici as kids, but Nev was alone, an only child born to artistic parents who had no time for raising a litter. And Cici lived vicariously through Nev when it came to a relationship with a parent and of course all the travels Nev did. At times Cici went with Nev and her parents, and I was stuck with Drew.

"Well you ruined it by messaging her." Nev rolled her eyes at me sardonically, and I sighed. "She was pissed before I even showed up. She said she wasn't hungry, went off on me for talking about you, and then left. I ate alone and went back to work to be badgered about my figure yet again. You know, Jeremy is a real jerk sometimes. Says I'mgoing to be the next big thing in modeling, and then scolds me for gaining a single fucking pound." Nev shovels a huge bite of general Tso's chicken into her mouth and I chuckle.

"Ever wonder why you gain so much?" I asked, smirking at the way she devoured the food.

"Shut up." She snickered with me and then shrugged a shoulder. "She'll come around."

I scowled into my takeout box and had a bite. While I was chewing I thought of Mr. Winslow and the struggles with his account. I had a degree in finance, but it was supposed to carry me into being an accountant or at most a tax preparation officer. When Drew insisted that I could make money like him in investment banking I made the leap, but he was supposed to be here to teach me everything and walk me through all these issues. Now he wasn't speaking to me at all and I was on the hook for some really important contracts.

"This just fucking sucks. So I messed up again; I don't see why she has to make Drew stop talking to me too." I jammed the fork into the container and piled the food on it and brought it to my mouth but some fell onto my lap and Nev raised an eyebrow at me.

"Beck, you literally sent his ex over to his house in just a trench coat to seduce him. She watched the whole thing. Of course she's pissed at you." Nev waved her chopsticks around in the air and the room fell silent in the wake of that pronouncement.

Guilt was the least of my negative emotions. Cici and I were all each other had once Gran and Poppop passed away, and given the fact that they were in their nineties and not getting any younger, that could be any time now. What would I do without her? How would she live her life without my help or advice?

"Look I have an idea," she said, setting her chopsticks to the side. She folded her hands in front of herself and leaned on the table. It shifted slightly, wobbling on the uneven legs, and I steadied it as she raised an eyebrow and continued. "What if we date?"

Her question was so off the wall I almost burst out laughing. Nev was hot; I'd give her that, but just like Drew was my best friend and therefore off limits to Cici, I could never date her. She and Cici were best friends. Only bad things would come from that inevitable breakup. I had never held a relationship longer than six months and that was saying something. I was cursed or something, and besides, when women were done with you and left, it hurt like hell. Nev had a career in modeling that meant she was in the spotlight for millions of men. I not only didn't' want that competition but I wanted a woman who was home with me every night, not off galivanting around the globe having nude images of herself plastered in magazines and on billboards.