Fake-Dating A Star

Lila Michaels carefully dabbed the last spot of red ink onto her client’s arm, feeling a wry smile tug at the corner of her lips. It was Christmas Eve, and she was tattooing a Santa skull on a twenty-something guy who insisted on wearing a reindeer sweater and humming Jingle Bells. She’d endured a lot of holiday-themed tattoos in her time—candy canes, holly wreaths, mistletoe symbols—but this one topped them all. “Hey, there it is.” She leaned back, taking in her handiwork. “Your festive skull of holiday doom is officially complete.” The guy craned his neck to see it in the mirror, grinning wide. “f**k yes! Just what I need. The guys are gonna love it.” He slapped a twenty into her tip jar. “Thanks, Lila. You’re the best.” She gave a mock salute. “Anytime, Rudolph.” As he headed out, Lila glanced around the studio. It was empty, save for the faint twinkle of colored lights strung up by one of her coworkers who had apparently thought they could bring her “holiday cheer.” Cute attempt, but Lila was immune to the stuff. December felt like any other month to her, just with a lot more pressure to pretend she cared about things like eggnog and ugly sweaters. She cleaned up her station, her movements methodical, her mind already drifting toward the end of the day. It was her last shift before the holiday break, and she couldn’t wait to escape the madness. Maybe she'd stop by her boyfriend's place and engage in some de-stressing activities on her way back. She was due to close up in fifteen minutes, but as she started to pack away her supplies, her phone buzzed on the counter. It was Matt, calling right on cue. She put him on speaker, letting his voice fill the empty room. “Hey, Lila,” he said, his tone cheerful as always. “Just wanted to check in. Wrapping up work?” “Yep. Just did my final holiday tattoo—a Santa skull, of all things. Really puts me in the holiday spirit,” she said dryly, rolling her eyes even though he couldn’t see her. He chuckled. “Come on, you’re making memories, right? Tattoos are forever.” “Exactly. Which is why I have to endure ‘Jingle Bells’ on loop and every customer asking if I do holiday discounts. That’s been my December.” She finished cleaning her tools, then leaned against the counter, watching the soft snowfall through the studio window. “Honestly, I don’t get the hype. It’s all just a lot of red and green, forced cheer, and everyone pretending life is perfect.” She'd rather be home with him having their sweaty bodies rubbing against each other. “You’re so cynical,” he teased. “One day, the holiday spirit’s going to get to you. Maybe we just need to do something to make it magical.” “Like what?” She let out a little laugh, trying to picture herself as one of those wide-eyed, holiday-loving people who put wreaths on their doors and drank hot cocoa by a fire. Not her style. “Oh, you’re going to love what I have planned,” he said, his voice slipping into that smooth, too-casual tone that he used when he thought he was being clever. “Please tell me it’s not another ugly sweater party.” The last one had been almost painful. “Nope,” he replied, stretching out the silence just long enough to get her curiosity. “It’s a little bigger than that.” Lila frowned, brushing a stray strand of black hair back behind her ear. She could practically feel him grinning through the phone, and it made her want to shake it out of him faster. “Spill it already, Matt.” He paused, as if savoring the moment. “We’re going on a cruise. A New Year’s cruise. I’ve got us a cabin, and we leave in two days.” She blinked, her brain stalling for a second. “Wait, a cruise? Like, an actual cruise?” “Yep! It’s all set. Seven days on the ocean, luxury cabin, champagne at midnight, the whole thing. It’s going to be amazing.” He sounded so sure, so utterly confident that this was going to be the highlight of their year. “And,” he added, “I’m pretty sure even you can’t resist a Christmas soiree or a New Year’s Eve under the stars.” A part of her wanted to laugh it off, to make some joke about floating around with strangers dressed in sequins and tacky tuxedos. But another part of her, one she kept buried deep under layers of realism and cynicism, felt a thrill at the idea. Seven days of escape, of endless ocean and open sky… There was something tempting about the thought of just leaving everything behind. “Wow,” she managed, her voice quieter than she intended. “You… really went all out.” “For you? Of course,” he said, his voice filled with that familiar warmth. “So, what do you say, Lila? You in?” She looked out at the snow falling softly in the street, imagining the horizon, empty and blu, her heart pounding a little faster, she couldn’t help but feel that maybe—just maybe—this holiday might surprise her.