How to Fake a Love Story

8:Of Disastrous Dates

He wasn't ready for this.

Not at all.

But there was no way he would admit it to Cierra.

The two hours after leaving that horrifying place had flashed by into nothing. Cierra had talked non-stop about what to do and, consequently, what not to do during the date. Ryan could only really attribute this to her actually knowing a gay man-Scott-and so he heeded her words wisely by not really listening.

"Are you even listening to me?"

He refocused his attention back to her. She stood in front of him with a frown on her face and hands on her hips. "No."

Her frown deepened and he rolled his eyes. He might be inexperienced in the area of dating males but she seemed to forget that he himself was a male. "Cierra, I can handle this."

She raised an eyebrow. "I saw how well you handled it." He knew that she was referring to what had occurred just two hours prior and he scowled.

Ryan had already chosen to kick that memory to the curb; Cierra being trash collector wasn't appreciated. "That was a bar. That man was uncivilised and-"

She sighed. "That's exactly what I am trying to explain to you. You may be experienced in the ways of women but even then you only know how to handle the rich and sophisticated crowd who would never behave in any 'uncouth' way."

"Jared is rich. I doubt he will act anything like the man we met in the bar. Leave this to me." Ryan's snapped, booking no room for more argument and with one last glare, Cierra let it drop. She knew when not to push him.

Ryan smirked as she turned away from him. It was Cierra who often won most of the arguments but it was mostly because Ryan chose not to argue. But there were a few times where she did cross the line and it was his duty to remind her that.

He didn't appreciate her undermining his abilities.

What he was able to appreciate was the big black limo-limo!-that had been sent to pick him up. For a few moments he wondered if it had been wise to have given his house address to his tar-his potential boyfriend, but looking at the limo erased all his doubts.

He didn't think his potential boyfriend could do anything even if he knew Ryan's house address. After all, the moment he finished his job here, he and Cierra would be off to Brazil where Jared would never be able to track them.

The driver stepped out and opened the door for him. Ryan blinked in surprise before smiling kindly at the man and entering inside. He could get used to such treatment.

The inside of the limo was spacious with leather seats and a small fridge in one corner. Ryan smirked as he seated himself comfortably and the limo sped off towards the restaurant.

Cierra was worried over nothing. Jared had sent a limo to fetch him like any good-and rich-date would do. This was in the bag.

After nearly twenty minutes of journey, the limo stopped. The driver hurried out to open the door before Ryan could. The restaurant itself was high class and Ryan's smirk only widened. When he had been dating girls, he was the one to select the restaurant and pay for the dates. Just due to that fact, he never picked a very high class restaurant.

He didn't want to part with more money then required.

But this time, he could enjoy dinner without worrying about the bill.

Inside, he was led to the table Jared was sitting at. Inside a deserted private room save its-now two-occupants.

Bouquets of every kind of flower Rosewood's flower shops could possibly stock lined the walls and were piled in the corners. Candlelight illuminated the room, flickering flames sitting precariously on candelabras-one on each side of their table, shining in various mirrors in the room.

It was private.

It was cozy.

It was dangerous.

His something-ain't-right senses were tingling.

But Ryan chose to ignore all that-hoping it didn't mean anything important. After all, it wasn't covered in the crash course by Cierra.

Not that he had been listening to her properly.

"Ryan." The que-Jared, who was already seated, immediately stood up as he entered. The smile on his face didn't reassure Ryan much.

It was soft and Ryan didn't miss the way Jared tilted his head as he studied him.

It reminded Ryan of the way he used to look at the girls he was dating.

His something-ain't-right senses tingled again.

"You look amazing." The compliment sounded sincere and while he may have preened if it were a girl who complimented him, it was Jared. Who was unfortunately, most definitely, a boy.

Ryan reflected that this all would be a hundred times easier if only Jared were a girl.

"Thank you. You look good too." And Ryan had to admit that Jared did clean up nicely. While he was still no where near Ryan in the looks department, he wasn't so bad as Ryan had first labeled him.

Though that didn't make it any easier to approach the table.

Jared's eyes had a gleam in them that put Ryan on his guard. He didn't know what Jared was thinking but his earlier experience taught him to be wary. One could never predict what the other was up to.

But there was no way he could remain standing-far, far away from the possible s****l predator-so he slowly made his way towards the table, keeping an eye on the other man.

Jared just smiled lightly, his eyes not leaving Ryan even once.

After sitting down and five minutes of simple conversation, Ryan had deemed that Jared was nice and normal enough.

After a few casual greetings and mandatory opening conversations-

(Hey, how are you?)

(Not too bad, yourself?)

(Pretty good. So what did you do all day?)

(Brushed up on gay etiquette, how 'bout you?)

-mandatory edited opening conversations, the meal came out, was finished in relative silence-

(How is it?)

(Very good.)

-and now they had come about the part of the meal Ryan had prepared all day for, thinking about every possible pattern of attack to bring this evening to a favourable end.

Wine and conversation.

From Cierra's explanation of gay men, it sounded like they were their own species straight down to the inflection of their voices accrued through influential habits. And then there were the gay men who looked and acted like normal people, but had crossed wires pertaining to s****l preferences.

Based on Ryan's recall of his brief previous encounter with Jared, Cierra classified him to be one of the latter-and these were the most difficult to deal with.

But Ryan was equipped.

Through his experiences with other ladies, he had accumulated a lot of pointers that would help him come out on the top.

Pointer Number One: Compliment his-

Jared spoke up. "You know, your eyes are really a very beautiful grey. Striking."

-eyes. Wait, what?

Ryan choked on his wine.

A shade of red stained his cheeks.

Because the wine had gone down his windpipe and was now depriving him of oxygen.

"Ryan!"

Ryan coughed a bit more and Jared rushed to his side. Pounding his chest, he coughed a bit more like a drowning man trying to spit up ocean water. He could feel the warm liquid burning something unpleasant in his chest.

A hard slap to his back cleared away the issue without further cause for concern.

Ryan felt like he had just been assaulted by a miniature truck somewhere between his shoulder blades. He was afraid he would be paralysed for life all the way down his spinal cord if he had been struck any harder.

It seemed like Jared was his complete opposite in the strength department. Which really didn't reassure him.

"Th-Thanks," he rasped. Jared nodded and returned to his seat.

Well, now what?

This queer was stealing all his opening lines on him.

So, not to be outdone-

Ryan smiled. "Well, I'm lost in the forests of my childhood in yours."

Jared, did not blush, did not fidget and did not cast his eyes away coyly. Instead, he smirked and Ryan felt a slight sinking feeling in his chest. "I'm very flattered by your poetically rendered description of my eyes. It was very cute."

He.

Did.

Not.

All of Cierra's education was thrown out the window momentarily as he leaned forward. "Did you just call me cute?"

Jared chuckled, gazing adoringly across the table at him. "You are cute. Adorable, in fact. I'm sorry I'm such a terrible partner for conversation. I was too busy admiring how beautiful you are, and thinking about how I could strike up conversation with this rare and lovely orchid sitting across the table from me."

He did not.

But he did.

Oh, he did.

He did.

He did.

Ryan suppressed the urge to go over there and strangle every ounce of life from his stupid, grinning face until his head popped before beating him black and blue.

He had been called cute before.

By family members.

Women.

And of course, Cierra.

But never a boy.

Repeat: Never a boy.

He was not cute. Or adorable. He let the various women he dated call him that since they often meant it as a compliment and it was often alternated with the word handsome so it didn't make him feel anything.

Women would find everything cute.

But to be called cute by a boy was one of the most humiliating experiences in his life.

Let it never be said that Ryan wasn't dramatic.

He can only be thankful that Cierra wasn't here to see this-he doubted she would ever stop teasing him about it.

Ryan took a sip of wine, buying him time to rack his mind for a proper response-and to relieve the murderous intent filling his head. Cierra hadn't covered this either-no, wait, she did: Deflect and redirect.

It was surprising how much he remembered with all the not listening he had been doing. It was like some part of his brain had known that he would require this information and had stored it for a time like this.

Clearing his throat, he spoke up. "I'm... very flattered by your compliment. So, tell me about your company. Samantha tells me that you recently donated towards keeping a children's hospital open. I'm impressed."

He made a mental note that he had introduced Samantha Rockford as his old friend. It wouldn't do to have his stories mixed up.

Jared shrugged. "It was nothing much really. I simply heard about their plight and decided to help out a little."

Ryan smiled. "You're too modest."

Pointer Number Two: Get him to talk about himself as much as possible.

"I've heard that your parents are deceased. Do you have any other family members that help you? Siblings?" Not the most appropriate conversation to be having but it filled the silence.

Jared shook his head. "No, I'm an only child. My father was a politician, and was shot by assassination-"

Actually true.

"-by a group of terrorists who didn't like the policies he was instigating; my mother died of a broken heart soon after-"

Also true.

Ryan had done his research after all.

"She was the founder of the Pioneer Group, and the late CEO. My uncle raised me. I have a cousin, three years younger than me, who's also an only child. I moved out and reinitialised the Pioneer Company immediately after graduation." Jared paused and smiled somewhat ruefully. "Even half the top floor of the company building was developed into an apartment for me because I was so busy and had nowhere else to go."

This wasn't information that could be found on any website.

Ryan felt a pang of what felt like sympathy. He nodded understandingly. "So you dove right in and buried yourself in your work. That's unhealthy," he added, taking a sip of wine. Ryan reached for the bottle and topped Jared off before moving onto his glass. "You should relax more."

"You're helping me relax right now." Jared winked.

All the sympathy that had bubbled in his chest evaporated.

Ryan was suddenly assaulted by the urge to run very far, very fast as Jared put on an I'm-going-to-molest-you-in-the-next-five-minutes look. Ryan made a mental note to be wary of Jared when his eyes started suggesting s****l abuse.

Jared glanced at the bottle. "Romane Conti. 1996. French red at its finest. I'm glad you enjoy it so much."

Ryan looked back to his glass that was getting dangerously close to overflowing. He swore, spinning the bottle expertly and righting it.

Ryan was forced to take a wine serving and etiquette class back in England. He often felt that his mother confused him as one of his sisters when she forced him to do things like that.

A single drop of red fell on the pristine white table cloth.

Ryan didn't know what to say; his knowledge on wines was impressive enough, but clearly lacking-certainly not enough to carry a conversation on the subject. And so, he rolled on to the next best logical choice.

Pointer Number Three: Keep the conversation flowing.

"It's very good," he commented, taking another drink.

He could already start to feel the heat of it flush his face.

Ryan wasn't much of a wine person-but he would drink it if it was there. It was usually bought by him and consumed by the ladies he was scamming-and only during dinner times.

Glancing at the bottle, he realized with abject horror that he was somehow the one to have drunk more than half the bottle. And-with another glance at his glass-had approximately another quarter to go.

It seemed like he wasn't as comfortable as he thought he was capable of being while on date with another man. While his attention was focused on keeping the conversation flowing, he had drank most of the wine without realising it.

Jared smiled at Ryan. "Isn't it? So, tell me about yourself. You just moved here. What brought you to America?"

He knew he should probably act like he was too tipsy to continue the conversation and suggest that they call it a night but the easily rehearsed story flitted through Ryan's slightly hazy mind and he recited it in his head.

It sounded right despite his intoxication and he decided that he could probably hold himself up for a few more minutes. "My apartment building caught on fire, and I needed to leave the country because someone left me a note saying they were coming to kill me."

It did sound good. For the description of a good thriller book he once read.

Ryan's head was starting to get hazier and he frowned at his glass of wine. Another drink.

Jared shook with silent laughter, containing it admirably. "I see. So-"

"What brought you to America?" He had to keep the conversation flowing and that meant getting all the obvious questions out of the way. Ryan was sure he knew the answer to this question already but it wouldn't do any harm to ask Jared about it. The more he talked about himself, the less he could question Ryan. It was a win-win situation.

Jared was all smiles now. "I was born here."

Ryan scoffed-with all the seriousness of someone thoroughly intoxicated; complete with rosy face, irritated eyes full of disbelief at perfectly good explanations, and reason sound enough that anyone completely wasted out of their minds would agree upon.

"That's no excuse." Ryan threw the rest of the wine back.

His glass was now empty.

He felt the dizziness intensify and a strange floating feeling overtake his body. He wondered if he sprouted wings or maybe suddenly gained the ability to fly. And maybe Jared had attained the power of cloning himself which would explain why he was currently seeing two Jared's.

Ah, the wonders a drunk mind can conjure up.

Jared could barely contain himself. "I'm sorry. I apologise for circumstances beyond my control."

Ryan rose from his seat in a rage. "Don't apologise to me! Apologise to America! Apologise for breaking the system! Apologise for shooting me in the arm with that damn pellet gun. That hurt you bastard!"

Jared was looked confused.

That didn't mean he wasn't enjoying himself though.

"Ryan-" He began, only to be cut off.

"Apologise for that pie incident!"

Nimbly, Jared ferreted the remaining bottle of wine away, under the stare of irritable grey eyes, hiding it behind a bouquet of flowers on the ground.

Good choice.

Ryan started to wobble on his feet as he turning his head away from Jared haughtily, folding his arms. He started to sway but seemed stable enough. For now.

Jared was biting his lip to keep the bubbling peals of laughter back. It was a good thing he was sitting otherwise he'd be on the ground shaking with hysterical laughter like someone in the throes of a seizure.

Ryan rounded on him, slamming both hands on the table, glaring furiously at Jared.

"Apologise for Monday! Apologise for her birthday!"

"Ryan, calm-"

"Apologise to Cierra!"

"Stop it. Just-"

"Apologise to Jenny!"

"Would you-"

"Apologise for plaid! Apologise to April! Apologise for-"

Jared couldn't keep it in anymore and was clutching his stomach, eyes tearing up.

"-socks with sandals! Apologise for chicken soup! Apologise to chocolate! Apolo-"

Line after line of nonsense continued to sputter out of Ryan's mouth and Jared was having a riot.

"-third grade! Ap-"

Suddenly the outflow of words ceased and Jared wiped his eyes to stare at the red faced Ryan who had started to sway even more.

"Ryan-"

THUD.

Jared sat frozen for a few minutes as his brain caught up to what had happened.

Ryan had disappeared.

More accurately, he was lying face down on the ground by the table.

Jared peeked to the side of the table and bit his lip as he stared at Ryan who had claimed the floor as his new bed. He wasn't snoring but his mouth was slightly open.

Unable to hold it back any longer, Jared burst out laughing.

He held the dubious honour of befriending five more minutes of unbridled laughter before finally moving to help his companion.

What a great boyfriend.

This was turning out to be a memorable night.