How to Fake a Love Story

10: Of Shopping Malls and Publicity

High noon on a Saturday was his least favourite of times.

They were hot.

They were boring.

And they cut into his sleeping pattern.

In fact, Ryan liked it a lot less knowing he was coming out to meet his gay s*x-offender boyfriend-who really ought to be locked up in jail after giving all his bank account information to him.

Ryan let Cierra pick out today's outfit for him since she had been so uncharacteristically helpful in the last couple days.

That is to say, she didn't harass him much when he complained to her about the movie date night and the consequent dates after that.

He frowned when he remembered the last time they had gone to get a coffee. That bastard had groped his ass.

He shuddered in revulsion.

But now, a part of him wished he hadn't made such a big point of complaining about the s****l harassment to her.

Glancing at his watery reflection in the fountain he was waiting by, Ryan grimaced. Clearly he underestimated Cierra's own selfish desires that were the base foundation for her altruistic ones; she had returned home not only with his new set of clothing but huge tubs of ice-cream and packets of chips.

Ryan later made a mental note to never, ever, ever, give Cierra full custody of his credit card for the entirety of a day never, ever, ever again.

Despite that, here he was: Dressed in new clothing that was a size too small for him. It also, as he found out by ogling himself in the reflection of the nearby fountain like some narcissist, outlined his butt a little more than he would have liked.

'Please sexually assault me,' was written all over.

Ryan was just hoping Jared didn't actually get any ideas.

He was tired of standing in the mall, waiting for the pseudo love of his life to show up. He wasn't sure why they had chosen the mall out of all places to hang out in but it seemed to be a logical decision at that time.

Logical in the sense that he hoped Jared would have enough decency not to try anything in public.

"Ryan!"

He turned at the call of his name.

Well look who it is.

Lucifer himself; smiling and waving at him.

Jared was running-late and winded from exertion of running here to try and not be as late.

"You're late," Ryan stated irritably. An arch frown formed on his face as he tried to remember everything Cierra told him about acting like a perfect boyfriend for a boy.

Why he was still heeding the Witch's advice was beyond him.

Jared came to a stop in front of him and smiled helplessly. "Sorry, there were a few too many things at the office that needed doing. I'll make it up to you. Did you wait long?"

Ryan glanced at the huge clock that was hanging above the entrance to the mall. They were supposed to meet roughly an hour ago; Ryan would've been comfortably back home and passed out in bed if Jared had not called him every ten minutes saying he was late and on his way.

Cierra's Lesson One: Be understanding.

"It's fine. You're busy, I understand."

No matter how much he wished he didn't have to.

Jared placed both hands firmly on Ryan's shoulders forcing Ryan to look at him. Ryan blinked when he caught the look that was familiar to him in more than one way. Ryan had used that look himself on more than one account.

I've-been-a-jerk-to-you-and-I'm-really-really-sorry.

"No, it's not. It's not good to neglect you like this."

Jared's face was a bit too close for comfort but the hands on his shoulders prevented him from moving away.

Ryan looked from one side to the other, hoping his senses were pulling tricks on him and that Jared was not sliding one hand slowly towards his neck while the other was making its way steadily south from behind.

He fidgeted slightly.

"No, really, I understand. Completely. More than you think."

Jared smiled and had adopted that look in his eyes again. "You're so understanding, Ryan, I really—"

Hand on his neck.

"—couldn't ask for a better boyfr—"

Hand on his back.

"—than you. I'm such a—"

Hand on his face.

"—lucky—"

Their foreheads touched.

Ryan squeaked and jerked back as far as—

"Ryan!"

—and then remembered that a fountain was directly behind him.

The splash of water accompanied by the consequent laughing— with a severe lack of restraint— caused nearby heads to swivel in their direction. A few passing girls giggled at him. One even winked.

Ryan seethed.

These were new clothes too.

When the fits of giggles assaulting Jared died down, he held his hand out, offering his most apologetic smile. Ryan had gotten used to this smile. Jared used it often because humiliation had made good on a very one-sided relationship with Ryan whenever Jared was around.

Sitting up in the fountain, Ryan groaned. He looked away from Jared darkly, still far too tempted to murder him. When he calmed down enough, he took the silent hand and felt himself slowly pulled to his feet.

And then he saw her.

Walking with her stiletto boots that could kill someone, talking sharply on her phone and looking as pissed as he remembered her.

Myra.

Ryan could've sworn he suffered a mild heart attack just now.

She was some distance away but he had no doubt that it wouldn't help him if she spotted him.

"I'm sorry for laughing so much. You're just... so precious. Come on, we need to get you dried up with a new change of clothes." His attention was diverted by Jared and he kept a wary eye on his Ex-Wife as she stood and talked on the mobile.

Taking his hand without complaint or hesitation, Ryan felt himself pulled to his feet. The water dripped down him in small rivers running from his soaked clothing, dripping soundlessly to dry on the floor.

He had to get away before she spotted him.

Luckily Jared had the same thoughts— for obviously different reasons— as he took Ryan's hand and led him away from her. Ryan heaved a sigh of relief as they put more distance between him and his up-and-coming criminal ex-wife just itching to make her debut with a homicide headline.

"Why don't we hang out somewhere else?" He suggested lightly, focusing his attention on Jared. He hated the curious looks that others were shooting him but he decided that it would be best to ignore them.

"Why?" Jared questioned. He was looking around at the various shops and Ryan realized that he was searching for a shop to get a change of clothes.

"It's so.... boring here."

"I don't mind but if we go outside we will assaulted by reporters." Jared sounded unconcerned.

Ryan staggered in surprise. "Reporters?"

"They wanted an interview with me but some imbecile from my office told them that I had a date." Jared frowned. "They followed me but I managed to lose them when I entered the mall."

"Won't they leave?"

"They will but not until a few hours. Until then they will stand by the doors waiting for me to come out." He sounded resigned.

"You sound like this isn't the first time this has happened to you." Ryan noted.

"I went out with my cousin once to a restaurant. They stood by the entrance waiting for me to emerge for three hours. Luckily, we managed to leave through the back door without alerting them." Jared grinned at the memory and Ryan found himself shaking his head.

He never thought how hard the life of a public personality would be. While Jared wasn't a politician, he was the youngest successful business man in the world and that by itself was enough to make him a celebrity and hence making him eligible for stalking.

Ryan grimaced as he realized that he was trapped. There was no way he could leave the mall without getting photographed and if he stayed here he was in danger of getting killed by his murderous Ex-Wife.

Taking a deep breath, he made his decision.

He needed a disguise.

oOoOo

She was so sure he was here.

She could feel it.

There wasn't anywhere in the world Ryan Grayson could escape to. Call it the sixth-sense that all angry, stiffed, jilted, and generally unhappy ex-wives acquired upon appending that prefix to their marital status, but she knew he was here.

She could feel it.

Not only that, but she was fairly confident of her twenty-twenty vision and saw him with someone roughly thirty minutes ago. She couldn't get a good look at the person he was with since their back was towards her but she recognised Ryan. If it weren't for her overriding sense of decency in a public place, Myra would've torn off at the slightest trace like the bloodhound she was.

She wasn't deterred.

She would find him sooner nor later.

But it wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair how she had to keep hunting him down months after the marriage ended.

It wasn't fair how he had gotten away with emptying one of her Swiss bank accounts.

It wasn't fair how she wanted to pound his stupid, pretty face in so much and couldn't.

It wasn't fair how she still really, really liked him even though he was such a douche.

And, most of all, it was unfair how horribly good looking he was to make her forget about a lot of all of the above.

Sighing heavily, she ran a hand through her hair and continued to look around. The shopping mall was large; he could be anywhere.

But she had connections.

Whipping her phone out, Myra speed-dialled the only person in Georgetown who had enough connections, as well as the you-will-do-as-I-say-or-I-will-blackmail-you-to-do-it-anyway credence, to get just about anything.

The phone rang a few times and was picked up promptly.

"Hello, Cynthia Johnson speaking."

oOoOo

Ryan was sure that the Gods were laughing at him.

"Can I frame a picture of you on my wall?" Jared's voice was grating.

"No!" Ryan shot back, unable to stem the anger, colouring darker.

He was past his breaking point. Not once had he ever lost his temper on the job. But Jared was... Jared was... he was just made of piss-Ryan-off-in-a-can. Even Cierra had her limits-and that was saying something.

Jared leaned over on his knees, resting his chin in the palm of a hand.

Ryan tugged at the front of his skirt a bit, painfully aware how eye-level it was with his seated audience.

Everyone in the store had, by now, seen him in his current outfit-complete with heeled boots and yellow ribbons in his hair to match his sleeveless top. The girls giggled amusingly and he caught more than one of them snapping a picture with their camera phones. The boys wagged their eyebrows at him suggestively-half-mocking and probably half-serious.

The store boy was staring at him like he was a piece of meat.

"I have to say, buddy, a boyfriend like that could turn anybody gay," he remarked, drinking in the sight of Ryan dressed short skirt and a bit too tight fitting white shirt with frills.

He couldn't help but tug at the ruffled blue and white skirt hugging his waist a little lower self-consciously; he felt himself colour darker. The skirt was shorter than the long, black wig he was wearing and Ryan couldn't help but wonder how girls dealt with that horrible, revealing feeling of a draft fly up.

The store boy winked when Jared wasn't looking.

The I'm-going-to-quarter-you-and-feed-it-to-dogs vibes Ryan sent bounced off that store-boy like water on a duck.

Jared laughed, getting up and signing the credit card bill. "I know, right? You know what else? He's got the tightest—"

"Jared!" Ryan scolded, a scowl twisting his handsome features, cutting off any further unsanitary filth that might come out of that garbage disposal.

Winking at him, Jared pulled him close with a hand dangerously close to his bottom. Ryan tensed a bit-feeling even more insecure about violations to personal space with such a short skirt. The arm around him held him possessively and Ryan squirmed uncomfortably.

And then he noticed the killing aura radiating off Jared.

Ryan had extensive experience with these kinds of auras.

Though it was often directed at him.

Suddenly the store boy was sweating more than just bullets. He swallowed and gave a stiff-lipped smile. "H-Have a nice day."

Ryan had the feeling that he had missed something important.

Without giving Ryan further time to contemplate the silent exchange that had just transpired, Jared took him by the hand and they left the store, leaving the wet clothes with cleaners.

To say the least, Ryan was confused.

The more they wandered around the mall, the less Ryan felt conscious of his appearance and more aware that there was a terrible amount of pink in the mall today. The fact that he was in a skirt paled in comparison to the terrifying thought that-

It could be her.

She could be anywhere.

He looked to the left. Traces of pink skirts were everywhere and he couldn't keep track of them all. Any of them could be Myra. It was her favourite colour-but apparently it was the favourite colour of many other girls today.

Ryan had once pointed out the irony of how her favourite colour was pleasant and feminine and nothing at all like her.

It earned him a slap in the face that was borderline hospital-worthy.

"Ryan?"

"What? No," he responded immediately— a trained reaction growing up. "I mean, what is it?"

"Want to catch a movie?" Jared asked, nodding over towards the movie theatre they had stopped in front of.

Ryan blinked, staring at the titles. Then he turned back to Jared and paled when he saw him wag his eyebrows suggestively.

It was that look again.

He fought back a shiver.

Sighing, Ryan shrugged his shoulders. There wasn't much else to do— he wasn't one for shopping since all the girls he ever went with would abuse his wallet more than just thoroughly every time. Shopping was always a disheartening potential date for him.

A movie, however, was a good way to waste time and had the double benefit of hiding from Myra.

"Sure why not," Ryan agreed, starting to walk into the cinema. "It's not like—"

"Hey, wat—" Blue eyes fluttered and widened just a fraction. "You..."

Myra.

Time to go.

Grabbing Jared's hand he spun around, whirling the long fake locks around in a circle, making fast tracks for anywhere but here. Fear fuelled his desire for survival and turned on the instincts every human being is designed with in the face of threat.

Choosing to glance over his shoulder, he could see traces of the blue-eyed devil getting swallowed up in the crowd he had managed to find, squirm through, and lose her in. Sure enough, he had lost sight of her.

He was safe for the moment.

Ryan breathed a sigh of relief only to find-

Somewhere the light of a camera flashed.

It seemed like the Gods hadn't finished playing with him yet.