How to Fake a Love Story

12:Of Omnious Letters

Myra sighed.

She had been so sure he was there. The worst part about it was that she had seen him more than once today-and for longer than just a little bit.

Ryan was like water-you could only hold it for so long and was damn hard to hit when you really wanted to.

The soft bed she was laying on calmed her down a bit but she still felt the sharp sting of disappointment. She had been sure that she would be able to find him in the mall but instead she was back in her hotel room, reminiscing about what had taken place.

Rolling over onto her stomach, she speed-dialled Cynthia Johnson again. The chipper girl had promised her a catch soon after a few physical threats by Myra were in place.

Cynthia had tendencies to go overboard with things from time to time. It was a fact Myra was very well aware of; afterall, Cynthia had been the Student Council President when they were in high school together.

She picked up on the second ring. "Hello, Cynthia Johnson speaking."

Myra smiled; Cynthia hadn't answered her phone any other way in nearly seven years. "Cynthia, it's Myra. I called you earlier."

"Myra! Right. You were asking me about finding someone for you."

She nodded though Cynthia couldn't see her. "Yeah. Anything?"

"Not really. I've been busy. Oh, you'll be surprised to know that Mr Winston bats for the other team now."

Myra deadpanned. "What?"

Cynthia giggled from the other end. "Uh-huh. Even has a cute new sweetie-pie. I got to see the preview of that little piece at the station earlier. I thought 'he' was a 'she' because of the skirt. But then I looked a little closer at the bust-or lack thereof. And then another look at the face cleared that up. Too bad he's taken. I would swoop in on THAT right away."

Myra stopped to think about this for a second-and then thought about her experience in the mall.

'Gone to Rosewood, America for something stupid. Be back soon (depending upon how long the stubbornness will last)

Cierra and Ryan'

No...

It couldn't be...

He wouldn't...

Wait.

Would he?

Myra bit her lip. "Really? Jared never really struck me as... well... that type. He was always trying to stare down my shirt and lift my skirt as kids before I moved. Hell, I was his first kiss."

Myra, Cynthia and Jared had all studied in the same high school and she still had memories of how immature Jared had been when they were still freshmen. That didn't stop them from becoming friends though and Myra couldn't be more surprised at the news that the boy who flirted with her was actually gay.

Cynthia laughed over the phone. "Yup! I remember that kiss too! I remember the black eye you gave him! He jumped right out of the closet on this one. Announced it on TV a while ago."

Myra raised her eyebrows momentarily, in disbelief at the news. "Wow. Shocking. Wait... you said he has a, er, boy already? Any idea what he looks like?"

Ryan wouldn't but there was no harm in making sure.

"Right. Actually, you can catch a glimpse of him right now on TV. The news network."

Myra turned on the TV.

Blue eyes widened like saucers.

She had turned it on just in time to see a very girly-looking Ryan-skirt, wig, ribbons, and all-throw his arms around Jared's neck that was suggestive of only one thing.

Cynthia giggled. "Cute, isn't he? Jared's such a lucky dog! Don't you think, Myra? Myra? Myra~?"

"Sorry, Cynthia, I have to let you go."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I'll call you back later."

"Hey, Myra, don't you-"

Click.

He would.

She speed-dialled her assistant. "Thompson, when is the next big event for the Pioneer Group?"

There was a pause of silence. "In a week, Miss Myra. A birthday."

"Put me on the guest list."

The answer was a prompt: "Yes, Miss Myra."



"SHUT UP!" He screamed.

Wild, hysterical laughter continued to fill the room.

Cierra rolled over onto her stomach and clutched it, pounding the ground, gasping for breath. Her vision started blurring and it was about here she realized she had started tearing up again. Never in her life had she seen something as ridiculous as that.

While it was a universally known truth that news travels quickly, this was a new height. A reason may be due to the affluence of the Pioneer Group and any news surrounding it was important to the town.

The main reason which, in all honesty, was much closer to the truth than the former was that people really just loved gossip.

An unspoken and promptly denied truth.

She laughed even more. "The f-f-AHAHAHA! F-Front page! FRONT PAGE!"

Ryan threw another pillow at her, red-faced and displaying more anger than sanity. He was huddled at the end of the couch, shreds of newspaper littering the space around him.

Cierra scrambled away quickly, leaning back against the other end of the couch. She clasped a hand over her mouth, stifling-but in all honesty, not really trying to stop-her laughter.

Normally, Ryan wasn't prone to violence of any sort. His physical prowess rivalled that of a five year old child; thus he wasn't likely to be able to fight off brigands of any sort any time soon. It was this primary reason that his temper was much more questionably moderate than the average person. Like anyone else, however, Ryan drew lines. Some actions crossed lines and some didn't.

Buying hundreds of copies of newspapers that showcased the event and filling it up in his room while he was sleeping was one such line-crossing activity for him.

It wasn't such a surprise Ryan had gone from zero to ninety on the anger scale in less than three seconds when you considered the first thing to greet him that morning.

'Pioneer Group Leader Winston's New Boy-Toy!'

Humiliation never had a better definition.

While he was optimistic there had just been a silly typo on the last word, something told him it wasn't and hadn't been fixed on purpose even if it was.

He couldn't even think who thought of such a ridiculous title in the first place.

"Don't you lie to me, Ryan Grayson, you loved it~!" Cierra sang.

"I did not!" he snapped, glaring at the annoying blonde woman who looked like she was having the time of her life.

While it felt like a lifetime ago, it was only yesterday that he kissed his boyfriend in front of the cameras and then promptly passed out. He guessed that he would be thankful that his pseudo-boyfriend actually brought him back home instead of his place.

Ryan shuddered.

"I know you did. Never thought you were the one for PDA though. Guess I don't know you as well as I think. Afterall, despite all your claims of not being gay, you did end up kissing-" Before Cierra could complete the sentence, Ryan lunged at her.

She twisted out of the way and fell on the carpet before scrambling to her feet, running over to the stair railing and high-tailing it upstairs.

Running after her with the intent of bodily harm, Ryan yelled various obscenities at her.

Just as he reached the top, he tore down the hall towards her bedroom door and-

WHAM.

-got a face full of door.

Banging on the door once with his fist, Ryan yelled, "Cierra, if you don't open this door, I'll-"

"You'll what, Princess Nancy?" she challenged. "Sic your boyfriend on me?"

That left Ryan sputtering, clearly at a loss for the means to back up the million and one empty threats in his head. Cierra was unbearable. She was a bratty, full of herself, junk food addict who only made his life more miserable.

Yet he still stuck with her.

He heard her inhale.

"Liar, liar, pants on fire, hanging from a telephone wire! Kissing fags, dressed in drag!"

With a growl of frustrated rage, Ryan kicked the door to Cierra's room as she continued to sing in between laughs before he headed back downstairs.

Maybe he should reconsider living with her. Despite the fact that she was useful in gathering information and normally not half as frustrating as she was currently being, he guessed that it was time to slowly start drawing the line as to what was alright and what wasn't.

To take his mind off certain events he decided to invest his time into doing something productive-like reading the letter so kindly addressed to him in semi-familiar handwriting.

The letter was lying on the table and Ryan blinked as a strong scent of lavender hit him when he picked it up. He didn't know who would write letters in this digital age but that only made him more curious.

His address was written on the cover and Ryan took a moment to read it. The handwriting was black, cursive, and familiar.

It was ominous.

Sliding the letter opener along the envelope, Ryan pulled out the lilac-tinted piece of paper and slowly read it over.

His face lost its colour shortly after reading the contents.

The amount of time he stood there, stiff as a board, was unknown, but he did register Cierra's arms snaking around his shoulders, tip-toeing to peer at the letter over his shoulder.

It seemed like she had decided that it was safe enough to come down.

Ryan still wasn't over his anger but his rage was greatly overshadowed by the fear in his chest.

Snapping the letter closed, and away from her prying eyes, Ryan headed for the door, leaving Cierra to stumble a bit from the sudden loss of contact. "Hey, what's the matter? Where are you going?"

Ryan paused for a moment in putting his jacket on to regard her. "My-" A hand clasped over his mouth as if his gag reflex suddenly went off. "None of your business. I'm going to see Jared, I have to break up with him. Book a flight back to England," he added, pulling his wallet out and tossing her his credit card. "We're going home."

Cierra's eyes widened. "We're what? You're going to what with Jared?"

"Breaking it off, I'll be back soon." He repeated.

"Hey, wait, don't you dare break it off with our golden duc-"

The door slammed shut.

Growling in frustration for a moment, Cierra huffed until her eyes fell upon the lilac-tinted letter. He had forgotten it in his hurry to leave. Picking it up off the ground, she read it.

Her eyes slowly widened and a grin spread across her lips.

"Oh."

Suddenly, Cierra found she didn't care so much about Ryan dumping Jared.