The Fine Print of Falling

Chapter 1

SASKIA

Halcyon Bay was quiet and I lay in the dark with the gala still clinging to me: hairspray stiff in my hair and glitter dusting my collarbone, my cheeks sore from smiling at too many cameras. "Get some sleep," Anouk had said outside the ballroom, air-kissing the space beside my face. "Nothing ever happens after midnight." I had believed her. God, I f*****g wanted to.

Outside, Windward Lane slept on. The curtains didn't move. My heart beat slow and even for the first time in weeks. Peace like that never lasts. It just waits for a sound to end it. My phone wouldn't stop buzzing.

Each vibration felt like a slap. It was past one in the morning, and I had only just fallen asleep after the gala. I groaned, burying my face deeper into the pillow before reluctantly cracking one eye open.

My manager's words rang in my ear as I reached for the phone.

"Engage with your fans as soon as you can. They are the reason you are famous."

I sighed, feeling the air sucked out of my lungs as I sat in bed and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. A million comments under two hours?

This was everything I had dreamed of since freshman year-except in my dreams, they weren't calling me a whore

I swiped through them on Glimmr, each one worse than the last. Air escaped my lungs as my heart hammered against my ribs.

'I never knew her lifestyle content allowed her to be such a whore.'

'She is a slut.'

'I knew I was wrong to have liked her.'

'Such a homewrecker.'

I stopped reading them for a moment and looked up. I bit down on my tongue and pinched myself to wake up.

I was awake!

My fingers began working faster than my brain. My fingers trembled against the screen as I looked for the reason this was happening.

My finger stopped, hovering over the screen. My pulse was racing as I stared at it. A picture of Tavian Cross and me from the Ashgrove University charity gala last night had been leaked. His hand was on my waist, and the reporter had captioned it.

Tavian Cross's new girl?

"No, no, no." I threw the blanket off my body and stood up.

My stomach dropped. This wasn't real. We were strangers. Just two people stuck next to each other at a stupid gala.

I closed my eyes. The memory of the night before flashed in my mind once again.

"Can I get a picture? I am your biggest fan," Tavian said.

I looked up at him. It didn't seem likely that an athlete like him was my fan, but with my manager staring at me hard, there was no way I could say no.

"Sure." I got out of the chair.

My clumsy-ass self tripped over nothing on the way to the booth, and he caught me. His hands were on my waist to steady me, and somehow a reporter had snuck an image of us during this time.

I ran my fingers through my hair and shook my head. I scrolled again, and everyone was saying the same thing. I was a stupid-ass b***h who was trying to seduce Tavian Cross and become his new girl. My screen flashed brighter, and a call from Anouk, my manager, replaced the image of Tavian and me on the screen.

"Hello?"

"Saskia darling," Anouk said in that too-calm voice she used right before dropping a bomb.

"Nouk, did you see the ... I didn't do it ... I have no intention of even being with him," I stammered, a stray tear already skidding its way down my face.

"Are you crying?"

"Yes," I admitted with a sniff. "I don't know what to do." My chest tightened.

"Saskia, I need you to listen to me," she snapped. Her voice was smooth with displeasure. "Crying won't solve the problem. You need to prove to them that there is nothing between you and Tavian.

"How?" I was pacing my room now. "Can we ... can we reach Tavian and maybe ask him to explain the situation?" I asked.

"I am still trying to get to Tavian's coach."

"I am sure if we ask him, he would explain to people what happened," I said again.

She drew a long breath as I stood in the middle of my room, the air conditioner blasting on full and the stillness of the night creeping into my room.

"I have tried, Saskia. His agency, his coach, and even he seem to be unreachable."

"We can try again," I offered, pressing down my lips to stop myself from crying more.

"The story is spreading too fast; I don't think I can reach him in time to save you, Saskia." Her voice was flat.

I had never seen her give up so easily.

"Or maybe we can post a statement. Explain what happened, say it was a mistake and ... "

"Saskia," her voice cut through my ramble.

My jaw was trembling. I could tell from her voice why that was a wrong idea.

"A statement at this time would just make it worse," she explained. "We need something else to cover this up."

A pause.

The silence lasted too long. My stomach dropped.

"I know you said no boys for now ... because you want to focus on your career, but what if you got a boyfriend?" she stuttered.

"Of course not!" I shrieked. My hands were shaky as I held the phone to my ear.

"Not a real one. Just a fake one for the cameras. If you can show the world you are in love with someone else, they won't think you were trying to seduce Tavian," she explained.

I stared at the wall.

What kind of solution is that?

"I need you right now to think about yourself and your future. You didn't spend years building your name just to lose it over one photograph," she added silently.

I planned to be an actress. I had tried minor roles in the past, but nothing really stuck. After I met Anouk, she said getting popular online might help a few roles. I genuinely enjoyed being an influencer, but I still wanted Hollywood by all means. Halcyon Bay was only an hour from Los Angeles, close enough to chase auditions and small enough for everyone to know my business.

"Right now your followers are down about a hundred thousand. If you lose any more ... "

"So am I supposed to find a boyfriend? All by myself?" I whimpered, cutting her off.

"Any close friends. Anyone you could talk to that could help. Just a few days ... no ... a month."

"A fake boyfriend for a month," I repeated like I needed to hear it to be sure. She grunted in response.

"Preferably someone who is not as popular as you are," she continued. "You don't want another scandal."

I stayed silent.

Through the panic, one name kept resurfacing.

Idris Calloway.

It felt like he was the only person I could reach out to for help right now. The only problem was that I hadn't spoken to him in years.

"Do you need me to find someone for you? I would be there first thing in the morning so we can get our stories straight."

I cleared my throat and shook my head. "No. I will choose someone."

"Remember, someone good with a perfect reputation. Right now that is the only way to save you," she warned, and the line beeped dead.

I was in the middle of my internet-perfect aesthetic room, my throat dry, my eyes stinging from lack of sleep, and my heart beating faster than it should. I scrolled through my phone, my finger hovering over Idris's contact. I tapped on it and sent a message.

'Are you awake?'

He responded in seconds, as if he had been waiting for it.

'Yeah, what's up?'

Before I could stop myself, my eyes drifted to the window across from mine, just a few feet away on the other side of the gap between our houses on Windward Lane.

I moved closer to the window and stared at his. The light flickered, and I watched his silhouette move around until he opened his window.

I reached for the latch. My fingers paused on it. The last time I had opened this window for Idris, we had still been fifteen. Back when there had never been a Dris without Sas.

Or a Sas without Dris.

The thought twisted something in my chest. I opened the window and stood still, the night breeze brushing against my cheeks and making me colder. Idris's forehead crinkled, and his lips dropped into a frown.

"Are you crying?" he asked.

How had he seen so quickly? Even in the darkness of the night. Then again, Idris had always been annoyingly good at reading me.

My lips parted, ready to respond, but he was already moving. I heard his door close.

Of course.

A minute later, a text followed.

'I am at your front door.'

I didn't bother to wear anything appropriate. I raced down the stairs and pulled the door open. Idris was standing there, hoodie pulled over his head, half-zipped like he had thrown it on in a hurry, hands in pockets. His brows were furrowed as he stood still at my front door.

"Sas?"

"Idris," I sniffed, shuffling on my feet. The words felt heavy.

"I need your help!"

Idris's expression darkened. I looked at my feet as I whispered.

"I need you to be my boyfriend."