Page 55 of The Fake Script

“Can you please choose something else? I still want to watch a movie with you.”

A smile breaks onto my face, because right now, he looks so much like Teenage Auston, begging me to help him with his homework.

“I can. Avert your eyes, though. You might appear on the screen when I turn the TV back on.”

“Haha.”

I press the remote, and sure enough, there he is, about to take his coat off. I press “back” on the remote and continue to browse the romance movies. He seems to be in every single one, and I’m beginning to think I might have to watch some of them. I can always skip the kissing scenes. “Are you in every romantic movie ever made or what?”

He winces. “I know. It’s a problem. I should show this catalog to my mom the next time she comes with yet another romcom.”

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” I say, tilting my head. “Obviously, it’s my favorite genre. I do own a romance bookstore, after all.”

“I know.” He sighs. “And I like doing them. I just don’t love it anymore. I’ve been trying to land some more serious roles lately, but somehow, I always end up back here.”

“Can’t your mom do anything about it?”

He scoffs. “You just put your finger on the core of the problem. She pushes me to do these commercial movies because they bring money and fame. But after ten years of doing this, I feel like it’s time to try something else, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that. Romance can get a little repetitive after a while.”

He rubs his chin. “Tell me about it. But my mom always manages to convince me to do just one more. Every time, it’s a bigger project, or with a better payout, and I end up accepting because it’s a good business decision.”

“Right. But just because it’s good for business doesn’t mean it’s good for you.”

“Exactly! That’s what I keep telling her, but my momisall business. That’s all she sees. And I can’t really blame her. She’s a rockstar at it. We went from lining up at the soup kitchen to living in million-dollar mansions within a few years, but I don’t know.”

My heart constricts. “Soup kitchen?”

“Oh,” he says, looking away. “I sometimes forget how good I already was at pretending from a young age.” He clears his throat. “We were poor, really poor. Why do you think we never studied at my place? My house was smaller than this hotel suite, and I was ashamed of it. No one from school knew where I lived or how I lived. If they had, they’d have demoted me to unpopular in no time.”

I shake my head. “I wouldn’t have. It doesn’t change anything.”

“But you know how it is in high school, especially when you’re popular. So I hid my family’s situation, and I was already loving the “pretend” part. My mom was great at thrifting nice clothes. It was like putting on a costume every morning.”

“So, you were pretending the entire time?” I ask, needles piercing my heart.

“What? No!” He takes my hand, and I draw a quick breath. My body is consumed by flames, and everything aches and stirs like never before and it’s starting to making me heady. “I never pretended with you, Emma. That’s why I loved spending time with you. I could be myself with you. I was actually going to tell you about my situation, but—”

“You left.”

He slips his hand away. “I left. I had to. It was our only shot at a normal life. That’s what my mom told me at the time.” His lips tilt into a weak smirk. “Well, look at my life now. I may not be poor anymore, but there’s nothing normal about it.”

“But you’re happy, right?” I ask, unable to help myself. I need to know.

“I am now,” he whispers, his gaze trapping me. He glances to my lips, then back to my eyes. And just like back at Michaela’s party, I feel it. This is the moment when he’s going to kiss me.

Clearing my throat, I focus on the screen again. I can’t let that happen. I’ve seen that movie before, and I don’t want to relive the ending. “Oh, how about this one?” I say.

After a moment, he sighs. “I’m in that one too.”

“Really?” I furrow my eyebrows. Usually, his face is plastered on the cover.

“Yup. I’m the ex. We don’t see me as much, though, so we could go for it if you really want to.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Let’s watch something you’re not in.”

I think it’s better for both of us. I need to keep my distance from Auston, and while I can’t scoot any further without falling on my butt, I can choose a different movie. Because having him both on the screen and breathing next to me would not help my cause.

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