fake it til you make it | greta van fleet

a friendly favor | one

There are an infinite number of things people are willing to do for love. For some, anything was doable if it meant gaining the attention of the one they desire. For others, there are at least some things that seem morally wrong to do just for a little bit of attention.

For you? Well, there probably wasn't much that you wouldn't do for Daniel Wagner.

You hadn't known him for long, really. You'd only met him about six months prior when you'd first moved into your new apartment and the tall man had bumped into you in the hallway whilst you were rifling through your mail. Immediately, you had been smitten.

What wasn't to be smitten with? He was ridiculously attractive, charmingly sweet, and above all else: he was completely and utterly unattainable. That same night after you had bumped into him, you'd laid awake listening to the faint creaking of bedsprings and the dull thud of a headboard against the wall directly beside your bed.

Of course, you had been hoping that maybe he had a roommate you just weren't aware of. But, you were out of luck. A very, very lucky lady's voice had begun crying his name shortly thereafter and you'd slapped your pillow over your head with a groan.

It really was just your luck to meet such a dreamy guy, only for him to be unavailable.

Ever since that first encounter, you'd been stuck in a weird sort of tug-of-war with yourself. Often you found yourself gravitating toward the man whenever you saw him, speaking with him in the hallway, the laundry room, the mailroom–anywhere, really. He always greeted you with a cheerful smile and a chipper hello, sometimes hugging you, and others merely regarding you warmly should either of your hands be full.

Sometimes he'd invite you over for a movie, or end up at your dining table for dinner. The two of you spoke like old friends, like you'd known each other your entire lives, and it was sweet. He was good company, and you considered him a good friend.

On the other hand, you also often found yourself burying your head under your pillows or attempting to sleep in headphones to drown out the sounds of lovemaking in the next room over. It was always the same voice, calling out his name, and it made you a little more bitter every time that you heard it. Or, maybe jealous was a better word for it.

You had met her eventually. One morning, as you'd been heading out the door for an early shift at work, you'd turned and nearly crashed directly into her. It was obvious she'd barely cleaned herself up after a rather wild night (one that you'd been forced to listen to), and she'd seemed to light up at the sight of you.

"Oh!" she gasped, "You're... (Y/N), right? Danny's told me all about you!"

For a moment, the little green monster within you dared you to be nasty, but you caught yourself and offered a polite smile. Danny had told her about you? The thought struck you as odd considering he'd never even mentioned her to you. "That's me!" you'd replied, "Are you his girlfriend?"

She smiled dreamily, eyes fluttering back to his apartment door momentarily before she nodded, "Yeah, we've been together for three years now. He's the best, isn't he?"

"Absolutely," you'd agreed, hoping she couldn't tell just how truly you meant it, "I'm happy for you guys. Three years is a long time."

About two months had passed since that awkward encounter in the hallway, and for the past month, you hadn't heard a single bump in the night. You hadn't seen her since, either, and you weren't entirely sure what that meant. Had they broken up? Were they fighting?

There was a weird sort of guilt that came with the curiosity. You felt like a horrible friend for wondering about it, and even worse for somewhat hoping for it. Of course, you didn't really hope for it. At the end of the day, Danny was your friend, and you genuinely wanted him to be happy.