A Murderer's Guide to Fake Dating

02. i said, we're roleplaying

There is a bloody mess on the ground. "Bloody mess" as in dead body. Blood seeping into the tiled floor. Aiden White. I cannot breathe, terror wrapping its claws around my throat, squeezing. 

I am going to be sick. I don't even realize I've crumbled onto the floor until I'm inches away from the dead body. Nausea coats my throat and I scooch away, breathing heavily. 

I'm going to vomit cheesecake all over the floor and the staff will have to deal with two messes: cheesecake mixed with alcohol, and the rotting body. 

Okay. I need to think. No, I need to call the police first. I rummage through my pocket but then a terrifying thought punches me in the gut. Will they think I murdered him? 

Even I don't know the answer. I don't know if my cursing him was a coincidence or if I indirectly plunged a knife into his body and twisted. My hands tremble, but I dial the police anyway. The phone rings and rings and rings and it feels like an eternity when they finally pick up. 

"Hello?" a warm voice answers. 

I'm encased in ice. I'm frozen, unable to speak because my vocal cords are frozen as well. "Do you need any help?" the person continues. 

My voice comes out all grating, when I say, "Um." I smell metallic blood filling the room and feel dizzy. "There's a... there's a dead bo—" 

Before the sins can be confessed, the door swings open and I scream. My phone clatters on the floor and I can hear a minuscule voice going, "Ma'am, are you okay? Ma'am, please answer me." 

Towering above me like a sinister monster come to life is Jack Lim. If this were a terrible horror movie on a tight budget, there would be overdramatic lightning in the background. "What the hell?" says Jack, staring at the body. 

He's trying to figure out what's happening. I recognize the look on his face, eyebrows scrunched, all frowns, mouth turned down, like when someone's made a mistake in the report and he's figuring out the problem. 

When Jack finishes his analysis and looks at me, he looks pissed off. "Isla, why is there a dead body in the bathroom?" 

Present time: 

"What?" the tiny voice from my phone says, alarmed. I almost forget she's there. "A dead body in the bathroom?" 

Jack enters the bathroom in three long strides, ending the call with a stab of his finger. He locks the bathroom door and fear melts into my blood. He bestows upon me the Coldest Stare he's ever given and I tremble. 

"Well?" he says. "Aren't you going to explain that?" 

"Oh, yes," I say calmly, though my mind is panicking. "The thing is—"

"And don't bother lying," Jack interrupts. 

He always knows. I bite my lip. "When I opened the door, I saw a dead body." Truth. "So I called the police." Another truth. 

Jack's eyes narrow. "Tell me what happened before you came to this bathroom." 

Damnit. "Why?" I challenge. I am scared little Red Riding in the face of the Big Bad Wolf. 

"Because you have something to do with Aiden's death," Jack declares and I go into a mini breakdown. 

How does he know? Was he watching me curse Aiden? No, that's not possible—unless he was watching from the bathroom windows. Jack wouldn't stoop that low. I think. 

"What makes you think that?" I ask, a tremble in my voice. "It could've been an accident. He slipped on soap and smack! His head hit the toilet and now he's dead."