Faking it (mikhaiah)

Chapter 1: The Contract

Aiah's POV

The room was filled with an eerie silence, but not the tense kind. It was the kind of silence that carried unspoken words, taunting you to break it. I found myself staring at the contract in front of me, still trying to convince myself that I wasn't in some twisted fever dream.

It was real, though. The paper in front of me, the inked words that spelled out my so-called "fate," and the names at the bottom waiting for signatures. What kind of mess had I gotten myself into?

I shifted in my seat, feeling the cool surface of the table beneath my palms. My heart raced as I recalled how this ridiculous situation had come to be. Just days ago, I had been caught up in the chaos of our usual friend group antics, laughing and joking as if we were invincible. Now, I was trapped in this bizarre game that seemed to have spiraled out of control.

"Aiah," Colet's voice snapped me out of my daze, sharp and demanding. "You're not bailing, right?"

I glared at her, narrowing my eyes. "Why would I bail? It's not like you're giving me a choice." My tone came out sharper than I intended, but the whole situation was ridiculous. The contract felt like a noose tightening around my neck, and I couldn't understand why I was the one in this position.

Colet's grin widened, her dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "Good. You lost the game fair and square. Now, play your part."

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms defensively as my gaze drifted to Mikha, who was sitting across from me, casually twirling a pen between her fingers. She didn't seem remotely phased by what was happening. In fact, she looked... amused.

"Is something funny?" I couldn't help but ask, my irritation bubbling to the surface.

Mikha raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into that infuriating smirk I'd come to know all too well. "I don't know, Aiah," she drawled lazily, leaning back in her chair like she had all the time in the world. "I'm just surprised you're taking so long to sign. You're usually more decisive."

Her words were like a match to a flame, igniting the competitive edge in me. I hated how smug she looked, like she already knew how this would go. Like she was certain I'd fold and play right into her hands.

I glanced down at the contract again, my eyes scanning the list of rules that Colet had written in her annoyingly neat handwriting.

Rule #1: Daily compliments.

Rule #2: Must go on at least two "dates" per week.

Rule #3: Hand-holding in public is mandatory.

Rule #4: No PDA before 10 AM.

Rule #5: Homemade snacks for movie nights.

A laugh bubbled up in my chest, though it was more of a scoff. "Compliments? Hand-holding?" I shot a look at Colet, incredulous. "You seriously wrote this like it's some kind of rom-com?"

Colet shrugged nonchalantly, her grin never fading. "If you're going to fake date, you may as well make it convincing, right?"

I shook my head, but before I could say anything else, Mikha chimed in again. "You're overthinking it, Aiah. It's not that deep."

Not that deep? Easy for her to say. She wasn't the one who had to pretend to be in a fake relationship for the next month. The thought of it sent a shiver down my spine, mixed with a thrill I didn't want to acknowledge.

I glared at her, but Mikha didn't flinch. She just leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she gave me that look, the one that said she knew exactly how to get under my skin.

"You're stalling," she said, her tone a little too casual for my liking. "Just sign the damn thing."

I hated how easy it was for her to push my buttons. But I wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of seeing me back down.

Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the pen that Colet had oh-so-conveniently placed in front of me. My hand hovered over the paper for a moment as I glanced around the room at our friends, all of whom seemed to be watching this little exchange like it was some kind of entertainment.

Gwen, ever the silent observer, was sitting back with her iced coffee, her eyes flicking between Mikha and me with mild interest. She wasn't smiling, but I could see the amusement in her eyes, as if she were watching a reality show unfold before her. Colet, on the other hand, was practically bouncing in her seat, her excitement barely contained.

I turned back to Mikha, locking eyes with her. "You're going to regret this."

Mikha's smirk deepened, her voice low and challenging. "Bring it on."

There was something in her tone, something that sent an odd shiver down my spine. A mix of excitement and dread coiled in my stomach, but I pushed the feeling aside, determined not to let her get to me. This was just a game. Just a silly bet.

With one final breath, I put the pen to paper and signed my name at the bottom of the contract.

"There," I said, tossing the pen down with more force than necessary. "Happy?"

Mikha didn't say anything at first, but the look in her eyes spoke volumes. She reached across the table and took the pen from my hand, her fingers brushing against mine for the briefest of moments. I hated how that small touch made my heart race, even if I'd never admit it out loud.

She signed her name with a flourish, her movements smooth and confident. "It's official," she said, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms. "I hope you know what you've gotten yourself into."

Mikha chuckled softly, her eyes never leaving mine. "Oh, I do."