The Fake Girlfriend

Chapter 30 How I Used to be

Chapter 30

There were pictures of me everywhere now.

Flipping through Instagram, I saw the photos of Nick and I at the fashion show streaming about, popping up on every other fashion account.

And then I would think of Nick and my heart would ache again and I would have to put my phone down to clear my head, erase my thoughts, take a deep breath and move again.

It was agonizing. The way I walked out of his house, and down the hallway with this false hope that he would run out tongue tied- but at least he would try, try to stop me. And that was just a day dream, because since I haven't received one text or call.

I wondered if I had said the wrong thing about Anna, if I hadn't even brought it up if nothing would have happened and I would have fallen asleep in Nick's arms that night. But then his feelings would still be there and I would spend another day wondering if I should have said something.

Laying on my bed, my phone began ringing and I sat up so fast the room tilted.

"Hello?" I answered before checking the caller I.D.

"Rayne, darling. How are you?" Scarlett and her posh voice floated through the speaker and I almost hung up right then.

I groaned. "Just fine," I muttered.

"And I have a sixth sense telling me that you're lying. You want to know why I know that you are lying, Rayne?" I could almost hear her the clicking of her nails on the keyboard at this very moment.

When I didn't answer she continued, "Because I have excessively called him and have only received one answer where he colorfully told me he didn't want to talk about 'it'. And by the groggy sound of your voice, you have been in bed all day. Leading me to presume that Nick and yourself have gotten into a fight."

I didn't breath for a whole five seconds.

"I'm sensitive to your emotions, darling," she purred. "I really am. That's why tonight at seven thirty you and Nick have a date to Mila Kelly's 23rd birthday bash. Your couple status has already hit it off and people want to see more and with Mila being a good friend of the Jonas boys it would be a shame for one of the brother's not to show up."

"Scarlett, really I can't-"

"Contract, dear. I expect you can find a dress from the rack sent to your house. Make it in the dark blue shades please. Nick will be by at seven thirty sharp. And even if you hate each other, just play it with the cameras and walk away when they're gone. Alright?"

"Sure," I muttered. Then the phone went dead.

***

In the end, I wore a black dress.

It was my small act of rebellion, and the only amount I was willing to go with Scarlett being my holder of repercussions.

It was simple dress with large beige cardigan over it, fishnet tights and steady heeled ankle boots. After pushing my hair into a top knot, the stones started to place themselves in my stomach, twisting and turning until I was unsettled with nausea.

I really didn't want to face Nick.

So when the door bell rang, I grabbed my purse and was greeted with Nick's pained expression. His mouth opened, as if to say something, but with my averted gaze I closed the door and walked past him down to the parking lot.

Eventually I head his feet following shortly behind.

Nick rushed ahead of me to open my car door, my eyes steady on the now very interesting dashboard while he gave me a final glance before shutting it softly.

"Rayne-" His voice cracked and stopped to gather the broken pieces of his sentence. Then quietly, "We should talk."

My heart was in my ears, blood pounding throughout my veins and all I could hear was the silent thump thump flooding my head. I didn't want to respond. Maybe it had been a mistake to start a relationship with someone who I was paid to spend time with. Or maybe the foolishness just rested on Nick being Nick Jonas and I being Rayne Stephanie who couldn't uphold a job for more than a month.

"I don't really want to talk about it right now, Nick." The voice that echoed from my mouth was foriegn to my own ears. Small, weak, and helpless.

His jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. Putting the car in drive, he sped down the road.

The rest of ride was silent. Light music filled the absence of conversation and we sat in rigid tension awaiting the brilliant light of the birthday party. When Nick finally pulled into Mila Kelly's driveway our doors opened in a split second of the stop. Fresh air was clean to my lungs from the pollution of confusion inside the vehicle.

And I forced myself to think clearly.

Scarlett wanted a show. She paid me to be the "it" girl to rock star Nick Jonas. This was a job that I signed a contract too. I wasn't here to be Nick's friend; I was here to be his date, his arm candy, his girlfriend. There were no room for feelings or actual relationships. I was in New York and I was wearing a 500 dollar dress and I was stepping into a party full of dancing celebrities and heiresses and models and musicians.

I grabbed Nick's wrist, draping his arm across my shoulders.

"What are you doing?" Nick's voice was hoarse.

"What I'm getting paid to do." My voice was flat.

And when the door opened to the mansion, I let my hips lift with my step and my step fall to the beat of the ear splintering music. And I smirked at the hungry eyes of the cute actors by the bar.

I remembered now what led me to my party days when I first started college.

And I remembered now exactly how I shoved the feelings into a small box.

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