Fourteen.

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“Your brother is on the phone.”

My head shoots up and I smile softly, though I know I shouldn’t really be all that happy. I mean, I love him, I’ll always love him, but what he didn’t isn't something to love about him. Maybe he beat himself up about it enough, or maybe he hasn’t thought about it at all.

Placing my hands on the desk, I push back in the office chair, sliding backwards as I hold my hand out for the phone that Sandy is holding. He places it in my hand before walking over to the couch and plopping himself down on it. “The guys will be here soon.”

I nod my head, ignoring his presence like he knew I would. “Hey, Maddox.”

“What’s up, little kid? Mom told me that you're dating someone.” His voice is as rough and deep as ever, and I can still see the vibrant tattoos covering his arms and most of his chest. “She said it’s not real dating though. What’s that mean, kid?”

Kid. I've been kid since dad walked out on us when I was little. He was more like my father and I was the little kid who he had to watch now that mom was working two jobs – one during the day and one at night. But, instead of being a term of annoyance, it was a term of endearment.

Groaning, I loll my head backwards. “It’s a complicated arrangement, Mad, but yeah. It’s mostly for publicity.”

“You don’t need publicity, kid. Want to tell me what the deal is really giving you?” I could never get anything past him, and I thought that I would be able to start lying to him now that I could only talk to him over the phone. The guy is so insightful for a dumbass.

“Listen, Mad, I've got this, okay? Mom hasn’t had to work in almost a year and I'm making sure it stays that way. We always need publicity. You think that I want to keep playing small venues? I want to sell out arenas like the great rock bands did.” I take a deep breath, inhaling slowly through my nose as I prepare to tell him the rest. “The money from this deal doesn’t hurt.”

He would have known as soon as I mentioned that mom hasn’t had to work in a long time. While he was dumb enough to get involved in underground fighting, he isn't dumb enough to let something like that go over his head.

The line is silent for what feels like hours, but I know it’s been nothing over a few seconds because he has limited time. “The money isn't for mom, is it?”

“Well, you get out soon, in a year, and we both want to make sure that you have something to get you back on your feet. Let’s face it; we know that you're not going to want to come back and live with your mom.” What I'm saying makes sense to me. It’s my turn to look out for my brother. But, I don’t think he’s going to be okay with that.

And really, this is pretty easy, if you ask me. Pretending to date Harry hasn’t been so bad. The letters from his fans haven’t been the greatest, but I can deal with it. It’s not that hard to just stop reading things. I mean, I know that what we’ve been doing isn't real, but at times it felt real. Like when he called me beautiful in front of a bunch of people with their cameras and phones out.

I liked the time we went on a walk along that pier late at night, when we knew only a few people would be out. I had plans to go down the shore with some friends and he had been told to join us. At that point I had no idea what was planned for us and what he had planned. In reality, he could have just done everything that he was told to.

All the sweet nothings that he would tell me when we were alone could have just been part of the plot. I mean, there was nothing real about us in the beginning, so who is to say that this is real now? No one. And it’s not like the two of us have talked about it.

I'm not a great actress. Making me fall for him would look great in the tabloids. Make what we’re doing look real. I'm sure they’ll make me look like the bad guy in the end.

The flowers that he would send to my house – I would thank him and he would tell me that it was not a problem and that he did it because he wanted to. Did he even know they were being sent?

Or that one time we flew all the way to Paris for the day. He had something to do and had asked me to go with him. He worked all day and at night we saw all the sights we could get in. I had always wanted to go to Paris. I was more of a fan of Latino culture, but Paris and the lights had always been something I wanted to see. How am I supposed to know if he remember me telling him that one night at dinner or if his management team had read about that in an interview of mine?

While Maddox is most likely worrying about the fact that I'm doing this for money, selling myself, I'm more considered that I just put my heart on the line.

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⏰ Last updated: Aug 18, 2014 ⏰

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