fake [s.m]

chapter three

chapter three
fake
[anya rose steinburg]
-
"hi yes could i get room service to suite 325?" i speak into the phone. "could i possibly have a margarita pizza with half cheese?"

"of course ma'am, any drinks?"

"a vodka on rocks, hold the soda, with three olives and a diet coke please." i say, looking at my oddly chipped nails.

"any services ma'am?"

"a mani and pedi please."

"is that all?"

"yes, thank you." i hang up, flinging myself back onto the bed, turning over into a ball.

the door clicks open, and i immediately sit up, tiptoeing towards the open crack of door. shawn walks in, putting his guitar down, and opening the doors to his room. they shut and music comes on.

i open up my door, going to sit in the main lounge to wait for my room service. they come after about ten minutes, with the food, and ten after 30 minutes with the services.

"would you like us to set up here or your room?" the server asks.

"here would be fine." i smile, sitting down on the couch.

"anya? who's this?" shawn opens the door from his room, and comes out, closing it behind him.

"oh this is a beautician, she's doing my nails." i say.

"okay well make sure you're ready by 7 okay? it's in four hours, if you need me, i'm in geoff's room." he nods at me, before walking out.

"brother? boyfriend?" she asks me, filing down my nails.

"boyfriend, well, arranged boyfriend." i sigh. "it's complicated."

"we have a lot of time." she winks. "i can keep a secret."

"he's shawn mendes, that canadian singer songwriter?" she nods. "well anyway his management want him to have a girlfriend. it pays money for me so i can study what i want to, not what my family want me to do, and helps me live too. so i applied, and here i am." i sigh. "my parents wanted me to go to columbia, in new york, to study medicine, but i rebelled against them, and took journalism instead. they got annoyed, stopped funding for my studies and basically shoved me out of their lives, i needed a job, and this one pays a lot."

"oh wow, i'm so sorry...?"

"anya." i answer, chuckling slightly.

"anya." she says. "he's very polite though."

"to you. he hates my guts." i sigh. "i get why, he's had a girlfriend thrown at him that he possibly has to spend the rest of his life with."

"you have to get married?" i shrug.

"eventually apparently." i look away, seeing shawn come back in. he looks at me, and we keep eye contact for a full on minute, before he looks away, going back into his room.

carefully, i pick up my phone, scrolling through my social media feeds.

"sorry i forgot my phone, see you in a bit anya." shawn waves. i wave back, not looking up from my phone, as he walks out, shutting the door behind him.

"he's hot though." she says, her english accent laced through it. she starts to paint my toes a white.

"i'll give you that, he is gorgeous."
***
"anya are you ready yet?" shawn lightly knocks on my door, as i slip on my black heels.

"yeah two minutes hold on." i rush to get my highlighter, my heels clicking on the laminate flooring.

i fan the bright champagne colour onto all the high places of my face, before dusting a shimmer spray over my exposed shoulders and collar bones.