Hester's mind was buzzing with thoughts as she tried to cross the street. Keyword? Tried to. She took the first step. Loud screeching of brakes. The man inside of the car calling her every derogatory word in his vocabulary. Even that seemed too far away, like coming from another dimension. Only by the mere force of habit did she shout something back, not caring one bit whether she was at fault or not. Aside from the nights spent studying and operating purely on energy drinks, there was a bigger distraction on her mind.
There was a poster on the other side of the street, letters screaming from a distance. Its bright, neon colors contrasted against the gloomy weather and pouring rain. It promised money, a lot of it. And whatever the conditions were, she couldn't pass on the chance to at least see what was happening. Even if it proved to be a scam, she had a lot of time to spare.
She was lurking nearby a café where Dot and Anadil worked. Her friends were inside for another overtime, a common occurrence these days as they chased for extra cash to keep them through the week. And their boss was fully aware of the fact they desperately needed money, making them work extra hard for every cent.
They were supposed to meet up thirty minutes ago, but Hester didn't want to make them feel like she was waiting for them. If she got too close to the shop, they'd invite her inside to wait, to hide from rain. And she didn't want to see the guilt in their faces as they apologized to her for being late, knowing well it wasn't their fault. And, partially, because she shared a mutual dislike with their boss, dating back to her disastrous interview as she tried to join along with Anadil and Dot. Where she set his office on fire. Accidentally. Or when he wanted to give her friends two hours of unpaid overtime and she spilled coffee on his shirt during an argument. Absolutely on purpose. But to her defense, she earned them better working conditions.
She squinted to read the fine print on the poster, eyes unfocused and vision blurry. Finally, the bell above the door rang. She turned. Anadil walked out, three cups of coffee balanced perfectly in one hand. Instinctively, Hester smiled, not realizing how glad she was to see her friend until then, the long wait suddenly worth it. But her smile froze as instead of Dot, a man was following her, dangerously close. And Anadil didn't look too pleased about it. Hester immediately bolted out from the corner, a twisting feeling settling in her gut.
"Come on, sweetie, one dinner with me won't kill you. I can pay you. Is that what you're after? Money? I've got plenty. What? Do you have any other plans? Am I not not good enough for you?" he kept asking, his tone increasing in loudness.
When Anadil saw Hester, relief fell over her face, corners of her lips twitching into a smile. "I've got a date. With my girlfriend right there," she said, pointing at Hester, making the word "girlfriend" extra clear so she caught the clue. Despite the anxiety twisting in her gut, she could feel obnoxious butterflies exploding as she said the word "girlfriend". Yet again, no matter if she had other business to take care of, her body decided to act all on its own. But she couldn't even complain, Hester coming in like her salvation.
It seemed to be working. She looked fairly threatening, being tall, her arms covered in tattoos, dark clothes with chains dangling off them, still fairly strong despite the last time she was in gym was long ago. And she had a paralyzer in her pocket, just in case. Not the kind of woman you'd want to cross.
She came up to them, cautiously. "Hey babe," she said with a sharp smile, softly taking hold of Anadil's hand, pulling her a bit closer as she looked the man into the eyes. She ignored the way her heart skipped a beat as their fingers interlocked. There was no time for that. No time to think about how warm her hand was, how soft her skin fel- No.
"Is he bothering you?" she asked, still staring at the man. He looked away after a while of constant uncomfortable eye contact. "Is there a problem?"
"No. Whatever." He slouched away, deciding today wasn't the day to deal with a possible public scene, more people cautiously looking at them. He spared them a few annoyed glances along the way, but gave up quickly.
"Seriously? Babe? Who uses that anymore? Sport bros?" asked Anadil, a small smile on her face. Her hand was still in Hester's and she made no effort to change the fact.
"Thank you for saving my ass from a creep, I appreciate that," suggested Hester, teasing. "What nicknames do you prefer when fake-dating? Wifey? Angel pie? Pumpkin? Sugar lip-"
"One more word and I'll rather hit up the old man," sighed Anadil.
"Feel free to, darling."
"See? That's at least normal," she said with a small chuckle. "But thanks. That asshole spent an hour waiting for my shift to end and kept telling me how he could treat me so well if I gave him a chance."
"We still can go beat him up," suggested Hester, her tone lighthearted, yet still ready to go at "yes".
"Should have just added poison into his coffee," muttered Anadil in silent agreement. Only then realizing how close they were. How her heart was still beating quickly, as if she just ran a marathon race, blood coming alive with their touch. "How was school?" she asked, stopping her thoughts from wandering too far.
"Shit. As always." With a sigh, she pointed at the heavy tote bag on her shoulder, thick books seemingly ready to fall out. "I have another exam coming out next week. No sleep for me until then."
"Can't wait to have you describing bullet wounds at three in the morning. Makes me sleep better, hearing all about bloody deaths."
"You've listened to true crimes podcasts before sleep, you have no right to complain."
"That's research." But the sight of Hester's books reminded her of the pile on her bedside table, growing thicker each time she ignored it, and her own exams creeping around the corner. And her refusal to acknowledge them only grew at the moment. She could barely walk, legs sore from spending hours walking between tables, cheeks burning from being stuck in a forced smile for too long, head about to burst from the study podcast constantly playing in her earphones. On days like these, she was just glad she had a friend that could play along with her and spare her the lengthy process of rejecting entitled men. Even if her friend was stupidly hot when looking like she was planning murder.
The cafe door opened and Dot came rushing out, cheeks red as she hurriedly took off her apron, coffee stains all over it. After a minute of constant apologizing, she stopped, almost ready to go. But then she glanced at their connected hands, her lips pursed in unsaid question.
And their fingers separated, hastily. Because if they didn't hurry, they might want to stay that way. "The creepy guy followed me outside, so we pretended to be dating," explained Anadil, in a matter-of-fact tone. It wasn't the first time they've done anything like that, so it went without a response. Not a verbal one, at least.
They didn't talk. Neither of them was in the best mood, exam season approaching and their funds at an all time low, leaving them with constant headaches and very little time to spend together. And even if they were with each other, their weariness seemed too hard to overcome. They walked along the poster. Hester couldn't help but stop to inspect it.
And she didn't regret it. A competition to celebrate love, hosted by a heartbroken, yet philanthropic billionaire. How fitting it was after their small fake dating scene. The first prize was the usual cheesy stuff, a dream wedding on a cruise ship, all costs paid. That hardly seemed achievable. But there were ten second places, each promised ten thousand euro, and another fifty spots promised some money. The conditions? A short video explaining what you want to use the money for.
That seemed at least worth a shot. "Let's join it," said Hester out loud, earning skeptical glances from the rest of her group. She was already deciding on how to do it, the thought of magically fixing everything consuming her whole.
"You've been single for at least a month," Dot pointed out. "Are you going to find someone new? The deadline is in less than a week. I don't think-"
Anadil stepped in, understanding what Hester meant. "You don't need to actually date someone. All you need is a short video with someone. Anyone could film that together."
"It's not possible to fake love," objected Dot, seeing that she was in the minority yet again, Anadil looking at the poster more closely now.
"How would they know? You can fake anything you want," argued Hester. It seemed real, too. Blakely, the billionaire, was known for his eccentric competitions. Of course, they needed some more research to see if it wasn't a scam. Maybe she wanted to believe it too desperately, holding onto the thought like a lifeline.
"Too many people will join. There's not a real chance of winning," shrugged Anadil. The offer seemed too perfect. And what seemed to be too good was entirely out of their reach. Maybe they were a month too late on rent and living on budget, it was nothing that couldn't be solved. They weren't that desperate.
"It is worth a shot," said Hester.
"You're not actually thinking about joining, right? Imagine you actually win and steal the money from a couple that are trying to build a home, that's just immoral," protested Dot.
"I'm sure the couple would appreciate knowing they helped struggling students. Dot, we live off tuna sandwiches and ramen. I'm sure no one would mind giving us a little financial help, right?"
"That's not what my point is." Any further arguing would be pointless. Whatever she said, she could only count seconds until Hester turned her attention to Anadil and managed to convince her of whatever she wanted. A group of three always meant two against one, and the outcome never seemed to be on her side.
"Ani, you'll join me on this, right?" Hester turned to Anadil, hope in her eyes. And even though Anadil wanted to refuse, she simply couldn't. What harm was in doing it?
With a sigh, she nodded. "Sure." Dot turned away, hoping the idea was stupid enough for them to not stick to it. It wasn't. A trainwreck of events was set to happen.
After a short fact check, they were satisfied. They only needed to make a minute long video together, stating what they would use the money for. Of course, showing some basic affection to make everyone believe they were dating.
Dot only wanted to watch impartially. Yet her disagreement with the idea slowly began to fade away as another red rent notice slid in under their door and they had to reconsider taking up second jobs. And, despite the pride of her friends, she realized they needed help. As genius as they might have been in their fields, they both had the acting skills of a rock. And as a film major, watching their attempts had been more than painful. Maybe a bit funny too, but she'd rather not mention the part to them.
As she walked into the room, they were shooting another attempt, stuttering through their lines, smiling fakely into the camera as they held hands in an unnatural angle to make the connection show. With a deep sigh, they turned off the camera, avoiding looking at each other.
"Take two thousand?" suggested Anadil. "Let's just give up. This looks everything but real."
"If we go through it some more, maybe..." started Hester, only then noticing Dot. "Fuck off if you're not here to help," she said, her voice half teasing, half entirely exaserated.
"I am, actually," said Dot, hoping to not change her mind halfway through. Not that she didn't want to see more of their failed attempts, but both of them seemed at the edge of dropping dead from exhaustion, trying to put the video together for at least an hour. "So, show me what you got so far."
And they did. With each passing second, she could barely hold her laughter. The thing was that they barely needed to fake chemistry. Because it took one look at them to suspect something more. The way their faces lit up with light when they were together. Not only lit up, but they were glowing, sharing their small smiles and secret jokes. And of course she noticed. How do you not notice after you third wheel for your friends without them noticing for years? Some days, when she couldn't stand their obliviousness any more, she tried to call them out, both of them denying it to death, the usual response "I would look at you that way too if you shut up for two minutes".
In the video, they sat as far away from each other as the screen allowed. They held hands, making sure it was visible on the screen and smiled as you smile at your boss' stupid jokes to get a promotion. And the text included some written words. That was the best that could be said about it. She didn't doubt their skills, but this felt as a parody at best.
"With the money, we will buy a dog and start a very cute family in the suburbs and start a life anew. Yeah. And we really need the money, please support us," was a direct quotation from the text, said with zero enthusiasm.
"Are you serious right now?" Dot asked, still chuckling between her words.
"We're trying to appeal to a straight middle aged man, what else should we do?"
"And we're not that serious."
Dot let out a sigh. "Be honest?"
"Oh, should we go like: 'Our fake love story began when we met at a youth detention center, because we were doing drugs and minor crimes, and now we are scamming your competition because we aren't even dating, we just need the cash."
"That would be better. Or just, a very sanitized version? Like you met in a camp. Yeah. Camp, that seems good." Hester shoved the tablet across the table towards Dot.
Without hesitation, she started to work, pouring all her energy left into the words. As much as she didn't trust in the competition, she didn't want her friends embarrassing themselves online. Especially not with the things they've produced so far. Less than half an hour later, she managed to complete a script. It was good enough to make them abandon their books and be ready to act it out. The result? Not as bad as she expected.
It seemed to be lacking something though, just two people sitting next to each other and talking about their undying love. Of course it seemed fake, they barely even looked at each other, not even touching.
"Do you two mind kissing?" she thought out loud, only earning a shrug.
"Sure."
Truth to be told, it wouldn't be the first time they've done so, or the last time. Everytime alcohol was involved, they weren't afraid to make out with each other, only blaming it on the intoxication. Even if they denied it, they seemed too eager for opportunities to kiss. To the point their friend group banned playing spin the bottle so they would stop cheating to end up together. They, of course, made exceptions when one of them was dating someone, except that always was short-lived.
Which they might have been the cause of, always cracking jokes about each other's sexual capabilities. They organized a small welcoming ceremony when a new partner was brought home, usually saying something along the lines of "hope you know how to fake it, you'll need to do it a lot" and "three out of ten for the finger game, maybe give her a wikihow tutorial", and then bringing cookies. However questionable it was, they did a great job at filtering out the most insecure partners. Mostly.
Other than that, it was never really clear whether they've hooked up at any time in their lives, but Dot never investigated, just glad they did whatever while being silent. The walls in their apartment were paper thin. With a huge hole in one of them that they've never bothered to fix.
She explained her master plan, shoving all her moral objections to the back of her mind. And soon, the final version of the script came to be. With even more editing, they agreed that it worked. It was getting late. They could see the precious seconds of their lives ticking away. You barely notice how time flies fast until you try to manage college and work, until every moment counts, and if you don't make the most of it, your day is reduced to work and sleep, an endless cycle.
As time came for the shooting, both Dot's friends seemed significantly more nervous, shifting around their seats, reading through the script over and over. They've done this all before. Having their share of drunken making out, intoxicated love confessions. One week relationships at best. And they always found a small reason why it didn't work, something stopping them, always ending it with a joke, nothing ever changing between them. Because they were too comfortable with what they were and the line to cross was too big. But it was fun to balance along it, tiptoe around it, wondering what could be if they just gained the strength for once. If they didn't have so much to lose when things go wrong.
There was no room for backing out now. It might have started as half a joke, but they needed the money. And so they went on with hastily practicing their lines to deliver them realistically, which proved to be an issue. Anadil's usual voice was too unemotional to sound real to anyone who didn't know her. Hester was unable to keep a straight face when delivering romantic lines. Together, they looked like abysmal actors, despite their best efforts.
After a lot more time of pointless practicing, Dot gave up. "Listen, you know what? Just remember what you were supposed to say and improvise."
Exasperated, she turned on the camera yet again and hoped for the best. As she commanded them to move closer to each other, their bodies seemed to understand their roles, leaning into each other as if there was no camera, just a normal day. They were awfully close, enough for their arms to touch in places, enough for Anadil's hair to fall at Hester's waist.
By what Dot believed was the work of a higher power, the freedom of words untied their tongues. Even with some awkwardness, the lines just flew out of them, fueled by their want to leave as soon as possible. Their bodies gravitated towards each other. Soon they were even closer, listening to each other's words, catching on naturally, as if they were just telling a funny story that they've both experienced and both knew how it went, having told it a billion times before. Finally, they talked almost normally, getting rid of the camera shyness. Which Dot never expected from them in the first place.
When the time for the kiss came, they were much closer than they begun with. All it should have been was a small peck on the lips. Yet it didn't seem like that at the moment, as they've forgotten about the camera and everything they've been doing so far.
They were so close, leaning in a few centimeters would be enough, yet the distance seemed uncrossable. As if everything they've built could be destroyed and built anew. As if this all could take on a whole new meaning, just if they made it that way.
The gravity of the situation dawned on them both, making them scared to make a move. Anadil leaned in suddenly, hoping to have her effort reciprocated. Closing her eyes, she could feel a strand of her hair falling loose. Then the soft hand brushing it away from her forehead. And then, smoothly, Hester's lips. Fuck. All the thoughts in her head suddenly stopped. Her lips parted by pure instinct. And suddenly Hester pulled her in, deeper, and she came undone, forgetting everything. The world around them stopped, it was just Hester's lips against hers and that was all that mattered. The soft tugging on her bottom lip. The tightness in her stomach. The way she smelled of gingerbread.
She was so eager to forget everything, just a moment of ignorance. And everything was fine. Then Dot coughed awkwardly, muttering something along the lines of: "Yeah, the time's up. Like, long up and, yeah. Excuse me," as she trailed off to the bathroom, or someplace else.
They separated, disorientated. With the words spoken, all the magic broke. Trying to untangle themselves, they distanced with awkward, soft pardons, avoiding looking each other in the eyes.
After they managed to convince Dot nothing was going on between them and they didn't need privacy, they all sat together to watch what they've had so far. And whatever black magic was involved, the result was good. Of course, it needed a lot of editing to be great, but whatever it was, it had potential. They weren't lying, technically, using all the sob story points, whether it was Anadil being kicked out of her house for being queer or Hester's whole family sitting in jail or being dead, or them surviving on their own for as long as they could remember. It was enough. And then there was the kiss, which took up another whole minute cause Dot forgot to turn off the recording. She felt almost bad cutting the part short, but her friends seemed too embarrassed to even look at themselves afterwards. Keeping more evidence of what happened than necessary felt like a bad idea. Because in the recorded seconds, they could easily see the hard concealed parts of themselves. And the sight never got any less disturbing.
Even more hard work later, the video was fully edited and sent. All it took next was just to wait. Exhausted, Dot went to sleep, knowing she did everything in her power for them to win. And they needed to win, a part of her mind already fixated on that. They needed the quick fix, to avoid all the struggles that would come without it.
The remaining two sat awake on the terrace, staring into the night. The conversation died out, yet the silence remained pleasant. After all, there wasn't much to be spoken. They did what they were supposed to, giving their best efforts to make the video. Everything that happened afterwards was in the far future.
A flame flickered as Anadil lit a cigarette. Soon, the only source of light seemed to be the small red dot of its tip. "Hope we win enough money for your lung cancer treatment," muttered Hester, grimacing at the smell.
"Fuck off, it's not like I smoke a pack a week," said Anadil mildly, not even arguing. There wasn't much to argue about, especially considering Hester being a forensic medicine student. "And if we don't win, at least I'll quit for good. This shit is getting expensive."
"Or do it now and spare yourself the extra trouble."
"I gladly will when I go live in a forest free of anxiety and men and capitalism. Until then, I'll gladly enjoy my cancer sticks." They've had the conversation before. Many times, yet nothing seemed to change.
"I'm just worried," muttered Hester.
"Like you don't have a list of things you should quit." Hester had her share of bar fights and drunken nights too, not sparing her friends any worries. She wasn't a new face in the hospital either, getting there with a range of minor and major injuries. And Anadil dutifully accompanied her during every single of her stays, however long, being soft and caring for as long as Hester was hurt, and then giving her shit for months afterwards just so she didn't try doing the same stupid thing ever again. And in moments, Hester certainly wished to have her persuasiveness. It would make things much easier.
But they were doing better. Much better than when they've met, two lost souls just searching for a way to die young and feel something in the time meanwhile, somehow finding an anchor in the other's presence. They never thought they'd make it into adulthood, but here they were, somehow in college, somehow still together and breathing and fighting from day to day.
"When we get the money, will we split, or will everything go to the household?" thought out Hester out loud, changing the topic once it was nearing an uncomfortable territory.
"To the household, I suppose. Two more years and we're done for good with school. We can even save some for the future."
"Do you think we'll still stick together later?" As they got older, more and more people asked them about their future. When will they move out? Will they stay in touch after university? The questions increased in frequency by time. And slowly, Hester felt them getting to her. It was supposedly weird to live with your friends after a certain point in time. But what else were they supposed to do? Future without them seemed hardly imaginable, and even less pleasant. Not that she wanted to be without a romantic partner, no. But her type was sitting right besides her and that was the closest they were ever getting.
"I don't see why not," shrugged Anadil.
"People always say that and then they never speak to each other again." That's why they were friends. Good friends. Best friends, even. Nothing more and nothing less, locking themselves up in a prison just so they couldn't leave each other. Because friendships brought far less issues than anything more.
"Don't think it will happen to us." Because they held on so tight it couldn't.
"Oh, I bet you'll find yourself a nice someone soon and just move to the other side of the world, not even thinking of your dumb friends." Her voice was tainted with snark, against her will.
"Are you jealous of someone who doesn't exist?" But it wasn't just people who didn't exist. The possibility was there, it was real, lurking around the corner with each moment. Everytime Anadil brought someone over, Hester was painfully reminded that she never was an option.
"You know what I mean. It always ends that way."
Anadil chuckled drily. "Yeah, sure. And then you'll be the one leaving."
"With my commitment skills, definitely. I can totally just commit to one person and leave everything behind for them. Not that I'd get bored after a week and leave." To her misfortune, besides being in love with her best friend for years, she couldn't bear to be alone for too long. No hard feelings involved. It was just easier to pass time in someone's arms than to face the truth.
"Well, you still haven't left us, so I guess you can. How long is it already? Eight years?"
"Can't be that long," muttered Hester, knowing fully well it probably was even longer. "What do we know, maybe Dot will leave us after all. Become a suburban mom or something," thought Hester.
"If any of us become suburban moms, the rest has the full right to move in to the neighbourhood and terrorise us."
"You're halfway there. With your tuna sandwiches for lunch, I feel like a schoolgirl. But my mother knew how to cook. I think."
"Oh, fuck off, I grew up with a chef. At least I'm trying. Improving every day," said Anadil, fully aware that her lunch-making skills were horrendous. But at least they provided food. When Dot had time, she at least made things worth eating, but her list of foods was not compatible with the little groceries they could usually afford.
"You're absolutely not. After we get a reasonable budget, I'll make sure you never go near a kitchen in your life."
"Please do." But then they settled in the silence, both knowing fully well how small was the probability of their budget improving. They felt like they were hanging on the edge of a cliff, losing strength and the competition was a rope to their direction, seemingly a salvation.
"Listen, if we don't win..." started Anadil.
Hester dismissed her with a wave of hand, not too keen to discuss the possibility. "Rock paper scissors about who gets a second job."
With a sigh, she continued. "I can still go to my mother and ask her nicely for money."
"You always keep offering that as if it was a real choice."
"It is a real choice." Anadil's voice hardened.
After she got kicked out, there was a lot of on and off drama, even resulting in the police coming, simply because her family wanted her back, but on her knees, begging to be taken back with the conditions they decided on. Which she had no intention of doing, cutting herself off their financial network. Which she later regretted many times, yet never came back.
Turns out, they were even more desperate than she ever was. She was a heiress, a sole one at that, and losing her was a hard blow to their company. But their condition for her return still stood- she had to apologize and find a suitable partner. A male partner. And she never did.
"Just because you think this is your fault doesn't mean you have to fix anything."
"It is my fault. Come on, we could have lived comfortably if I wasn't stupid, we wouldn't have to smile and kiss for the camera like fools just because we don't have the time to work extra, we-"
Hester's gaze made her stop.
"You know I'm right," she added, non-convincingly.
"No, I do know you're horrendously wrong and I'm waiting for you to realise because you surely can't be as stupid as you are."
Anadil sighed, staring off into the void. She didn't notice the cigarette shortening, burning her finger. She put it out against the table, muttering a curse word. "You just don't want to hurt my feelings."
"Oh, please, when have I cared about hurting anyone's feelings?"
"All the time. You're practically a goth marshmallow." Because Hester was famed for her diy stick-and-poke tattoos and not soberly made piercings. And her procedures were famed for their safety and definitely hygienically approved.
"A poisonous marshmallow."
"Whatever you say." The clock struck midnight, finally pushing them to go to bed, reminding them painfully that even though tomorrow was a weekend, they still had work to do. As they stood up, the chilly air touched every inch of their skin, forcing them to make a run into their apartment. Chuckling slightly, they went to the quiet of their apartment, wondering what came next.
A week later, their wonder turned cold. And so did the smiles on their faces as they read through the e-mail. Most people would be overjoyed to find out they've got a honeymoon cruise with all expenses paid. Most would even be overjoyed if they heard they have all the funds available for their dream wedding onboard.
The issue? The condition was their marriage, which meant much more than just kissing for the camera. And even worse, the rewards didn't include money.