Nathan

The most boring part about my everyday life by far is attending meetings. No matter what they're about, whether it's PR stuff or talking about upcoming events, they always make me feel like I'm back at school and sitting through two periods of Physics.

This one, however, I know is important, so I'm trying my best to pay attention as Murphy goes through the details of the contract I'm supposed to sign.

"Now, the main point is obviously that neither you nor Mr. Scott are allowed to tell anyone that this relationship you'll be having is staged," he says. "By signing this contract you will agree to take all the necessary steps to make it believable. We will now go through a bunch of things that you and Mr. Scott could do together in order to gain the media's attention, and I want you to tell me honestly which ones you agree and which ones you disagree with. Alright?"

"Sure," I say, leaning back in my chair.

Sitting around the table in one of Saturn Record's conference rooms, there's Murphy, my brother, and my publicist Chelsea, who now flips open her laptop. 

"Okay. One idea we had is to have you guys attend the Golden Mics together in a few months. You know, the big award show? There are always a ton of celebrities with their partners, and obviously a bunch of press. Couples on the red carpet always make it into magazines." She looks at me, waiting for my opinion with her usual polite smile. 

"That's fine by me," I say, albeit a bit hesitantly. It feels weird, picturing myself going there with a guy I don't even know. Well, don't know yet; I'm going to go home right after this meeting, and if his flight didn't get delayed, he'll probably be there already. The thought of it has me nervously shifting in my seat.

Adrian's voice right next to me snaps me out of my thoughts. "Are you sure?" he asks with a frown, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's a few months away. You do know that by committing to this, you're also committing to being with him for that long, right?"

Yeah, I didn't think about that. "I know," I say. "It'll be fine."

Chelsea takes this as her cue to chime in. "Besides, all of this won't be worth it if we only do this for two months. Nathan should really stay with Mr. Scott until then."

I try not to let my discomfort show. A few months can be a long time, Adrian is right about that. He's always right about things like this.

"Nathan, you know you don't have to do this," Adrian says slowly, eyeing me warily.

I offer him a smile that I hope looks more composed than I feel. "I know. I want to."

"It's too late to cancel now, anyways," Murphy intervenes. "Mr. Scott is already on his way here."

"Exactly. Please," I say, gesturing at Chelsea, "Go on. What other ideas did you have?"

Flicking her platinum blonde hair over one shoulder, she looks at her laptop screen again. "Well, we were also thinking about having you guys do a photo shoot for a magazine or two... If we can arrange that, that is."

I nod without missing a beat. Photo shoots are something I'm used to, so that won't be a big deal.

"Next we thought that Mr. Scott could star in one of your music videos. What do you think about that?"

"That's fine," I say after a second of consideration.

Chelsea types my answer into her laptop and is about to say something, but Adrian interrupts her.

"Whoa, not so fast," he says. There's a frown on his face, one that I'm all too familiar with. It's his Nathan, you're my little brother and I love you, but what you're doing is fucking stupid-face. "Aren't you going to ask what kind of music video that's supposed to be first? Jesus, Nathan, this is an official contract. You can't just agree to all these things without knowing the details first."

I drop my eyes to my lap, where my fingers are fiddling with Naira's friendship bracelet on my left wrist. Reluctantly, I ask: "What kind of music video is it supposed to be?"

"Oh, it's nothing too out of the ordinary," Chelsea is quick to say. "Just some choreography and maybe some kissing between the two of you. That shouldn't be a problem, right?"

I have never kissed someone before. "No, that's alright."

Adrian's incredulous look weighs heavy on me, but I purposely don't look in his direction.

"Very nice," Murphy says, his shark-like smile shockingly white against the fake tan on his face. "Now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's continue with the contract. In addition to all these projects, I would also like you to spend at least fifteen hours a week around Mr. Scott, just so that you can become acquainted. Thoughts?"

I sneak a cautious look at Adrian, but beside his clenched jaw, he gives no sign of disapproval of that part of the contract. "I don't mind. Do we, like, actually have to talk to each other or is it enough if we stay in the same room?"

"It's only important that you know each other well enough to make your interactions in public seem natural. If you can do that by just sitting next to each other in silence, then that's fine with me," Murphy sneers.

"Right," I murmur. To say that I'm looking forward to spending that much time with Elijah would be a lie; truth be told, I'm kind of terrified of being face-to-face with him after watching the video he sent in. Maybe I should've picked one of the other applicants. Maybe I should've never agreed to do this.

"Awesome," Chelsea says and pushes her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. The light from her laptop reflects in them; I'm pretty sure they're non-prescription, just as fake as the colour of her hair. "I just want to emphasize again how important this is and how much we will profit from it if all works out. Your next album will come out soon, so it's important that people don't lose interest in you until then. Do you think you can do that?"

I'm not sure. "Yes."

Murphy straightens the cuff links on his suit, expensive and utterly over-dressed for a regular meeting like this one, and says: "This will help you go far, kid. Trust me, we will bring you to the very top."

My only reply is a tight-lipped smile. It's a promise that I've heard dozens of times since I've moved to Los Angeles; I will make you famous; This will be your breakthrough; Soon, everyone will know you. It's amazing and terrifying and by far not as unlikely as it seemed a few years ago. It's something I'm not even sure I want, but fame feels like a train without brakes, blindly rushing on and on, and by now I'm not so sure that I am the one setting the course.

"That's all we have to talk about for now," Murphy continues. "Are you ready to sign the contract then?"

"Yes."

Chelsea nods and types away at her laptop; a second later, the printer behind her spits out two pages. She gets up and brings them to the table for me to read.

I do so quickly, eyes skimming over everything we've talked about. Murphy comes up behind me and hands me a fancy black ballpoint pen, his name engraved on it in golden cursive. I take it but don't sign the contract just yet, sliding it over to Adrian instead.

He flashes me a rare little smile before he bows his head and carefully reads everything, once, twice, brown hair falling into his eyes. By the time he's done, Murphy is already tapping his foot impatiently.

"Thanks," I quietly say, nudging Adrian's knee with my own under the table. Then I finally take the pen and sign each copy of the contract in one swift motion. The result is a signature that barely resembles my name, thanks to the routine that comes with giving thousands of autographs.

Murphy nods his approval and takes one copy, leaving the other on the table for me. "Very nice. Now that that's settled, do you have any more questions?"

"No, I'm fine for now. I'll text if anything's unclear."

"Alright." Murphy squeezes my shoulder and I try not to stiffen under his touch. "Have a safe drive home and have fun getting to know Mr. Scott. Just don't get to know him too well just yet." He winks at me, like this is some sort of inside joke that I'm in on, and leaves the room with Chelsea in tow.

Adrian continues glaring after him even as the door has already fallen shut. "I can't stand that fucker."

"You can't stand anyone."

Adrian doesn't disagree.

"Will you be coming home with me to meet him?"

He shakes his head. "No, I have a date. Besides, I couldn't care less about that guy. I'll see him soon enough."

Getting to my feet, I study his face. "You still don't like the plan, do you?"

"It's not the plan that I hate," he says curtly. "It's your reasons for committing to it."

Now I regret asking him in the first place. With an uneasy shrug, I nod at the door. "Alright. Are you coming? He's probably there already."

Adrian does stand up, but deliberately ignores everything I've just said and continues: "I wouldn't even be mad if you were doing it for the money or the fame, 'cause that's something I can get behind. But honestly, this... this is just so fucking dumb."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I know exactly what he's talking about.

"Nathan..." He rubs at his forehead, frustrated with me. When he lowers his hand, the frown is gone, replaced by a softer expression. "I just want you to know that you shouldn't do this just because you feel like you need to be in a relationship with someone. Because that's not true."

I avoid his eyes by staring at my feet. "I know."

Adrian takes a step closer. "Do you really?"

I don't answer.

"Nathan," he says again. "Do you really know that?"

My voice is too soft to make my answer sound believable. "Yes."

My brother's eyes never leave my face, piercing and unyielding. "I want you to. We've talked about this before." We have. It was a long conversation, me with a trembling voice and a stuttering heartbeat, him listening carefully and silently until the very end. No comforting words or kind advice because that's not the way Adrian works, but a tight hug and a smile that promised the same fierce protection he always provides. "It doesn't matter that you don't feel attracted to people. It doesn't make you anything less than perfect." He closes the small distance between us and curls a hand around the back of my neck, making me look at him. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," I say again.

I know that he's right. It just doesn't always feel like it.

"Good." His hand moves up to ruffle my hair before giving me a shove towards the door. "Now let's get you on the way so that that little experiment of yours doesn't have to wait too long."

"He's not my experiment," I mumble, but Adrian either doesn't hear me or doesn't want to. I quickly grab the contract from the table before I follow him outside.

My personal assistant is waiting for us in the hallway with her phone in one hand and her large leather briefcase slung over her shoulder.

"Hi Kelly," I say, smiling apologetically at her. "Sorry for the wait."

"That's alright," she replies and starts walking next to me. "I just got informed that Mr. Scott has landed a few minutes ago."

I nod, trying not to freak out about the fact that he's already on his way to my house. "Okay. We should probably hurry then."

"Your chauffeur is already waiting for you outside the building. Would you like me to file that away for you?" she asks and points at the contract.

"Oh, yeah, that would be great." I hand it to her and watch as she quickly stows it away in her bag.

We make our way to the elevator in silence, as per usual. Even though I spend a lot of time with Kelly, she's one of the most distant of the people I work with, always impersonal without being impolite. When I first got to know her, I tried to make conversation with her, but I have given up on that by now.

As we step into the elevator, my fingers are itching to press the button that will bring us to the second floor, where my studio is located. Right now I'd give everything just to be down there, not to write, but to ground myself before facing the guy I will have to pretend to date for the next few months. But Adrian has already pushed the button that will get us to the first floor and the elevator begins its descent.

No more stalling, no more hiding away. It's time to meet Elijah Scott.