C H A S E

"You've been pacing around for ten fucking minutes," my other good friend Taylor, deadpans.

"And for good reason." I groan, flopping down on the bean bag beside her. "Why do you think someone, who has no interest in me whatsoever, let's be honest, would agree to date me?"

Taylor's eyes brighten as she munches on chips. "Who is this goddess? I wanna meet and kiss her feet and worship her every single day for not falling for your jerk cheap tricks."

I grumble. "She is not all that."

"Or is she?" Taylor wriggles her eyebrows. "Ugh, had I known about this Maya Roy before, I'd have wooed her myself."

I scoff. "Moved on from Lorraine already?"

"Okay first of all, she was a bitch. Second of all, she was a bitch." She flips me off. "Good riddance I'd say and hello? You have terrible choices. Never set anyone up on a blind date again."

"Okay Miss 'I love Lorraine, I'm gonna make her my wife'—" My words remain unfinished as a pillow hits my face.

"Fuck off, jerk." Taylor snaps. "I thought you were here for love advice, not to pull my legs."

"Love advice is a stretch. I'm here to understand the complex mind of women who're least interested in a guy but agree to date them."

"Fake date them because you'd rather lie than owe up to Elliot. Right." Taylor hits right at the spot. Gosh, I hate how blunt she can be at times. Well, most times.

I sigh. "I cannot, for the life of me, bring myself and tell Elliot 'Hey, I fucked your girlfriend for three days'. He will be crushed and I cannot, just cannot, do that to him."

"Three days? Oh you're fucked." Taylor snickers.

"It's not my fault, okay?" I put my hands up defensively.

The memories of how Maya literally called me a bastard friend for deliberately fucking my best friend's girlfriend, resurface in my mind and irk me. How dare she assume without knowing a single thing about me?

I shake my head, plucking her out of my head. "You know my policy. I don't have sex with women in committed relationships. If I'm aware they are dating someone, it's a hard NO. Not my freaking issue if some would like to hide that from me."

Taylor nods. "Mhm fair. But I still think you shouldn't lie to Elliot, you know. He'd understand."

"No." My answer is immediate. "I just can't. Taylor, he will break. I can't do that to him. Not after everything he's done for me."

"Which is why you should tell him, but well I don't know. You guys are best buddies after all." Taylor rolls her eyes. "And back to your 'advice'. You're getting this from a lesbian who has no interest in men romantically, by the way."

"I know, I know but you guys have one thing similar. Maya dislikes me, and you—"

"Dislike men most times." Taylor deadpans. "I don't get your point."

"I am a man. And so, you dislike me most of the time."

"I do," Taylor answers without hesitation. Gosh why do I even call her my best friend.

"The advice?" I go on. "Why do you think Maya, who had no interest in fake-dating me in the morning, suddenly changed her mind last night?"

Taylor goes into a deep thinking pose while continuing to munch on chips. "Perhaps, she pities you."

"Impossible. No one can pity me." Even the thought irritates me. Me? Chase Dalton? Girls line up to date me. And what, suddenly a girl out of nowhere would pity me? Hard chance.

"You're awfully full of yourself, you know that?" Taylor rolls her eyes for the nth time. "I mean, I don't know. She suddenly feels like dating you? Fake-dating you."

Taylor emphasises on the fake as if Maya Roy has no desire of dating me, actually. Well, yeah, I can agree she hasn't shown any interest.

And that...annoys me.

Some call me narcissistic, I call myself the main protagonist of everyone's lives. Ever since I was born, I've been the centre of the spotlight everywhere I went. From nannies, to strangers, everyone gushed at me. I was and am the apple of everyone's eyes.

It's not odd that I'm naturally used to attention. Without attention, if there is even a single person who shows disinterest in me, it frustrates me.

Of course, with fame comes hatred and I have loads of haters. However the way Maya looked at me, as if I was inferior to her, wanted me to prove her wrong.

I am the king of my world, yeah?

Taylor snaps her fingers in front of me, bringing me back from my thoughts. "Listen, don't think too much. Maya agrees to fake-date. That's it. What more do you need anyways, dude?"

I groan. "I don't know. There is something that feels incomplete." I click my tongue in annoyance.

I absolutely loathe when my thoughts spiral about a person. I should be the one in their minds, not them in mine.

Wait...

"Taylor...what if—"

"Hold that thought." She squints her eyes. "I don't like that expression."

I smirk. "What if I prove her views against me wrong?"

"And...what do you mean by that?"

"Fooling around a bit, acting flirty, caring." I shrug. "Nothing hard. The bottom line is, Maya will immediately have heart eyes for me."

"You are alone on this bro." Taylor returns to her chips, and turns on my PC to play her stupid games.

"Fine. Maybe, it's a challenge with myself."

I smirk to no one. "Watch Maya Roy fall for me in this one month."

Taylor sing-songs from the side. "I hold no responsibility if you die by her hands after that month ends. She is kinda hot and badass from what you made of her."

I hate how the voice inside my head agrees.

* * *

"Do I really have to?"

"Duh," Isabelle Liu states matter-of-factly while applying her lipgloss. "Babe, you need to socialise."

"Says no one. And your definition of 'socialising' is equal to getting laid."

Isabelle rolls her eyes. "Babe, there's no fun in having a little fun. Don't wanna get laid? Fine. But at least go out there and I don't know, meet people. It's way better than remaining holed up in the depressing corner of your room, buried in books and endless online research papers."

Isabelle is the most straightforward girl I've ever crossed paths with. And turns out, she is also my roommate.

The first few weeks were...interesting. I had to get used to her outgoing mannerisms and blunt words, until I realised she had no rude intentions. She does care but in her own, well, unequivocal way.

I won't call Isabelle and I really close friends, or best friends. Our personalities do not match, and frankly we are just living as roommates. But, we quietly understand each other and know when and where to respect the boundaries. We are friends plus acquaintances at best.

A symbiotic relationship, if you will, with characteristics of the Mutualism category.

However at times, like now, she uses me as an excuse. Not that I don't agree with her. She is correct. I do need to get out and have some fun going—but I don't know if I'm capable of it.

"You know Isabelle, if your parents call, I can just say you're studying or napping or something."

Isabelle groans. "They won't believe it. Going out with a straight-A student like you is much more believable and trustworthy to them, 'cause they think you will influence my academics somehow." She shakes her head, as if removing all those thoughts.

Neither Isabelle, nor I, know much about each other's personal matters or familial situations. But I do know Isabelle comes from a wealthy background and strict parents, who want her to complete her Bachelor's in Law from HallWood, then attend Harvard Law like the rest of her family did.

Isabelle wanted to do ballet. And the rest is history.

"Okay fine." I give in, strapping in my heels. "I'll go but no trying to set me up on blind dates, that I'm so not interested in. Okay?"

"Okay okay." She puts up her hands defensively, then with a squealing giggle hugs me—which takes me by surprise.

I hug back, patting the girl who is a tad bit shorter than me. I don't know why, it feels like embracing my little sister.

* * *

The ride to Moonlight Club doesn't take long. Isabelle's boyfriend (whom I do not like because his personality sucks—not that my roommate is ready to hear anyone) was our designated driver. He didn't look like he enjoyed that though.

"There's a crowd." I mumble.

"Of course there is." Isabelle sarcastically replies in a 'duh' tone. "You don't have to actually go in. You could maybe..." She looks around. "Hang out there?"

I look at where she is pointing. It's a relatively empty space with fairy-lights hung around. But I do spot several pairs sneaking there to do the obvious. "I'd rather not."

"Well, maybe not."

"You can go ahead." I sigh. "I'll manage."

Fifteen minutes later, I find myself in a circle of Truth or Dare, with Chase Dalton beside me.