Chapter Text
Wednesday nights were sacred. In Miorine’s case, that meant sinking into her sofa with a glass of wine, her phone switched to silent. Shut off from the world. Quiet. Alone. Slightly buzzed, preferably.
It wasn't her MO to send messages on the way home from work—she went MIA the moment she clocked out and remained unreachable until the next morning. Any mails or calls went unanswered. Exactly how she liked it.
Are you free tonight?
But today was different. Miorine stared at the message she’d just sent. The train made a brief stop, and salarymen pushed off and on the car like a school of fish. She felt untethered, like she’d been sent spinning through zero gravity since her lunch with her dad.
You could come over.
The second message was completely unlike her. Miorine Rembran didn't ask for company. She never invited people over on a whim; least of all during her sabbatical Wednesday evening.
Right as she stepped out the train unto the platform, her phone buzzed.
Okay. Give me an hour?
Miorine exhaled, surprised by the relief that washed over her. Reliable to a fault; and Miorine had been using that to her own favor more and more. It should have bothered her – using people like that. It didn’t.
Great. See you then.
The familiar high rise with its window panes glimmering in the night lights did nothing to ease the knot in her stomach. Even stepping through the pristine lobby and calling the perfectly polished chrome elevator didn’t calm her nerves.
Her spacious apartment welcomed her like a measured hug. She poured herself a glass of Chablis by the kitchen island and took a long sip, hoping to dull the memory of her dad’s look when she had lied straight to his face.
“I’m seeing someone.”
That was all she had said. Blurted out, rather, when Delling Rembran began discussing several suitable young men he’d like her to meet. He had paused – fork at half-mast – before he’d nodded and said that he would like to meet this man.
Miorine had stared into her salad, realizing she’d dug her own grave and was now throwing herself into it when she’d simply said, “of course.”
She was on her second glass of Chablis when the intercom chimed. Across the screen was that reddish tint of hair and those big, blue eyes, looking shyly at the camera. Miorine felt a flood of relief as she buzzed her up.
It didn’t take long until there was knock on her door.
“Are you okay?”
Suletta asked as soon as Miorine opened the door. Her usual soft-spoken manner had given way to a tone of nervousness. Most likely, she’d sensed how out-of-place Miorine’s sudden request for her to come over had been.
“I’ve fucked up.” Miorine said without preamble. “Big times.”
Suletta came inside, kicking off her worn sneakers and taking the effort to line them up precisely. So tidy.
“Oh,” Suletta said, more empathically than actually worried. Miorine had a hunch that Suletta placed too much faith in her. “That bad?”
They moved to the kitchen, where Suletta leaned against the marble island and Miorine wilted unto one of the bar-stools.
“Worse.” Miorine took a gulp of wine. “I told my dad I have a boyfriend.”
Suletta’s eyes widened at this. Then, her eyebrows furrowed.
“Okay…?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“So you lied?”
“Obviously.” Miorine was about to take another sip when she noticed her glass was empty. She frowned. Then realized she was drinking on an empty stomach and hesitated whether this was a problem or not. “Have you had anything to eat?”
“No,” Suletta said. “Straight from class.”
“Do you mind Thai?”
“Um,” Suletta touched her neck in a self-conscious manner. “I didn’t bring any cash.”
Miorine shot her a disapproving look. Really, Suletta? It’s just food, she wanted to say. But she'd learned that their financial differences were best left unspoken.
“You bought me that coffee the other day,” Miorine said instead. Then, flashed the order confirmation on her phone. “There, ordered.”
“Thanks,” Suletta said, looking down. “I owe you one.”
“Just listen to what I have to say.” Miorine said, and sighed promptly. She remembered the impossible situation she’d created for herself and felt her spirit leaving her body. “He wants me to settle down. To find someone and get married. The sooner the better.”
“Seriously? We’re not even halfway through our twenties.”
“Tell me about it. He wants to do matchmaking. Have me meet up with suitors.”
A cold shiver ran through her. The mere idea felt unbearable.
“I thought you didn’t want to date?” Suletta asked.
“Exactly.” Miorine groaned. “I don’t want to date and I definitely don’t want to get married.”
“So you told him you have a boyfriend so you won’t have to do any of this… matchmaking? Really? In this age and day?” Suletta looked baffled. Lucky her. Miorine had been fielding these conversations ever since graduating University, because apparently her degree had come across as a please arrange my marriage certificate.
“Yes and yes. He’s old-fashioned.”
Delling Rembran was eager to see his daughter married. On good days, Miorine told herself it came from a place of wanting his sole daughter protected and loved. On realistic days, she remembered how little her own wishes seemed to matter.
Miorine sighed, again.
“But he’ll be off your back now, right?” Suletta offered. Empathically, because she was like that.
“Until he finds out it was all a big lie considering I already agreed to introduce this ‘boyfriend’.” Miorine muttered. “Unless I can conjure up a boyfriend within a reasonable time-frame, I’ll be caught in this lie.”
“Would that be bad?”
“He’d probably use it against me. Proof that I’m off my rocks, or something, say that I need someone to look out for me. Then he’d proceed with the matchmaking.” Miorine touched the foot of the wine glass, resisting the urge to refill it.
“Ouch,” Suletta said. Her adorably shaped eyebrows – like two little emotive clouds above her eyes – drew together in contemplation. “So you’re going to conjure up a boyfriend?”
Miorine hadn’t given it thought. As Suletta already knew, Miorine had no interest in dating. Nil. But this situation might require desperate measures, she realized. There was no way she was going to admit to her Dad that she had lied straight to his face. Not only that – she wanted nothing to do with this matchmaking business.
“Aren’t there fake boyfriends?” Miorine said, musing. “That you can rent? I think I’ve heard about something like that.”
“You mean an escort?” Suletta offered, and Miorine felt a flush of heat creep up her neck.
“No,” she hurried to say. “I’m talking about fake boyfriends as a service. Someone you can hire for a day.”
“Oh,” Suletta looked torn between horrified and amused. “I guess there’s a service for everything now.”
Miorine hated that she found herself considering this. It couldn’t be too bad, right? Just hire someone to play his part for one evening and be over with it. But the idea quickly fell through when she considered all the factors. Mostly, the factor of a father and daughter duo with the name Rembran attached to it.
“I have a feeling it’ll end in some kind of blackmail.” Miorine said, disheartened by the fact. The Rembrans were a household name, the sort that was the prefix to a large conglomerate. The emblem of old money – one that Miorine had been unwillingly marked with since birth. She had learnt that being obscenely rich meant complicated dynamics with other people. Blackmail was very much a risk she had to consider. She groaned and sank deeper down in her seat.
Suletta’s eyes narrowed in compassion. “Maybe… ask a friend? To play the part, I mean. If that’s how you want to do it.”
Ask a friend. Suletta made it sound so easy. Miorine wasn’t exactly swarming with friends. In fact, there was no one she trusted enough to even ask. She thought of the likes of Shaddiq and Guel, and shuddered. No, she’d only be digging her grave deeper. In fact, she’d rather bury herself alive than ever asking Shaddiq or Guel for a favor.
But she didn’t want to lay this out to Suletta either – that she had no one to ask.
So she cupped her chin in her palm and gazed into the empty wineglass. Just then, there was a chime from the intercom.
“That was quick,” Suletta said, already moving for the door.
Miorine didn’t see the need to mention she only ever ordered prioritized delivery.
Suletta came back, now with a plastic bag of take-out. She put it on the kitchen island and moved with a surprising familiarity for utensils and plates.
“That smells great,” Suletta said, grinning. “What did you get?”
“Crab curry and Pad Thai,” Miorine said, opening the bag. She bit down on a prawn cracker and finally allowed herself to pour more wine for herself.
Suletta served them, politely asking Miorine if she’d prefer curry or Pad Thai. Miorine pointed at the Pad Thai and bit back something in the tune of; I can serve myself. But she understood that Suletta enjoyed doing this. Always looking out for people and always eager to lend a helping hand. It was in her nature to care as it was in Miorine’s to guard herself.
Taking the first bite of the curry, Suletta stared down in her plate, looking oddly contemplative. Miorine was busy nibbling on her second prawn cracker and taking small sips of the Chablis, hoping to come up with an idea of what the hell to do.
“Does it have to be a boyfriend?” Suletta asked.
Miorine blinked.
“I mean,” Suletta cleared her throat. “If you don’t have anyone to play the part of boyfriend, couldn’t you pretend to have a girlfriend instead?”
Absolutely not, Miorine thought immediately. Partly because she didn’t have really have anyone to ask to play the part of a girlfriend, but mostly because this whole charade was about appearing steady and ready for marriage. Girls couldn’t marry girls. Plus, she doubted her Dad would approve of that sort of unconventional partnership anyway.
“No,” Miorine simply said, tentatively taking a bite of the Pad Thai. Refreshing, slightly spicy. She could feel the wine warming her body.
Suletta nodded, looking down in her plate again. They ate in silence for nearly a minute before Suletta spoke again.
“I could do a believable guy, actually.”
“...You could do what?”
“I dressed up as a man once, in a school play. Everyone told me I was pretty convincing.” Suletta said. Miorine realized Suletta was offering to play the part of the boyfriend and felt oddly touched by it; feeling at the same time exasperated because Suletta was in no shape of form passable for a man.
Suletta was decidedly feminine; the long, cascading hair, the soft-spoken manner, the gentle, slim hands. Even her tall frame somehow exuded a delicate quality, not the commanding presence that Miorine envied in others, but rather a willowy grace that made her seem more like she might bend with the wind than stand against it.
Suletta must have caught the dubious look on Miorine's face, because she pulled out her phone and quickly scrolled to a photo, angling the screen toward her.
"Look," she said, a hint of pride creeping into her voice. "That's me in the play. Not too bad, right?"
Miorine saw the photo and doubted her eyes. Unconsciously, she reached for the phone, staring at the screen in stunned silence. It was obviously Suletta, but it wasn’t the Suletta she knew.
There was no long, cascading hair; instead there was a shorter, tousled cut (a wig? ) which framed her face with deliberate carelessness, creating something startlingly androgynous. The gentle curve of her jaw appeared more angular, a thing more sharper and pronounced ( how?). But it was her posture, her manner, which really drove the point home. Shoulders squared, chin lifted with the quiet confidence of someone comfortable in their own skin, somehow adopting that ineffable masculine way of existing in space without appearing cocky.
Miorine blinked in confusion.
But then she looked up and saw Suletta’s hesitant smile, and the illusion broke – she was undeniably a woman.
“This is admittedly impressive, but it’s a photo, Suletta.” Miorine said, handing the phone back. “You would have to look convincing in person. If that’s what you’re suggesting? That you dress up as a man and pretend to be my boyfriend?”
Suletta enthusiastically nodded.
Miorine wanted to consider it. A solution to this situation was staring her in the face, albeit somewhat unorthodox—but the logistics screamed impossible!
Suletta—yes, that Suletta—dressing up as a man, playing the part of her boyfriend, and doing so convincingly enough to fool Delling Rembran? The very idea seemed ludicrous. There was no way it would work.
But even as Miorine silently ate, she found herself considering it.
“Let’s say you manage to act convincingly enough to fool my Dad.” Miorine found herself saying. “Why would you do it?”
There it was. Another factor to consider. Why would Suletta agree to help her out?
“Because you seem in need of help,” Suletta said, shrugging. “Maybe I’m not as convincing as the real deal, but I wouldn’t half-ass it.”
“But why would you help me out?” Miorine pressed. “We barely even know each other.”
They were acquaintances who had struck up an unlikely friendship through Friday evenings spent together at the soup kitchen—the kodomo shokudo—which Miorine had volunteered to join for reasons that weren't entirely altruistic. They always worked the same shift, an unlikely duo manning the kitchen side by side. They say opposites attract, and Miorine supposed there was truth in that, though it had mostly been Suletta who'd bridged the gap between them with her persistent warmth. She had somehow become a part of Miorine’s very private, closed off life – but that didn’t mean they were close.
“Miorine, we’re friends.” Suletta said, in an almost admonishing tone. “Plus, I can’t leave you hanging after everything you did for me.”
Oh, Miorine thought. That.
She had helped Suletta out once, in an uncharacteristic display of selflessness. She supposed Suletta felt indebted to her.
Or maybe this was how friendships developed? Helping each other out and not expecting anything in return. It made Miorine feel odd, like she was trying to read a map written in a language she’d never learned.
“It’s just an idea,” Suletta added. “But trust me. I think I can be a convincing enough man.”
It was the way she enunciated ‘man’, as if men were such uncomplicated creatures that playing one would be effortlessly easy.
It lured out a laugh from Miorine. “Maybe I’ll need a demo. To see if you can really be a man.”
Suletta shrugged, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. “Okay. I’ll swing by when you’re off work. In costume, so to say.”
“You’re serious about this.” Miorine wasn’t as surprised as she was awed by this. Suletta was the type of person who would saw off her own arm just to lend someone a hand. But Miorine wasn’t used to anyone going to such lengths for her sake. It felt… off. Like the Earth had suddenly changed course and was spinning the wrong way.
“I wouldn’t suggest it if I wasn’t serious.” Suletta simply said.
“But it’ll be a pain in the butt for you.” Miorine argued.
“Would it?” Suletta had that glint in her eyes she got when something exciting was on her radar. “I have a feeling it won’t be nearly as troublesome. Maybe we could even have some fun.”
“If you think it would be fun trying to fool my Dad,” Miorine said. “you and me have different ideas of ‘fun’”
“You were the one who suggested it,” Suletta said, her shoulders sagging just minutely. Then, just as quickly, she perked up again. “But really, I think we could do a great job. It wouldn’t have to be miserable.”
“Why am I not surprised you’re confident this is going to work out?”
“Because,” Suletta made a sweeping gesturing between them, “We make a great team. We always do a super-good job in the kitchen. We’re good at cooperating, so this wouldn’t be any different.”
Miorine couldn’t help it – a smile slipped out. “I wished I had half of your optimism.”
“No,” Suletta shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. “I’m the cheerleader, remember? You get to be the brains in this operation.”
A chuckle escaped her throat, and Miorine could feel the wine circulating because her cheeks suddenly felt pleasantly warm. Those were her words— words she'd used during a particularly chaotic week at the kitchen when Miorine had stepped in to handle the logistics, perhaps a bit more bluntly than necessary.
But Suletta still had that glint in her eyes, and that encouraging smile which seemed her default setting. It was impossible not to feel a little lighter just watching her.
“Fine,” Miorine said, surprising herself with how easily it came out. “I’ll be the brains.”
Suletta’s smile widened even more.
“But first,” Miorine jutted a finger at Suletta. “I need that demo.”