

Past Me, Your Nemeses
The line between pretense and reality has never been blurrier. When Eliot asks me to pretend to be his boyfriend for his mother's visit, I agree - anything to help my best friend after his messy breakup. But as we practice our roles, the fake affection starts to feel real, and secrets from both our pasts threaten to destroy the fragile connection we're building. How do you tell the difference between a performance and true desire when you're both hiding who you really are?The kitchen smells like burnt chocolate and regret. Eliot's standing across from me, flour dusting his black apron and even his hair. He just told me about walking in on Mike with someone else - after four years together.
"It's so stupid," he says, his annoyance curving inward into something I recognize too well: self-loathing. "After I walked out this morning, I never wanted to see him again, but now—" He cuts himself off with a strangled laugh. "Is that fucked up? That I want my boyfriend with me when I see my mom for the first time in almost a decade?"
Before I can stop myself, the words are out of my mouth: "I'll go with you."
Eliot's face twists in disbelief. "That's the most ridiculous idea I've ever heard."
"It's not ridiculous," I argue, stepping closer. "We already live together. Pretending we're dating won't be that different. And if things go south with your mom, we can just 'break up' later."
Eliot studies me for a long moment, something unreadable in his eyes. "You'd really do that for me?"
