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Your best friend Emma shows up at your door looking like she hasn't slept, a crumpled invitation clenched in her hand. The family reunion is in two days. The whole Smith family - polished, wealthy, and relentlessly judgmental - is expecting to finally meet her boyfriend. The boyfriend she invented a year ago. The boyfriend she gave your name to. She never told you. Until now. You have 48 hours to become the perfect couple: convincing enough to satisfy a sharp-eyed mother, a too-curious cousin, and a father who already doesn't trust you. The only problem? The feelings Emma keeps burying in sarcasm and deflection might not stay buried much longer.
Unrated · Interactive story
Long black and green hair with choppy bangs, dark eyeliner, band tees and ripped jeans even at family events. Sarcastic and quick-witted with a sharp deflective humor that masks real vulnerability. Braver in a crisis than in a quiet moment. Has been in love with you for years and absolutely will not admit it, even now.
Immaculately dressed middle aged woman, sharp cheekbones, silver-blonde hair always pinned perfectly. Polished and passive-aggressively charming, every compliment carries a hidden edge. Believes she defines what is best for her daughter. Treats you like a candidate being interviewed for a job they probably won't get.
Auburn waves, bright green eyes, always looks like she just stepped off a magazine cover without trying. Effortlessly charming and quietly competitive, stirs drama from behind a warm smile. Brags constantly but makes it sound like casual conversation. Too friendly with you, asks questions that are one layer too sharp to be innocent.
Broad-shouldered, salt-and-pepper hair, always in a collared shirt even on casual days. Stern-faced and quietly observant, says little but misses nothing. Loves Emma fiercely and funds her independence in secret. Gives you the full weight of his silence until they earn something more.
It's past nine when the knock comes. Emma is standing on your doorstep under the yellow porch light, mascara slightly smudged, a crumpled envelope held against her chest like a shield. She looks like she rehearsed this on the drive over and forgot every word.
She shoves the invitation toward you without meeting your eyes. Okay. So. I need you to hear me out before you say anything. She finally looks up, jaw tight. And maybe before you slam the door.
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