The soft morning light filtered through the tall glass windows of Damien's apartment, turning the polished wood floors a muted gold. The city outside was quiet for once, its usual hum softened by the lull of the holiday break. Maya sat curled on the far end of the couch, her knees tucked to her chest, nursing a mug of coffee she'd made far too bitter. Damien's apartment still felt surreal to her -- sleek, modern, and so quiet you could hear your own thoughts if you let them wander.
She was halfway through scrolling on her phone when the low vibration of Damien's phone broke the stillness. He glanced at the screen from where he leaned against the kitchen counter, his expression sharpening the moment he saw the caller ID.
Without a word, he swiped to answer, his voice lowering into a tone Maya hadn't heard before -- polished, deliberate, the kind of composure that belonged to someone who'd been raised among people who measured every word.
"Good morning, Mother."
Maya's gaze flicked up at that single word. His mother. She'd never met the woman, but she knew enough from Damien's occasional offhand comments -- and the understated luxury of his apartment -- to picture her as elegant, perhaps intimidating.
"Yes, I'm still in the city," Damien said, his tone steady, polite. "No, I haven't made any plans that day."
There was a pause. Maya couldn't hear the other voice, but she could tell from the subtle tightening of Damien's jaw that this was not a casual call.
"A gathering?" he repeated, though it sounded more like a statement than a question. His voice cooled slightly. "No, I'm not..." He stopped, listening again.
Maya leaned back against the couch, trying not to look like she was eavesdropping, though her curiosity was piqued.
"That won't be necessary," Damien said at last, but his mother must have disagreed, because his jaw flexed again. "I don't need to be matched with anyone."
That caught Maya's attention fully. Matched?
He exhaled through his nose, a soft, humorless sound. "Mother, I said I'm not interested."
Silence, then her voice -- still inaudible to Maya -- must have pressed harder, because Damien's expression changed. The edge in his eyes softened into calculation.
"I already have a girlfriend," he said suddenly, his tone even and matter-of-fact, as if this truth had been there all along.
Maya's brow shot up. She looked around, as though expecting to see another person emerge from the shadows.
"Yes," Damien continued, "I'll bring her. That way there's no misunderstanding."
There was a longer pause this time, and then he simply said, "Goodbye, Mother," before hanging up.
He stood there for a moment, phone still in hand, eyes unfocused. Then he pocketed it and crossed into the living room, his steps unhurried.
"What?" Maya asked the moment he sat on the armrest of the couch near her.
"What what?"
"That phone call. Don't 'what what' me. You just lied to your mom about having a girlfriend?"
Damien tilted his head slightly, the faintest smirk ghosting his lips. "Yes."
"Why?"
He leaned back, propping one arm casually against the couch. "Because she's hosting some high-society gathering and decided she'd use it as an opportunity to match me with someone. I wasn't interested."
"So you just…" Maya gestured vaguely, "invented a girlfriend?"
"Not invented," he said smoothly. "Acquired."
Her eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"That's where you come in."
She blinked at him. "…Excuse me?"
"I need you to act as my girlfriend for this gathering. Just for the evening. It'll stop her from arranging anything else."
For a moment, Maya just stared at him. "No."
"No?"
"Absolutely not." She set her coffee down, shaking her head. "Do you even hear yourself? That's -- God, Damien, that's a terrible idea."
"It's not terrible," he countered calmly. "It's simple. You just smile, stand beside me, and endure a few conversations. You don't even have to talk to her much if you don't want to."
Maya pressed her lips together. "Why me?"
His gaze didn't waver. "Because you're here. Because I trust you not to make it worse. And because, frankly, I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have on my arm that night."
The words caught her off guard, softening her immediate retort. She folded her arms, still trying to look unmoved. "You realize this is going to be awkward. Painfully awkward."
"I can handle awkward," Damien said. "And so can you."
She hesitated, chewing on her lip. "What happens when she asks questions? Real ones. Like how we met, or how long we've been together?"
"We'll prepare answers," he said easily. "It's one evening, Maya. After that, she'll stop bothering me about matchmaking. You'd be doing me a huge favor."
Maya groaned, leaning back into the couch cushions. "I can't believe you're serious."
"I am."
Her gaze drifted toward the window. The thought of pretending to be Damien's girlfriend -- standing beside him in a room full of people who actually belonged in his world -- made her stomach twist. But the alternative, she realized, was leaving him to deal with whatever perfectly-matched socialite his mother had lined up.
She glanced back at him. He was watching her with that steady patience he seemed to reserve for moments when he knew he'd win.
"…Fine," she said at last, dragging the word out like it pained her. "But only because it's one night."
His smirk returned, subtle but triumphant. "One night is all I need."
"I'm going to regret this," she muttered, reaching for her coffee again.
"Probably," he said, standing and heading for the kitchen. "But you'll look stunning doing it."
She threw a cushion at him, which he caught without turning, and for a moment the apartment felt warmer -- not because of the sun streaming through the windows, but because of the unspoken shift between them.
The rest of the day passed in a strange undercurrent. They went about their routines -- him at his desk, her sprawled on the couch -- but every so often, Maya would catch him glancing at her, as if already imagining how the night would play out.
When evening came, the tension didn't disappear. If anything, it deepened, unspoken but present, especially when they continued their game of truth and lies that night.