3. Keaton

Fisheye25:Hey…

Here it is.

I look at the notification on my phone, and I know this is it.

I gave it a good shot, tried to win fair and square, and did everything I could, but time is up. It's time to fake it.

I unlock the phone and open the Cinderfella notification on Fisheye25's message.

Kuddlebear: Hey to you too.

I send my reply and open his profile.

He has a handful of photos available for everyone to see. The first is of his face, covered entirely by his hands, with a single hazel eye looking at the camera.

Pretty.

I scroll to the next one, a set of feet dipped into water, a crystal blue ocean as far as the eye could reach. The third is a white wall with a dark shadow, the silhouette of a naked body.

It's so perfectly curated that it intrigues me, even though I know he's bound by contract to reply and engage with me.

Perhaps this should put me at ease. Not having to worry about impressing someone, not agonizing for hours about the perfect reply or where it will lead. It would put me at ease if it didn't make me feel so dirty.

Fisheye25: Kuddlebear, huh? Why the K?

The new message pops up, and I smirk.

Kuddlebear: My name begins with K.

Kuddlebear: Plus, I've been told I'm a bit of a bear.

The message dots dance across the bottom of the screen.

Fisheye25: A bit of a bear? Like a werebear? Or an otter? Or a were-otter?

I burst out laughing, and for some reason, I look around my dark bedroom as if I'm disturbing someone.

The only ones around to disturb are the ghosts of my dead sex life, and those didn't even stick around long enough when it was alive. I doubt they're still here now.

Kuddlebear: Maybe you'll have to find out for yourself.

The dancing dots are back, and I watch them, trying not to think about the social media update I'll do later.

I've put it off as long as possible. It's time to fake it.

I'll play it cool in my updates since I'm not supposed to know that this guy will work out. For all anyone knows, Fisheye25 is just a troll or a rando. But behind the scenes, I'll weave a perfectly manufactured lie for the world's—and the stock market's—attention.

When did this become my life?

Fisheye25: kk, but TBH, this is how horror movies start.

His message makes me laugh again, and I turn to my other side.

Maybe I won't have to fake it at all. I haven't even met this guy yet, and he's already entertaining me. If he's as sexy as he is funny, we'll definitely get along.

I tap his name at the top and go back to his profile to have a proper gander. Make sure everything is all right before the internet sleuths dissect it for themselves.

**Fisheye25

Age: 25

Online now

5.3 miles away

"A picture is only a picture if you let it."

Height: Cute, bottle-sized

Weight: Wouldn't you like to know

Ethnicity: White

Body type: Where's the mystery if I tell you?

Position: Leave something for the first date

Relationship status: Single as a soul can be

Looking for: Friends, Chat, Prince Charming

Succinct and cute. Leaves a lot to the imagination and looks real, which is the most important.

I know I'm gaming the system with what I'm doing, but I need it to hold up under investigation by all the trolls trying to prove I'm a scam.

Which I now officially am.

I wish I could have left things as they were, continued publicizing my romantic escapades, sat back, and watched the stock go up, but it doesn't work that way.

Yes, my journey has garnered media attention and helped with the stock market, but I'm not in the clear yet. There's still lots of work to do. The world doesn't want only disappointments and efforts. They want wins. They want romance.

At least the board has given me an extension, although that's probably because they're keener to see me fall face first than because they appreciate what I'm doing and its effect on our shares.

They probably think I'm giving them more ammunition for when they take everything away from me.

But I won't let them.

Which is where Fisheye25 comes in.

As far as usernames go, it's very out there. I wish he'd picked something better, something that doesn't sound so…strange, but I guess it'll have to do for now.

And if anything, it gives me something to talk about.

Kuddlebear: Says you…Fisheye.

Kuddlebear: What does that even mean?

Kuddlebear: How do I know you're not a catfish?

I bite my lip, waiting for the response.

Fisheye25: lol. I'm not a catfish. Just a photographer.

Kuddlebear: Pfft, that's what all catfish say.

Fisheye25: All catfish claim they're photographers??

Kuddlebear: Well…artists of some sort, I think.

Fisheye25: Oh, good. Saves me from learning all the techy-techy photo lingo.

I chuckle and shake my head.

Who knew fake silly talk could be so funny.

Dammit. Stop it, Keaton.

The guy might be contractually obligated to talk to you, but there's nothing fake about this conversation.

If anything, it's probably more realistic than the dozens of men I've talked to on here asking me whether I'm top or bottom before a hello.

Kuddlebear: Ha! I knew it. A real photographer would say wizz-techy.

Fisheye25: Busted!

Kuddlebear: There's no escaping the Kuddlebear.

Fisheye25: If you cuddle as good as you talk, then I'm sure of it.

Kuddlebear: Only one way to find out…

Fisheye25: I'll get the bear spray just in case.

I laugh again, and this time, I get up to empty my bladder.

I may be paying this guy, but this is probably the most stimulating first five minutes of conversation I've had in a while. And I've had so many.

Too many to recount to my followers. Thankfully, I've set up some filters around my profile to avoid serial offenders and dummy accounts.

It bodes well for me that this Fisheye guy is smart—at least on paper. It should make selling our romance a little bit cuter and funnier. A little more romantic.

I sigh. Who could have told me I'd one day resort to paying for romance? I'd grown up around enough marriages of convenience to know that was not what I wanted for my life.

I guess I'm like them now. My parents and all their peers measured greatness in gold rather than heart.

I get back into bed and sink lower than before. As if the whole bed is trying to swallow me whole.

Remember why we're doing this.

I take a deep breath and unlock my phone, returning to my conversation with Fisheye25.

Kuddlebear: So…do you have a name, catfish?

Fisheye25: I do…

Kuddlebear: And it is?

Fisheye25: …

Fisheye25: Promise you're not a werebear?

Kuddlebear: Bear-claw swear.

Fisheye25: *rolls eyes* Funny.

Fisheye25: It's Milo.

Milo.

Somehow, I'm not surprised. It's a cute name befitting the striking eye on his profile picture.

Kuddlebear: Nice to meet you, Milo.

Kuddlebear: I'm Kit.

I've had to use fake names for all my interactions until now, especially since going viral, for safety and to avoid pranks. I know Milo isn't a threat, but if I'm going to sell our chat as real, I need to keep up appearances as if he's a stranger.

Which he is.

A perfect stranger who I'm paying a hell of a lot of money to save my ass.

I hope he's up to the task.

As much as I trust Elite, I won't know what kind of person I'm dealing with until I meet him in person.

But for now, for simplicity's sake, chatting will have to do.

Fisheye25: Kit. I like it.

Fisheye25: Kit Kat.

Fisheye25: Kitty Kat.

Kuddlebear: Wow. What a downgrade. I went from Kuddlebear to kitty!?

Fisheye25: You think kitties are a downgrade? Wow. I want a divorce.

Kuddlebear: Litigated and uncontested.

Fisheye25: Hmm…you're probably the first person to make legalese funny.

Kuddlebear: I've got a lot of skills.

Fisheye25: Oh yeah? What other *skills* do you have?

Kuddlebear: It's a long list.

Fisheye25: I'm a big boy. I'm not scared of no list.

A shiver runs through my body and my cock stiffens.

Really?

I give my chub an evil glare and shake my head in disappointment.

Has it really been that long that even the hint of sex talk gets me revved and ready?

Well, I don't exactly remember when the last time I had sex was, so that's probably answer enough.

Kuddlebear: I can give it to you in person. It goes down much smoother.

I hit send, and my cock goes rock solid as confirmation that I am, indeed, fucking pathetic.

Fisheye25: Mmm…when can you give it to me?

Fisheye25: The list, I mean.

I choke and look away from the phone to find my free hand has cupped my erection without my permission.

Great. Now my body parts are acting independently of my head.

Kuddlebear: Friday? 8 p.m.?

Fisheye25: I can't wait.

I lock my phone and put it face down on the mattress, going over the past few minutes in my head.

I don't know who Gracie picked for the job, but if his online persona is anything to go by, he's golden. A promising young man.

Now, let's hope the story breaks the internet.