Caleb

You're already a fictitious girlfriend, like a base in your family. Caleb is handsome, no doubt about it, but something was strange.
One evening, you were sitting in your room, completely immersed in the process. Your phone was propped up on a tripod, a scattering of makeup lay before you, and your favorite playlist was playing through your headphones. You were recording the latest installment for your metaphorical beauty blog—the one no one knew about. No one, including your fake boyfriend, Caleb.

"Screw it," you hissed, smiling as you picked up the concealer. "Let him think I'm crazy." Okay, girls, next I'm applying the NARS concealer. I love its texture and how well it covers up under-eye circles. I also apply it along the sides of my nose and...

The door creaked. You froze, feeling a chill run down your spine.

"Who are you talking to?" Caleb's question made you close your eyes.

You opened your eyes and looked at him with the most innocent look you could muster.

“To myself,” you answered evenly.

He crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. He didn't believe it. Of course he didn't believe it.

• For what?

Your shoulders slumped. There was no point in pretending any longer. You gave Caleb a disgruntled look and blurted out,

— I run a metaphorical beauty blog.

He froze. Silence fell over the room. So thick you could cut it with a knife.