Project 2025 advisory board members have attacked or outright called for the end of no-fault divorce, the option to dissolve a marriage with
Justin Horowitz at MMFA:
Project 2025 advisory board members have attacked or outright called for the end of no-fault divorce, the option to dissolve a marriage without having to prove wrongdoing by a partner. Research highlighted by CNN found “no-fault divorce correlates with a reduction in female suicides and a reduction in intimate partner violence,” including “an 8 to 16% decrease in female suicides after states enacted no-fault divorce laws.”
Project 2025 is backed by a nearly-900 page policy book called Mandate for Leadership, which extensively outlines potential approaches to governance for the next Republican administration, including replacing federal employees with extremists and Trump loyalists and attacking LGBTQ rights, abortion, and contraception. The Heritage Foundation’s proposals have a track record of success — the first Trump administration implemented 64% of Mandate’s policy recommendations. Project 2025 is also supported by a coalition of over 100 conservative organizations, many of which have spent years promoting critiques of no-fault divorce as “destructive” for society — or even blaming it for enabling a “culture of death.” According to a Media Matters review, at least 22 Project 2025 advisory board members have made similar comments targeting, restricting, or eliminating no-fault divorce.
Additionally, MAGA and far-right media figures have pushed for the removal of no-fault divorce laws across the country, and several local Republican parties in Texas, Nebraska, and Louisiana have called for the dissolution of no-fault divorce in some capacity.
Project 2025 partner organizations, including the American Family Association, Concerned Women for America, Family Research Council, and The Heritage Foundation, have called for significant restrictions or an outright ban on no-fault divorce.
In a fit of jealousy over Nancy’s perfect new boyfriend, Steve falsely claims to be dating someone too. Robin recruits you to help Steve out, despite the fact that you’re practically strangers. | MASTERLIST
⤷ Fucking Brad ›› Hawkins Elementary puts on Peter Pan, Steve has FOMO, and you have all sorts of crazy plans 8k
Fucking Brad. Brad, with his slim waist and his broad shoulders and his chiseled jaw. Brad, who doesn’t slouch and can grow a full beard and always smells nice. Brad, who is the better version of Steve in every way. He’s the Ken of Barbies. He’s what every man wishes he looked like at thirty-two. He’s like Steve, if Steve had Botox injections and a gym membership.
And God he has stupidly good hair. All layered and cropped like it’s trimmed every other week. But effortless in the way it sits perfectly on either side of his face. He probably hasn’t had a bad hair day in his life. And even worse, Steve’s yet to find a single gray hair on the man’s entire head.
It’s too good to be true, obviously. You can’t be that attractive and a good person. Steve doesn’t make the rules.
But Nancy seems happy. And as a good ex-husband and father of her children, Steve’s trying to be happy for her and her new boyfriend. There’s just this sharp little shard of his heart that never quite slots back into its old place. And every time he thinks he’s patched it up, Brad comes along and knocks it loose again.
The divorce took a heavy toll on Steve. He’ll admit that now, almost a year down the line. He lost weight, then gained twice as much back. He pushed Robin so far away that they didn’t speak for two months. It really changed him. It made him question things he used to be so sure of.
Nancy was never cruel, not even on their worst nights. But the arguing became constant. Steve slept in the kids’ rooms more than his own. He became obsessed with finding solutions that Nancy didn’t care to try.
She was never cruel, but she did break his heart for a second time. So maybe that’s part of the reason he tells her a little white lie.
It happened last week. Steve had been out of town for the weekend and subsequently didn’t have the kids for a whole week straight since Nancy couldn’t swap days with him. And this is the longest he’s not seen them in… probably ever, so he’s extra excited to pick them up. He even offers to drive to Nancy’s house on the other side of town rather than meet her somewhere halfway. But guess who pulls into the driveway at the same exact time as him? Brad.
And Caroline, bless her sweet little second-grade heart, beams across the yard, right past Steve’s car up to Brad’s. Steve remembers watching in a daze, the scene unfolding in slow motion. His heart wrings itself in his chest just thinking about it. Caroline, his firstborn, his baby girl, his own flesh and blood, betrayed him, for fucking Brad.
It’s not fair. Nancy breaking his heart is one thing, but his daughter? At this rate, he’s not sure he’ll live long enough to walk her down the aisle. And like hell he’ll let Brad be the one to do it.
Steve steps onto the driveway and quickly receives the same armfuls of enthusiasm Caroline treated Brad with. He kneels to hug her back properly, both arms around her waist as he sprinkles kisses along the side of her head.
“You’re back!” Steve feels the shape of a big smile through his shirt.
“I missed you,” he says, pulling back to see her lovely face, “so, so much.”
Caroline is proof that Steve’s done something right in his life. He finds more and more evidence every day. It’s in her kindness to strangers and her bottomless well of curiosity and her sunbeam of a smile that weirdly looks like a smaller version of his own. He used to hate the way his teeth looked in his mouth but now he wonders why.
He’s received comments about their alikeness since the day she was born. She obtained his hooded eyes, his square jaw, and his strong nose. She has lighter eyes, like Nancy’s, and lighter hair, like Steve’s when he was her age. But still, Caroline’s his carbon copy, his mini-me.
“Missed you too, like, more than the whole universe.”
“Woah! More than the whole universe? That’s a lot of missing to do.” His fingers crawl across her chest until she arches away in a fit of giggles. “Is your poor little heart okay?”
Brad waves incessantly from the top of the driveway until Steve glances up. He’s not an asshole, he waves back, but he can’t help his smile curdling into something sour.
Caroline, of his two children, is by far the least likely to lie to him. She burst into tears the last time Steve caught her red-handed and over something so insignificant he couldn’t even tell you what it was. But her words feels hollow when the memory of her picking Brad over him still stings fresh. Logically, Steve knows it wasn’t a malicious decision. Caroline’s a daddy’s girl to her core. But just knowing doesn’t make the hurt ache any less.
Steve pulls Caroline up as he stands. “Where’s your brother?”
“Mom said he can’t play outside ‘cause he got in trouble at school.”
“What happened?”
“He threw rocks at someone.”
Steve presses his lips together with a hum. “Not good.”
Caroline beats him to the front door, swinging it hard enough to shake the house. “Dad’s here!” she announces.
Steve’s still in this weird limbo about entering the house without Nancy’s permission. To his knowledge, she’s never cared when one of the kids has invited him in, but it feels sort of wrong because he hasn’t lived there in quite some time.
It’s a quaint little home at the top of a hill, purchased in their early twenties when Nancy was pregnant with Caroline. So many years of his life, etched into floorboards and door frames and garden stones that he rarely ever sees anymore.
In the foyer, a riot of blonde fur slams hard into Steve’s knees. He’s expecting it, delighted more than anything to greet his honorary third child, Daisy. Eighty pounds, a golden retriever with more energy than Steve knew a dog could have. She was a Christmas gift from Steve to the family, a surprise Nancy has slowly grown to love over the years. Still, she would’ve been happy to let Steve take her, Daisy’s always been more his than hers, but signing the lease on a place that doesn’t allow pets complicates things.
Steve’s crouched on the floor, receiving a face full of wet kisses when someone smaller barrels into his side.
“Daddy!”
Steve’s hand catches the carpet before he falls, his free arm slinging around his youngest, Andrew. “Hi, buddy.” He pulls him in for a forehead kiss but pushes him back for a better look at his face.
He’s got big brown eyes, round like Nancy’s, and feathered with a long set of lashes. He’s a fair mix of their genes, Nancy’s button nose and pointed ears but Steve’s thick hair and plush lips. He’s like Daisy, with endless reserves of energy and no off switch, but he’s half the dog’s size, tiny, even for six.
“Hi.”
“Hi. How was school?”
“Good,” Andy smiles, words whistling in the gap his front teeth left behind. “I got something from the treasure box and I had music specials today.”
Steve gives his shoulder a loving squeeze. “That’s fun. I heard you got in trouble though, hmm?”
“Barely. It wasn’t really bad. I had a timeout but mom says I still can’t play.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll talk to Mom.”
“Talk to mom about what?” Nancy frowns from the doorway, crossing her arms over her chest.
One thing from their marriage that Steve doesn’t miss is Nancy materializing out of thin air. She’s quiet and quick on her feet, always appearing at the most incriminating moments. He can think of a dozen times he’d gotten in trouble for letting the kids do something she already forbade.
Steve shifts his focus to her begrudgingly. He presses his lips into a cordial, tight-lipped smile. “Why can’t he play? He said he had a time-out already.”
“Because he didn’t do what I asked, Steve. I know you like to let the kids get away with everything, but in my house there are consequences.”
“Okay,” he raises his eyebrows and his smile slips away, “unnecessary.”
She breathes a quiet sigh, hooking her fingernail under the fresh tear in her tights. “It’s been a long week.”
“Sorry.” Steve means it because he’s been there, but he doesn’t waste much sympathy on Nancy these days.
Brad fills the leftover silence as he zips down the stairs, his fingers drumming along the handrail in time with his hums. “Steve!” he grins. “How was Florida? Catch some sun?” He cruises over to Nancy with a much gentler excitement, pecking her head with a soft, “Hi, honey.”
Steve wants to gag. No, he wants to projectile vomit all over their nice floors. He stands and chooses to look at Nancy as he replies the simplest, “Yeah.”
Nancy stares blankly back at him. He used to have some kind of superpower when they were in love. Could read her mind by looking at her eyes alone. But these days he can’t tell her frown from her smile, let alone her thoughts.
“Is your dad doing better?” she says.
“Yeah, he’s– yeah, fine. He’s home now.”
“Good.”
Andy pulls Brad down to his knees, eager to funnel a “very important” secret into his ear. Steve tries, but he can’t decipher any words over Nancy’s voice.
“So, can you take him?” she asks.
“Where?”
“The dentist. Are you listening to me? I said his appointment is after school.”
A vein pulses on Nancy’s forehead, though Steve isn’t privy. His attention swings across the living room behind her like a compass needle, always pointing to Andy and Brad. They’re both giggling, falling onto the couch like ragdolls. Steve’s never had worse FOMO in his life.
“Yeah, sorry, yeah. I’ll take him,” he answers finally.
“He’s been complaining about his mouth since last Tuesday. Think he has a cavity.”
Steve nods. Nancy nods. The silence is awful.
She turns her nose to the stairs and he knows she can’t bear the awkwardness either. “Andrew go get your stuff. Caroline!”
“What!”
“Come on! Dad’s waiting!”
Andy shrieks and Steve turns instinctually. It’s a happy shriek, he finds, paired with pleads of, “Again! Again!”
Brad nods knowingly, slotting his hands under the boy's armpits and swinging him up and up and up until he launches him right back into the couch.
Andy’s thrilled, of course. But Steve doesn't know how to feel. There isn’t a sound he loves more in the world than his kids laughs’, but his body tells him what is happening right now is all sorts of wrong.
“Oh and don’t forget about the play on Friday,” Nancy adds.
Steve can’t answer. He can’t fucking think over the sound of his molars grinding against each other. A switch flips in his brain.
“It’s at six I’m pretty sure. Care’s pretty nervous so just, I dunno, don’t bring it up maybe.”
“I’m bringing someone,” he blurts.
Nancy shifts her weight from foot to foot, her stare sharp as a thumbtack, pinning him right to the floor. Why the fuck did he just say that?
“Who?” she asks strangely. Her mouth is smaller like she’s mad. But her eyes are curious, a sudden softness to them.
Steve clears his dry throat but finds no relief. He hasn’t fucking thought this through. He shrugs, his chin tipping toward the floor. “Just this girl I’ve been talking to. She’s…” He chances a glimpse up but steers his eyes away from Nancy’s the second they land. “It’s kinda gettin’ serious, so, you know.”
“Really?”
He squirms at the way she says it. He feels like he’s in trouble and about to get an earful. “Yeah,” he swallows, “Yeah. She’s great. You’ll like her.”
“How long?”
“Hmm?”
“How long have you been seeing her?”
His eyes rove across the ceiling as he pretends to count the imaginary days he’s spent with his imaginary girlfriend. “Ya know, a few months.” He frowns for show, “Give or take.”
Nancy chuckles wryly. She very clearly doesn’t buy it. And of course, she doesn’t buy it, they were married for a third of his life, she knows Steve inside and out. Steve is officially, utterly, and irreversibly doomed.
“Time flies when you’re having fun,” he slips in nervously.
“Right.”
“Yeah, so…”
“Okay, well, I look forward to meeting her.”
“Okay. Me too. Well– to you meeting her. I’ve met her, obviously.”
Her mouth twists in a struggle to hide her amusement. “Okay, Steve.”
This is pathetic. Steve’s never been more embarrassed in his life. Ten-plus years he’s had to make a fool of himself in front of Nancy and nothing will ever top this.
Tiny arms curl around his legs and he knows they’re Carolines before he’s seen them. She’s a foot taller than Andy and ten times as gentle. Her ear presses into Steve’s side, her hair newly pinned with a set of plastic butterflies. Steve’s positive she gets prettier by the day and he’s just grateful to have anyone besides Nancy to look at.
Andy hustles down the stairs not long later, sneakers swinging from his wrist by the laces, wearing a backpack twice the size of his chest. And with both kids in sight, Steve cuts straight for the front door, encouraging a round of goodbye hugs and kisses for Mom from the safety of the porch.
On the ride home, Caroline has a deck of questions about his trip. If Grandma and Grandpa still live in that big house on the water. If the airplane ride was bumpy or not. His favorite– if he ordered the fish tails (popcorn shrimp) from that restaurant they all went to last time.
Eight years he’s been a dad and to this day the infinite questions never fail to fascinate him. And even more remarkable, how Caroline remembers things from years ago like they happened this morning.
He hadn’t told her why he went to Florida or the real reason she couldn’t come. Steve’s dad had a minor health scare, and if it weren’t for his mom calling in hysterics, he probably would have saved the PTO. He spent most of the trip in the hospital, listening to his dad fuss about every possible thing he could find to complain about.
Nancy preached honesty when it came to explaining things like this to the kids. But Caroline’s a worrywart. Steve couldn’t let her spiral, certainly not over his dad of all people.
He’s very happy to be back home. And even happier to be distracted from his poor decision-making by the bottomless pit that is his daughter's brain. But time flies when you’re having fun as Steve apparently says now. Dinner goes fast, and bedtime even faster.
The kids are asleep and he’s left to simmer alone in his stupidity. He replays the conversation with Nancy on a loop, each turn twisting the words until he can’t tell what’s real apart from what he wishes to have said. He fucked up, that much is clear. And for what? A fleeting satisfaction if Nancy had believed him? He truly can’t think of a time in the last ten years he’s said something so dumb.
Steve dials Robin’s number and slips the phone against his ear as he opens the fridge. He stares at his groceries, or lack thereof, and listens to the phone ring and ring and ring until he’s turned over to Robin’s answering machine.
“Hi, you’ve reached Robin! Or, well, it's not, obviously, because you're talking to a machine. Anyway, I’m probably busy doing something incredibly important, so, leave a message, and I’ll call back– unless I forget— which, statistically speaking, is very probable. Sorry.” –Beep!
“Hi, um, this is Steve.” He shuts the fridge door and swipes the takeout menu from the magnets on the side. “I’m having an… emergency type of situation and if you really, truly love me you’ll call me back, like, as soon as you get this. Yeah, okay, bye.”
Robin’s at work he’s pretty sure. That or sucking face with her new girlfriend, Lin. She’s busy a lot nowadays, Steve just as much. It’s put a weight on their friendship but Steve can’t imagine his life without her. She’ll surely call him a dumbass or an idiot or the classic dingus for what he’s done. But being snarky with each other is their love language; he looks forward to it.
Steve’s three or four Cheers’ reruns deep when the phone rings. He rocks himself out of his recliner and takes the half-empty pizza box in his lap back to the kitchen. He’ll be the first to admit, his evenings aren’t all that glamorous. But things could be worse and he’s happy with the majority of his life’s choices– minus the most recent one, obviously.
The phone slides against the pizza grease on his fingers. He pins it between his ear and shoulder to swipe his hands down the front of his shirt as he speaks, “You know, you’re lucky this isn’t a life-or-death emergency. I’d have been dead hours ago.”
“Uh-huh. Tragic,” Robin rasps. “I’ll write your eulogy for you. ‘Steve Harrington: untimely death by dumbassery.’”
“That’s not a real word, genius.”
“It is now. I’ve made it one.”
“You can’t just make it a word. That’s not how it works.”
“No, it is. Check your dictionary.” He hears the clinking of pans, water running in a sink. “But wait, what did you do? Lock your keys in your car again?”
“Ha, no. I wish.”
“Forget to pick up the hellspawns?”
“No, Rob.”
“What? It’s happened before,” she laughs in that scratchy way she does. He can picture her whole face like she’s stood there beside him. “I dunno, I’m tired. I give up. What’s the crisis?”
“Um, so, I told Nance that I’ve been seeing someone and that it’s serious and I’m bringing her to the kid’s thing on Friday.”
Robin’s silent long enough for Steve to pull the phone back and check if the call’s still connected. But her laughter builds slowly, rattling through the speaker in beats. “Oh no, Steven.”
“Yeah, so…” He shears the last bite off of the pizza he was working on before and tosses the crust back into the box. “I’m fucked.”
“You could say that.”
“Thanks for the encouragement.”
“Sorry, sorry. I mean, fuck dude. Why’d you say that?”
“I don’t know, okay? It was stupid. I fucked up.”
“Big time.”
“I have to figure something out.”
“Can’t you just say it fizzled out? You had a good run, but you weren’t right for each other, cue dramatic sigh, problem solved.”
“No! She knows, Robin. She fucking knows I was lying. She was giving me that look she gives Andy when he’s done something he’s not supposed to.”
“Heh, I know the one. God, that’s hilarious. I love her mad face. Was she doing that weird lip thing, like she’s trying to suck them back into her skull?”
Steve cuts off his own laughter, “Probably– I don’t know! I was panicking, bad, you should’ve seen me.”
“Oh, I would pay so much money to see a video of this. Were there cameras? Where was this at?”
“No, no, I have to do something. I need to bring someone to the show.”
A beat. Two. “What? You want me to revive straight Robin? I can’t walk in heels to save my life, you know that.”
“Jesus, no. She knows you're gay, dude.”
“Then who?”
“I dunno.” Steve throws his hand in the air. “You know people.”
“I know people?”
“Yes?”
“You’re right, hold on, let me get out my address book and just call every single woman I know. ‘Hey, how do you feel about pretending to be my friend’s boyfriend so his ex-wife doesn’t make fun of him?’ Sound good?”
“Yes! Exactly!”
“Maybe while we’re at it we just start calling random women in the phone book. I saw a billboard with this sexy lawyer lady today.”
“Robin.”
“Steve,” she chuckles. “Come on. This is crazy. You have to see that.”
“I don’t care, Rob. You don’t get it. Nancy is dating America’s next top model and I’m,” his words feel sticky as bubblegum, “I’m watching shitty TV and eating shittier pizza by myself.”
Robin sighs. “Don’t act like I haven’t been a good wing-woman. I’ve tried to set you up with people.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m not ready to date anyone for real, I just– I just want to pretend for a night, that’s all. I don’t want Nancy to think any less of me than she already does.”
Robin sighs again, worse. He feels bad about bugging her but she’s his best friend and she bugs him to the same extent with her own relationship problems. He listened to her cry for an hour about a fight she had with Lin last week.
“If I help you… will you promise me that you will move on and go on a real, actual date with a woman who is not Nancy Wheeler?”
Steve’s about to say ‘I’ll do anything’, but the sentence catches in his throat.
Robin complains about Steve’s dating life (or lack of) about once a week, if not more. It’s been a year since the divorce, yeah, but he’s short on time with two kids and a second full-time job that affords him the first. He’s not in any rush to do awkward first dates or even worse breakups again.
But fuck, he’d rather die than face the consequences of his own actions. “Fine, yes. I’ll do it.”
“Hallelujah.”
“Please, just call a couple of your friends for me. One night, that’s all I’m asking.”
“Honestly, I definitely know a couple of people who’d do it for a hundred bucks.”
Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “If that’s what it costs to keep my dignity then so be it.”
He hears Robin’s breathy smile. “You’re so dramatic. Shelly might do it for free. She doesn’t exactly look your type though.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I dunno, Steve. We both know Nancy has a better gaydar than you.”
“I hit on one lesbian at the height of my divorce-depression. I was desperate, okay?”
“You hit on two, actually. I do count, still. And she was like the most butch woman I've ever met. You guys basically had the same outfit on.”
“It was a good outfit!”
Her laughter is loud through the speaker. And before he realizes it, he's laughing too. In retrospect, that woman very obviously was a lesbian and not at all his type.
“Wait,” Robin gasps, “what about Y/N!”
“Who?”
She repeats your name with even more emphasis. “She was at my birthday thing. You definitely met her.”
Steve describes a vague version of the person he thinks is you. His memory is hazy.
“Yes! Yes! You wouldn’t stop showing her fucking pictures of the kids.”
“Excuse me, she wanted to see them.”
“No, I think you need to ask her that again, pal.”
Steve reconsiders that moment he met you. He recalls a polite smile and how you had several nice things to say about his kids. He remembers you being pretty but it was too soon post-divorce for him to process that information then.
“Oh my God,” Robin roars, “How did I not think of this sooner? You guys are perfect for each other, I’m telling you!”
“Wait, wait, Robin. This is just pretend. I’m not actually dating her.”
She scoffs. “Will you give her a chance? Please? This can count as your real date.”
“No, absolutely not. No. I can’t– I already know her. That’s weird.”
“Oh my God. You’re making dumb fucking excuses already. You better hold up your end of the deal, Harrington.”
“I will, I will. Just not her. We’ll figure it out after, okay?”
The line is silent but he can almost hear the gears in Robin’s head cranking out a new negotiation.
“I’m serious. Don’t tell her it’s a date.”
“Ugh. Have you no faith in me anymore?”
“Will you ask her? Seriously, Robin, please?”
“Yes, whatever, I’ll ask her. But don’t come crying to me when this blows up in your face.”
“Don’t tell her it’s a date, Rob. I mean it.”
“I knowww.”
“Thank you,” he sighs. He feels like a load of bricks just dropped from his back straight to his stomach.
“But I really think you and Y/N should come to that romance retreat with me and Lin. She knows the owner so I’m sure she could snag us another couple of tickets.”
“Mmm. Sorry, no. I’m actually busy that weekend, ‘member?”
“Oh, I know you did not just lie to me right now. What is this, a compulsion?”
“Oh my God. I was kidding,” he laughs. “But also hard no. I’m hanging up.”
“You can’t avoid all your problems forever.”
“Whatever. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight. Love you, dingus.”
“Love you.”
Steve slots the phone back in its cradle and presses his hand into the countertop. He thinks of you again, your face, your clothes, your voice– what had you said to him? He turns you in his mind like an unravelled spool but there are way too many loose ends.
He agrees with Robin, this is a bad idea. He can’t imagine you’ll drop everything to help a guy you met one time. And if for whatever reason you do agree? You might be really awkward or rude to the kids or a kidnapper! He really, really hopes Robin doesn't befriend kidnappers.
She assures him you are not a kidnapper when she calls him the next night. She also tells him he’s won the lottery and somehow you’ve agreed to this ridiculous plan. You’ll pretend to be his girlfriend in front of his kids and ex-wife and her boyfriend, just to save him from some embarrassment. Steve thinks you might be crazy but Robin promises you’re a match made in heaven.
Steve jots down your phone number and thanks Robin until she hangs up on him. But he doesn’t call you yet. He chews on the plan all week and decides it still tastes bad. Very, very bad. But what choice does he have now? He’s groveled with Robin until she gave in and asked you and you’ve actually agreed. He’s in too deep now.
It takes him three tries to dial your number all the way through. He only works himself up to the final digit with the mental image of Brad and his stupid, sparkly teeth. Steve's stomach starts cartwheeling as the line trills.
“Hello?”
He freezes. He doesn’t know what he expected you to sound like but your voice throws him for a loop. Every sentence from his practiced speech erases itself from his memory.
“Helloooo?”
Steve forces all the air from his lungs until he makes a strangled sort of noise. “Hey– sorry, um– hi, it’s Steve. Uhh, Robin’s friend.”
“Oh! She said you’d call.”
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Here I am.”
You chuckle back but are otherwise quiet, waiting for him.
“So like–”
“How did–”
“Sorry,” you say overtop each other.
“You go,” he begs.
“Well, I mean– so Robin gave me the run down already, but like, how exactly do you want this to go?”
“So,” Steve takes a deep breath, “my kids are both in the school play over at Hawkins Elementary. It’s this Friday from six to seven-ish. All I need you to do is just show up and pretend that you’re my girlfriend.” He cringes through the last part. The more times he explains this plan, the more outrageous it sounds. This might as well be a form of torture.
“Just show up and watch the play and agree that we’re a couple if somebody asks? That type of thing?”
“Yes, exactly. Yes. My ex-wife and her boyfriend will be there, so probably just them and the kids.”
“Right, Robin said. But how much should I– how do I say– should I hold your hand, I guess, kiss you, things like that?”
“No, no,” he swallows so hard you probably hear it too. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
"Would you..." you pause for a while. He fears you’re backing out. “Would you want to meet up, maybe? Like, sometime before the play?” you ask. “We could talk more about boundaries and, I dunno, how we met, our first date, all of that junk. In case it comes up.”
Steve doesn’t think that’s really necessary. He only needs you for one hour, the majority of which you won’t be talking. You’re really just there to sit beside him and smile. But you are doing him a massive favor, if it makes you feel better, it wouldn’t hurt to discuss it in person.
He lets you pick the time and place and thanks you endlessly before he hangs up, very much ready to crawl into bed and never come back out.
His second impression of you doesn’t stray far from the first. You’re sweet, maybe a little too sweet for someone who barely knows him. And you must be smart. You have enough wits about you to question him and this plan. Maybe, with you there, it won’t completely fall apart.
But as luck would have it, Steve is forced to cancel on you last minute– thanks to Brad, of course. Well, it’s not really his fault his sister goes into labor but Steve likes to pretend it is when Nancy asks if he can take the kids that night. He reschedules with you once, then again when you can’t make it. But shit happens and things don’t work out how he hoped. Neither of you can make it work before the play.
So Steve pulls up to Hawkins Elementary with his heart lodged in his throat like a stone. He’s about to make the biggest fucking fool of himself if you don’t show and he’s only about forty-five percent sure that you will. As of yesterday, you were still game, sounded excited, even, to come. But maybe you forgot about the whole thing or maybe you’re chickening out because you never solidified where you had your first date. Steve wouldn’t blame you either way.
Brad’s already seated in the front row of the auditorium, Nancy likely dropping the kids off at their classrooms. Steve slinks around the back to a denser part of the audience hoping not to be seen. But it’s Brad. He’s got twenty-twenty vision, no doubt. He flags Steve down as soon as he turns around, standing and waving emphatically, leaving Steve no other choice but to sit with them.
Brad talks his ear off, to no one's surprise, but Steve’s mind is stuck somewhere else. His eyes skip between the lavish rose bouquets in Brad’s lap to the measly assortment of pink and blue daisies in his own. It’s silly to worry the kids would love him less over something like flowers, but he can’t help himself.
Nancy joins with a knowing smirk and immediately asks about Steve’s plus one. He feeds her some generic, bullshit line about you and how you’re trying so very hard to make it, and he decides Nancy must fucking hate him. She knows it was a lie. She just wants to watch him burst into flames and char into a corpse of embarrassment and regret.
There are less than two minutes to showtime. The audience is buzzing, the auditorium doors are closing, and the bench space beside Steve remains unoccupied. He turns around for one last pathetic look behind him before his dignity is tarnished forever.
But there you are! Stood up against the back wall, searching and searching until your eyes lock onto Steve’s and your whole face brightens like a sunrise.
Steve waves, a little shy suddenly, but largely overwhelmed by the complete one-eighty his heart’s just spun. And it only worsens as you make your way up to the row.
You look fucking unreal Steve realizes. You pat a pretty dress down your thighs, two big bouquets wedged in the crook of your arm, and shimmy past the family seated beside him with a dashing smile.
“Sorry I’m late,” you say to him, so genuinely apologetic Steve can’t remember the reason you’re there in the first place. You bend to wrap your arms around him, his nose tapping the sugared sweetness of your perfume.
His brain reboots itself, a blank slate. He’s completely forgotten about Nancy and Brad until you lean across his lap to address them.
“Nancy,” Steve coughs, “um, this is Y/N. My girlfriend.” The words trip off his tongue slow and he thinks it can’t be more obvious that he doesn’t mean them.
But while his head is busy imploding on itself, you’re acing introductions. You’re smiling and waving, your voice stays so calm— exactly the reassurance Steve needed. He peels his eyes off your face for a glimpse at Nancy’s and nearly laughs.
Her brows are up, obscured by her bangs, and she blinks like she’s got something caught in her mascara. Priceless.
“Y/N, this is Nancy and her boyfriend, Brad,” Steve finishes.
“Nice to meet you,” Brad smiles, squeezing Nancy’s knee until she does the same.
The pretending is clumsy at first. Steve’s arm hesitates on its course behind your shoulders. And you go stiff as a board the first time his fingertips brush your bare arm. You overcompensate, laughing at something that’s not all that funny while Steve rambles on about how you met when no one even asked. But eventually, you find a balance somewhere between too much and too little.
And Steve can’t stop fucking smiling. You’re polite, funny, really pretty, you’re perfect. You’re more than what he hoped to have tonight.
The lights dim and the curtains part, Steve’s excitement shifts toward the stage. His hand remains on your shoulder but his attention is reserved solely for his kids. You cheer for them just as loud as he does, for two children you’ve never met in your life. You remember their names and are eager for Steve to point them out when they appear. You’re a convincing girlfriend. You actually seem to care a whole lot.
Caroline is a fabulous mermaid. She has a tail made of sequins and glitter gel down her arms. All those hours of practice were worth it, Steve nearly cries watching his little girl recite her two lines to a T.
And Andrew plays a scruffy dog called Nana. He has no lines but he makes several appearances throughout the show, barking with flawless comedic timing for a kindergartener. Steve’s biased when he thinks his kids are the best actors here, of course, but he couldn’t be more proud.
Touching you doesn’t become any less strange as the evening rolls on. Your thigh is smushed to his. Your back warms the inside of his elbow. He hasn’t touched anyone like this since Nancy, maybe besides Robin who doesn’t really count. And perhaps that’s pitiful, he’s not touching you all that much. But he likes it, which, is probably even more pitiful, you being his pretend girlfriend and all.
The main cast of fifth graders bow, the crowd erupts with applause, and the lights flicker back on as the big curtains close.
Nancy is staring at you when Steve checks her way. It’s not the first time he’s caught her tonight but he still isn’t certain that she fully believes this whole thing. At least you’re here and you seem normal and you’re a much better actor than Robin gave you credit for. That’s a mission fucking accomplished in Steve’s book.
“They did really good, Steve,” you say in his ear. “They’re both adorable.”
His smile is immediate. He won’t miss an opportunity to rave about his kids, not even to a stranger. “Did you see Andy’s run? He does this little skippy-thing, I dunno where he learned it.”
“Mhmm! And Caroline, she’s only eight? She seems so much older the way she talked.”
“I know! She was so worried before, I can’t believe how good she did.”
Nancy is one of the first parents to her feet. Brad collects her purse and the flowers as she scans each exit for the quickest route. Her face is rigid as she explains, “I’m going to get Caroline if you’ll…”
“Yeah,” Steve nods when she looks.
Nancy’s eyes veer from his to yours for the briefest second before she turns around. Her chin juts up to Brad. “Ready?”
He works a hand across the cardigan on her back and starts for the end of the row where parents squeeze and squish by each other toward the hall doors.
Steve waits until their bodies bleed into the rest of the crowd before he faces you again. His lips tilt into a funny line, his eyes alive under the auditorium lights. “I kinda think that worked?”
“Are you kidding?” you laugh and knock your shoulder into his. “She kept staring at me! She totally bought it.”
Steve’s smile pinches up into his cheeks. He thinks you're really quite beautiful. It’s not new information to him, he noticed the first time he met you, bumbling up behind Robin in her kitchen. And he remembered just last week when she brought you up out of the blue.
But today that knowledge feels different. Today you’re all smiles and sweet touches and sneaky glances. It’s doing something scary to his heart.
Steve stands quickly. He’s hot all over, uncomfortably aware of the sweat accumulating under his clothes. Being sardined against every other parent in the school will do that. Plus, there’s you and your nice face. Still, somehow, he misses the heat of your thigh pressed to his.
“She’s smart, Nancy, I mean… I dunno,” he worries.
You stand too and your hand finds a home on the back of his arm. “No, no. It worked. Trust me.”
“Trust you?” He can’t help but grin at your nonchalance. He wishes he could be like that, but having kids makes you worry more.
You grin back and shrug. “Yeah, trust me.”
Well, he can’t not trust you. Not when you’re looking at him with all the confidence in the world and squeezing his arm in gentle reassurance.
His cheeks ache from smiling by the time you make it to the hall. He gestures one way and you follow him past doors and bulletin boards and as many children as there are adults. And finally, he turns through an open classroom door and it’s just absolute chaos.
A ball pops against a ceiling tile, Steve’s heel slides under a stack of notebook paper, and a string of kids fly between his hip and yours, all in one blink.
You recognize Andrew faster than Steve expects, pointing him out where he’s barking at a child sprawled on the rug. The other boy stops giggling as you approach, prompting Andrew to spin around with the crazed expression of a real puppy looking for trouble.
His costume is even cuter up close, a painted snout and a fur-onesie with a floppy-eared hood to match. Andrew barks at Steve, crawling across the carpet on all fours until he’s panting at his father’s jeans.
Steve squats down to his level, a gentle hand on either side of the boy's neck. “Oh, nooo. They didn’t turn you into a real dog, did they? Are we going to have to feed you from Daisy’s bowl now?”
Andy slurps a rope of spit back in his mouth and rolls his eyes. “I’m just pretending, Dad.”
“Ohh,” Steve laughs, pressing him impossibly closer. “You did so good, bud. Proud of you.”
“Did you see me? When I barked at the pirates?”
“I did! I actually thought it was a real dog.”
Andrew cackles once, throwing his head down on Steve’s shoulder.
Steve pats his fuzzy back. “Tired?”
He blinks up at you curiously and shakes his head.
“Andy,” Steve cranes toward you, “this is my friend, Y/N. Can you say hi?”
He lifts his head and barks, high-pitched and snappy as a chihuahua.
Steve tilts his ear away and pinches Andy’s side until the barking turns to giggles. “In English, please.”
“Hi, Y/N,” Andy squeals out between the remainder of his laughter.
“Hi, buddy.” You kneel beside Steve and fawn, “You did such a good job!”
Andy pokes his tongue through the gap in his smile. He looks you over entirely and bats his long lashes like a paper fan.
“I got these for you,” you say, tipping the colorful blooms toward his face. “This one’s for your sister. Here.”
He chokes the plastic-wrapped stems in his tiny fist, half his face hidden behind a rainbow of petals.
“Here, bud,” Steve takes one of his bouquets from the floor and tucks it in with yours, “this one’s from me.”
Andy can’t see much of anything with his nose pressed to a daffodil but he loves them all the same. You pick yourself off the floor, your laughter spilling like the sun.
“Let’s go find your sister,” Steve says, a hand braced on Andy’s shoulder as he stands too.
Andy looks between you and Steve in amazement. “She was a mermaid. Did you see?”
“We did,” Steve answers. “She was a great mermaid, don’t you think?”
“Yes. She was all sparkly.” Andy slips his small hand into Steve’s, then automatically offers you his other.
You find Nancy, Brad, and Caroline outside the school near the parent pickup circle. Brad’s got Caroline’s hand in his, her feet tracing the edge of the sidewalk like a balance beam.
She jumps off the curb when she spots Steve, tripping over her toes before breaking into a sprint for his arms.
Steve kneels right there on the asphalt. “Hi, baby,” he laughs. She sets her elbows on his shoulders as he kisses her on each cheek. “Did such a good job up there!”
“Did you see me!” she yells. “I wasn’t even scared! I didn’t forget my words like I thought I would.”
Steve thumbs the corner of her crinkled eye where eyeshadow glares silver under the moon. “I know! My big girl. I’m so proud. Know that?”
She giggles, her fingers scrunching around the cellophane wrapping in his hand. “Are these for me?”
“They are. For my best little lady.”
She sticks her smile in the bouquet and sniffs.
Steve is oblivious to the heart-warmed grin on your face. But you watch the scene unfold, feeling an unexpected fondness for a family that isn’t yours. You’re only a guest in their little world, an outsider looking in— but even from here, it’s undeniable. He’s a great dad.
“Hey, I have someone I want you to meet,” Steve says.
You’re so enraptured by the moment, you completely forget that’s your cue. Steve beckons you over with features that echo Carolines, not just in emotion but in shape too. They’re cheek-to-cheek looking at you like a pair of very happy identical twins.
“Hi, Caroline,” you wave and offer the same hand to shake.
She smiles big and wraps her smaller fingers around yours. “You came to see our show?”
“I did! You were a really amazing mermaid, you know? I especially liked the dance with the sea stars.”
She shrinks away, suddenly sheepish as she thanks you.
“Oh, here,” you shift the bouquet in your arms toward her, “before I forget, these are for you.”
“Another! Oh my gosh!” Her beaded hair-tie clinks as she pivots. “Mom! Look! I have three flowers now!” She takes the bouquet at the base and books it toward Nancy who’s engrossed in a conversation with Brad. “Can I keep them in my room, please? And can we get some more vases tonight? I’ll water them, I promise, Mommy.”
You have a fondness for his kids Steve doesn’t often see in the eyes of strangers. They're quite rambunctious a lot of the time and while the elderly compliment him and his genes occasionally, this is different. Affection softens every line of your expression and there’s joy stitched in each sweep of your lashes. It’s endearing as it is strange because ultimately you are still very much a stranger.
Steve trusts Robin’s judgment more than his own sometimes. If love for his kids were a race, she’d take a very close second against him. She takes her duties as an aunt very seriously and so he’s confident you’re as great as she says. But still, he doesn’t know you personally. He can’t know your intentions for certain. And he might feel guiltier about that in the context of introducing you to his kids— if you weren’t so undeniably wonderful.
You idle beside Steve, a short distance from the rest of the crew. He places his hand on the small of your back and you exchange quiet smiles.
It’s mostly for show. He feels the weight of Nancy’s gaze in his peripherals. But an ounce or two of Steve is motivated purely by his own self-interest.
He misses these simple acts of affection. Tracing the veins in someone else’s palm, kissing their eyelids, counting their lashes. It’s human nature, a need, he supposes. A need he’s been trying to convince himself is much more of a want.
And you’re so very gentle with him. It’s really driving him mad.
Nancy must tell the kids it’s time to go because they’re scrambling over in a cacophony of goodbyes. Steve gives them each a big squeeze and a little shake for the road. Caroline hugs you like you’re no different than the rest of them, while Andy, ever the little charmer, asks your name for the third time. They disappear behind the first row of cars, their voices carry far but fade into all the rest.
When Steve turns, he finds you already looking at him.
“They’re really great,” your smile worsens and Steve’s stomach capsizes, “your kids. You should be proud.”
The joy is contagious, infecting Steve with the same toothy smile, spreading through every cell in his body straight down to his jumping heart. “I am,” he manages.
“God,” you shake your head at the stars, “I can’t believe that actually worked.”
Steve closes his eyes and exhales a rough laugh. “You’re telling me.”
“Did I make you uncomfortable at all? I didn’t want to do too much.”
“No,” Steve promises. “No, no, it was perfect. You did great. Thank you.”
You throw your hand up in dismissal. “Don’t. That was… weirdly fun.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you chuckle, “is that fucked up?”
“Not any more than me asking you to do this,” he snorts.
“How long exactly do you plan to do this for? I could probably do most evenings but mornings are trickier with work.”
Steve blinks unceremoniously. “Oh, I– well, I was just gonna tell her it didn’t work out, actually.”
“Really?”
He struggles to understand your squinting. He didn’t expect you to question this part. “Yeah?”
“You want it to be believable, don’t you?”
“Well, yeah–”
“Then you have to sell it, Steve. Give it a little buildup, some emotion. It would be so obvious if you ended it now.”
He searches your face, not sure what he’s hoping to find. But there’s at least some level of authenticity there. “You’d want to? To keep going?”
“Like I said,” you frown, “weirdly fun.”
He hums. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Okay.”
“I say we make a few more appearances, you know, as a happy couple. Then, we stage the breakup.”
“What, in front of her?”
“No, not necessarily. But we plant the seeds. We aren’t as affectionate, we get a little worked up over something stupid. I don’t know. Just enough to make her catch on that things aren’t all that good. That’s believable.”
Steve stares at you for a long minute before his smile turns a sinister shade. “You’re crazy, aren’t you?”
You huff but there’s no heat behind it. You’re grinning too. “I thought you had more manners than that, Steve.”
“Yeah, well, if it's any consolation, I also think you’re a fuckin’ genius.”
“You’ve been a nice boyfriend, so, I’ll let it slide.”
He rolls his eyes like a kid. He likes talking to you but he isn’t sure what else to say.
“So, see you next time then?”
“Yeah,” he nods, “yeah, I’ll call you. Thank you.”
“‘Kay. See ya.”
There’s a beat before you go, a split-second where Steve could hug you, kiss your cheek, touch your arm. He’s not exactly sure what the protocol is for this type of situation, though. He makes the executive decision not to subject you to any more PDA lest you get the wrong idea about him. But the way you’ve got this all planned out, he’s not so worried anymore.
“Bye,” he waves.
You walk the same path Nancy and his kids had, the back of your head slipping behind the bed of a truck. There’s something about you. Something fun, something that makes him feel alive again. And a fake relationship isn’t really harming anyone if you’re both enjoying yourselves. So why the hell not?
fue por vos angelito, por vos este equipo es campeón, somos bicampeones de América por vos, gracias y miles de gracias porque un Dios siempre tiene su Ángel al lado💗
