She’s been a part of my life since I was six.
I remember playing in a sand pit at my neighborhood park. The sand was wet, courtesy of the rain the day before, so it was perfect for building sturdy sand castles. I didn’t have to worry about sharing the space since the park happened to be empty. The whole sandbox was my metaphorical oyster. My mom was on a nearby bench, reading her book, and my older sister and brother were playing on the swings.
I was used to playing by myself growing up. Don't get me wrong! I actually enjoyed being by myself most of the time. I was more of the read-comic-books-alone-at-home type. Plus, I had a huge imagination, so I could entertain myself in a doorless, windowless, toyless room for hours on end.
I had just begun digging a moat for the sand castle (my best one ever, in my humble opinion) when a girl about my age appeared in front of me with her hands clasped behind her back. “I really like your sand castle,” she had said, a sweet, close-mouthed grin pushing up rosy cheeks.
The girl looked way too clean for a kid, especially one playing at a muddy old park. Her black hair was glossy without a single strand out of place and tied up neatly, topped with a blush pink bow. The sparkly dress she wore was the same color, and so were the flats that adorned her feet. She reminded me a little of my sister when we took our family photos last year.
I frowned a little, then shrugged before continuing to dig. “Isth ok, I guess.” You see, I had just lost not one, but both of my front teeth, so I talked with a slight lisp.
Barely a moment passed when the girl plopped down right next to me, getting sand all over her dress. I stared at her wide-eyed, and her dark brown eyes stared right back at me with a grin, now showing off her missing two front teeth.
“My name is Haena! Can I play wif you?” I was confused as to why such a princess-ey-looking girl wanted to play in the dirty sand. All my sister wanted to do was play with her Barbies, nowhere near dirt. But I was a pretty chill kid, so I shrugged my scrawny shoulders again and replied, “Sure. My name is Joshua.”
We played for what seemed like forever in that sandbox. At one point, I noticed an equally polished-looking man in a suit speaking to my mom on the bench. Haena told me that that was her “assistant, Marcus.” I didn't know what that meant at the time. Neither of us knew what it meant that Haena was an heiress, either, but it was apparently very important.
After that day at the park, my mom organized play dates with Haena through Marcus, and she soon became my best friend. For the most part, I went over to her extremely large house, where she had a giant chandelier in the foyer that I was scared to walk under for the first couple of visits. I met her mom and dad, who both smelled and dressed a lot fancier than my mom and dad.
Haena Kang was the heiress to the multibillion-dollar fashion conglomerate, KROWN. They weren't clothes that my family could afford at all, but people who were famous and extremely wealthy could wear them once and throw them away. Of course, our five and six-year-old minds didn't really understand just how important that was, nor did we really care. All we cared about was playing and doing things that best friends did together.
Nineteen years passed (yes, nineteen), and our friendship never faltered. We both watched each other go through different phases (including my secret crush on her when I was 15, but we don’t need to talk about that). We had fights, of course—never anything too serious, but they still happened. They typically always ended with me going to reconcile almost immediately after, but Haena beat me to it with a phone call, wailing and crying about how much she missed me already. She was secretly very sensitive.
As I grew older, I began to have this nagging feeling that Haena’s parents didn't approve of our friendship. Less of a feeling, more of a knowing. Between scoffs at my casual, cheap fashion and upturned noses when I walked in the room, it wasn't hard to take the hint. After all, she was extremely rich and important. I was just….Joshua Thomas. Normal, not rich JoshuaThomas.
Haena, of course, knew of my anxieties and was always quick to reassure me. “Joshua, we've been best friends since we were kids. Do you really think that I care if my parents don't like you? I like you, and that's all that matters!”
I was now 25, and Haena was soon to be turning 24. I’ve since moved out of my family's apartment and into my own shortly after college, where I had earned an English degree and an “impressive” application that got me a job as an assistant at a small publishing firm.
Haena had also moved out, but into an expensive penthouse. The major difference was that I made just enough for rent and the bills, while Haena’s penthouse was covered by her parents. She tried to beg for something smaller (and further away), but “the heir to a multibillion-dollar business isn’t going to live in a hovel”, so that was the end of that argument.
Instead, she became my non-roommate roommate. Weekends, I wasn’t caught up with overtime work, nor Haena with a photoshoot or party, so we spent time on my couch with a popcorn bucket, fast food, and whatever shows we were feeling that day.
That's where I was today, sitting in my tiny LA apartment with Haena, watching the first episode of a new slice-of-life anime on Netflix. My head was in Haena’s lap, fingers absentmindedly playing with my freshly washed hair as my abnormally long legs hung over the other arm of the tiny two-seater. A perfectly normal way for best friends to hang out.
Her ministrations suddenly paused. “Hey, Josh?”
I looked up and saw Haena’s glowing colors flickering across her features, her eyes still glued to the TV screen. “What's up?”
She finally looked down at me and, when she saw my eyes on her, a small grin grew on her face.
“My cousin is getting married and I'm in the wedding party, so I need a date. You wanna pretend to be my boyfriend?”
I would attempt to mask the shock, but that one came from completely out of left field. My eyes grew wide and I shot up from Haena’s lap, just narrowly missing colliding with her chin. “I-I’m sorry. What?”
She rolled her eyes. “Why are you so surprised? It’s not like we haven’t gone to a wedding as partners before. Do you not remember Sooah’s wedding?”
“Haena, we didn’t pretend to be boyfriend and girlfriend at my sister’s wedding!”
“Jesus, Joshua. You’re acting like it’s going to be real.”
“-And another thing: That was a regular run-of-the-mill wedding. It’s like you’re asking me to attend the Met Gala.”
She blew out a humorless laugh, then finally paused the show (don’t ask me what the plot is). “Dude, you’re blowing this a little out of proportion. It’s just a wedding.”
I stared at her incredulously. Honestly, I was used to shocking things coming from her mouth. This was the girl who stood on the stage at a corporate event and aired out reputation-ruining lies about her ex, who was in the room. She was truly filterless, but this? This sounded like it might be the most insane scheme she’s ever dragged me into.
I suddenly remembered something that left a bad taste in my mouth. “Wait a minute. What about Jeran? Don't you want your actual boyfriend to be your date?”
Haena wrinkled her nose in absolute disgust and looked down at her perfectly pedicured toes, wiggling them a little. “I dumped him yesterday,” she muttered. Despite the situation, this lifted my mood tremendously, and I couldn’t help the smile that grew on my face.
Jeran was the biggest tool I had ever seen. Definitely the worst boyfriend Haena had ever had, and there had been plenty of bad boyfriends. Not a single good one, if you ask me. I never had the pleasure of actually meeting him, but I heard enough about him through daily texts and phone calls where Haena just vented her frustrations about his latest shenanigans. Her boyfriend (well, ex-boyfriend) was notorious for drinking at parties to the point bad things happened. Once, he got into [REDACTED]. What’s even worse was he somehow always managed to charm the hell out of her parents.
“Oh no! Not Jeran! Your parents are going to be devastated, Haena-ie,” I faked concern. She met my eyes once more, a laugh bubbling out of her.
“They’ll live. Or maybe they won’t, and this will be the thing that finally gets me written off the inheritance.”
We laughed a little, then stopped and looked at each other in comfortable silence. Her eyes suddenly averted, then she said, “Speaking of them…My parents aren’t going to be at the wedding! So the fake boyfriend thing will be convincing.”
I rubbed my face and sighed loudly in exasperation. “Haena...”
She cut me off with fervor. “No, listen! I have to have a date. You know how these people are! I can’t show up single. What am I gonna do? Sit by the French champagne fountain by myself and drink myself into inebriation? Like a loser?”
I tried to ignore how baffled I was at the “French champagne fountain” part, and instead shot back, “Yes! That’s what normal single people do at a wedding! Besides, Haena, what happens when paparazzi blast our faces all over tabloids? How are you going to explain the nobody holding your hand?”
She grinned. “No paps allowed, as per everyone’s request.”
She shifted her position so that she was sitting on her heels, our knees now touching. I got a whiff of her expensive shampoo – jasmine and oranges. A smell I loved so much.
“First of all,” she points at me in admonishment, “You aren’t a nobody-”
“And that’s easy. We just get you a nice suit, give you a little makeover, and come up with some bullshit lie about how you’re some prince from a foreign country or something.” There was a fire in her eyes, one that gave me a sneaking suspicion that I wasn’t going to win this argument. This was absolutely absurd, and I was right: this is the craziest plan she’s ever roped me into. But… She was so close, and she was giving me that begging puppy look I have a track record of never saying no to.
After a couple of moments of silence, I let out a long sigh, and she jumped off the couch with a cheer. Oh, God. I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?
“When is the wedding?” I asked once Haena had ceased her little victory dance around my coffee table. She clapped her hands together and turned to me, her wide grin plastered to her face.
“November 30th. Two months from now.”
“You’re fucking cooked, man,” my friend’s tinny voice came through my phone speaker.
“Gabe! That doesn’t help,” I shouted, exasperated.
“Hey. I have to keep it real. What? You’re supposed to turn into this perfect, rich ‘boyfriend’ in less than two months? Why’d you even agree to this?”
As much as I hated to agree with Gabe, I had to. Cinderella is nothing but a fairytale, but I’m having to make it my reality somehow. And I know exactly why I agreed: because I’m a sap. Also, an idiot.
“She was persistent! Besides,” I dropped dramatically onto my couch, a loud creak emitting from the secondhand piece. “I can’t back out now…She’ll be devastated.”
A scoff was heard from the other end. “You’re double-cooked.” A pause. “Also, the second cooking is the fact you’re whipped and in denial about your feelings.”
“Wha- Gabe, no! I’m not! It’s not like that,” I sputtered.
An image of Haena popped into my head. Her smile when I agreed to go along with this plan, the sparkle in her eyes as she rambled off her ideas for my “makeover”. I felt my face begin to heat up. “She’s just really convincing! It’s always been this way. I’m also a people-pleaser! Also! Also- We've been friends forever. I just really care about her, like a sister!”
“Uh-huh…You’re shouting and talking fast. Why are you so defensive?” I could hear computer keys rapidly clicking, followed by Gabe cursing under his breath.
“Are you playing League?” I received an answer in the form of the telltale victory sound and Gabe cheering loudly. He was definitely going to get another noise complaint from his neighbors.
“Yeah, I’m hanging up.” I cut the call before tossing my phone on the coffee table and lying across the couch fully, letting out a long groan. Why do I even call him for advice?
Truthfully, I wasn’t mad at Gabe. That much was obvious. Though he’s typically annoying, the anger was misplaced because I couldn’t be mad at Haena. It wasn't anyone's fault but my own. It still didn't change the fact that I was utterly screwed and there was nothing I could do to get out of this.
I tried to distract myself from my imminent doom. Playing Valorant just pissed me off more, especially when the people I was teamed with had to have just started playing that day. Reading the new chapter of Dandadan (pirated online, of course) kept me busy enough. This chapter seemed shorter, however, so I was just alone with my stress again after five minutes. I tried doing my neglected laundry next, but when one of Haena's expensive-looking t-shirts tumbled out of the warm pile of clothes in my arms, I just about lost it.
I needed some fresh air. Desperately.
When I stepped out of my apartment building, aggressive honking and the stench of the city filled my ears and nostrils. It was bright, the sun hitting my skin and warming me instantly. I slid my sunglasses on and stuffed my hands in the pockets of my sweats before setting off on the busy sidewalk.
Today was a Thursday, a day I'd normally be at work. My coworker begged me at the beginning of the week to give him my shift. Something about needing extra money for some new Nikes he wanted. I certainly wasn't going to say no. I'd have an extra day to laze about. But no. I was spending my day off stressed out of my mind.
As I made my way down the sidewalk to who-knows-where, the what-ifs just kept coming. What if we get caught? What if photos get leaked? What if her ex shows up and kicks my ass?
That last one, I’ll admit, was just ridiculous. I was an idiot. No, this whole thing was idiotic! Maybe Gabe was right. I really was whipped. But it’s always been this way.
Not like that! I just really…care about her. That was all. I care about all of my friends and would thus do anything for them.
I was yanked out of my inner turmoil by my phone vibration against my leg. When I managed to fish it out of my pocket, I groaned out loud. Speak of the fucking devil.
“Hey, Joshie,” Haena's voice drawled. I cleared my throat before responding with a (not) smooth, “Hey, what's up?”
“Oh, nothing…I just wanted to talk to you! I missed you!”
I ignored the way my heart clenched. She sounded very suspicious. “Sure…Haena, you’re doing that thing with your voice you do when you're lying. What's happening?”
I could hear a loud, dramatic sigh on the other end, and I couldn't help the small smile that twitched its way on my face. “I hate when you do that. Can't you be unobservant? Like most men?”
“Sorry. I'm not like other men.” I bit back a laugh when I heard her fake gag.
“Don't ever say that again. ‘I'm not like other men.’ Shut the hell up, Joshua.”
I tried to speak, but Haena went into a breathless ramble, another tell-tale sign she was hiding something. “Also, I did miss you! It's been like a week since we talked. I've been so-”
“Haena. Stop avoiding. Other than the fact that you ‘missed’ me, what's the real reason you called?”
There was a long stretch of silence. I almost thought the call had dropped, but then I heard a long sigh. She begins to mutter something, but her voice is drowned out by the sound of a jackhammer. I had apparently stumbled upon a block corner that was being repaired without noticing until now.
“I'm sorry. Can you repeat that? I couldn't hear you.” I plug my other ear with my finger, then quicken my pace, trying to get away from the construction.
“...I said…My cousin is inviting paparazzi to the wedding.”
I stopped dead in my tracks. A man shoved past me, cussing me out as he went, but I barely noticed him. I didn't even know what to say. I just stood there, in the middle of that sidewalk, frozen.
“Joshua…Please say something.”
“I…Don't even know what to say right now. Honestly.”
She burst into action, rushing to attempt to reassure me. “It's only for the reception! And the photographers are going to be more focused on my cousin and her fiancé, anyway! We can just avoid them!”
“What happened to ‘no paps allowed’? Haena, do you realize how bad this is? I can't do this!” I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to calm myself down. Jesus, it was always something with her!
“I know, Joshua. I'm really sorry.” I faintly heard someone call out to Haena on the other end, but she was quick to dismiss them. It was now that I remembered she had a photoshoot for some makeup company scheduled for today. That must be where she was now.
“Let's just…talk about this later. Get back to your shoot.”
“But, Joshua…” Her voice sounded so small. I know she felt bad. I know she did. It made it so much harder to even be mad at her. So I just sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, attempting to collect myself.
“Listen. Go finish your photoshoot, and we can talk about this later. I promise,” I managed to reply in a calm, reassuring tone.
“Alright…” She still sounded hesitant, but she knew not to push. “I'll talk to you later. Have a good day off, Joshua.”
The call disconnected, and I was left staring at the giant CHANEL billboard with Haena’s face, wondering how I always get myself into these predicaments.
