Chapter Text
Simon
Seven days in Jamaica. An unforgettable honeymoon. A chance of a lifetime.
When put that way it sounds easy. Baz and I will eat and drink and dance and swim. We’ll have fun. We can enjoy ourselves without having to act like a couple because it’s not like his family will be around.
It’s so simple.
That’s what I’ve been telling myself anyway.
Walking down the aisle, surrounded by Baz’s friends and family was easy. Vowing to love him forever wasn’t quite as easy, but it wasn’t technically legally binding either, so they were just words. Taking wedding photos after the ceremony was…interesting. It wasn’t easy or hard. Good or bad.
It was just…. It was like playing a part. The starring role in a movie, where I’m in love with someone and ready to spend the rest of my life with him.
Playing that part was surprisingly easy because three months ago, I was that guy.
I was so enamored by a guy that was ready to marry him. I was ready to settle down and plan the rest of my life with him.
But he had other plans.
He wanted something a little more casual with a couple he’d met a few months before. The same couple he had apparently been meeting up with every weekend when he told me he was visiting his mom.
That’s what I think made today so hard for me.
This could have been real. I could have easily been marrying a guy who I truly loved. Instead, I was pretending to marry a guy that I could barely stand to be around when we were in school.
Admittedly, Baz has changed. And it’s not like it’s his fault that I just had my heart broken when he came crashing back into my life. Literally. He hit me with his grocery cart. Though, he’ll try to say it’s my fault for being in the way.
I was probably a little distracted at the time, having just gone through a break up. I was sulking around the store with my break up playlist blasting in my ears, looking for something to distract me from my ex. Chocolate and ice cream just weren’t cutting it for me anymore.
I was just about to round the corner of the aisle when Baz came out of nowhere and rammed his cart into me.
“Watch where you’re going!” We said at the time, and I had just pushed my headphones off my ears so that I could give whoever it was a piece of mind when I looked up and saw Baz. We were both stunned at first, neither of us saying anything for a moment.
Then, a sneer so familiar that it made my heart ache appeared on his face. “You’re the one who should watch where you’re going.”
“What? How? You ran into me.”
“You were the one who was walking down the middle of the aisle. Maybe if you picked a side, I wouldn’t have hit you.”
We argued like that for a while until a strange expression crossed his face, and that’s when he asked me to be his boyfriend. (Fake boyfriend.)
He has actually been pretty decent these past few months. Which is probably only because he’s paying me to be his fake fiancé – or rather, husband, as of a few hours ago – but it’s nice to see this other side of Baz. The one that cares about people and wants to make his family happy. (Even if he is spinning a huge lie in order to do so.)
Anyway, Baz seems different now, and this is my chance to start all over. Plus, it’s a free vacation!
Now I just have to get through this week. And then the next year. But after that, I will have enough money to start over – and will hopefully be able to find someone who cares about me as much as I do them.
***
The plane ride on the way to my honeymoon probably isn’t the best time to be rethinking my marriage, yet here I am, thousands of miles in the air wondering if this was all a huge mistake.
Should I really have married Baz?
I know it wasn’t real, but we barely know each other. Yes, we went to school together. And yes, we shared a room for years. But it’s not like we were friends. Quite the opposite actually. We were fighting almost all of the time, and while Baz is different now, that part hasn’t changed too much.
What could have possibly possessed us to make us think that things would be different now that we’re adults? How are we going to fool people into thinking that we’re a couple when we can barely get along beyond planning what our fake relationship will look like?
Baz seems to have it all figured out, but that doesn’t stop me wondering if I just jumped from one bad relationship to another.
And of course, it doesn’t matter if this fake relationship is a bad one, so long as it fools his family. I just can’t help feeling like I should be out there having fun, meeting hot guys in bars and making stupid mistakes, not making one huge mistake that I won’t be able to get out of for a year.
Baz seems to sense how nervous I am about everything because he decides to quit pretending like he’s asleep so that he can say, “Stop freaking out.”
“I wasn’t,” I lie, curling my hand into a fist in order to stop my fingers from drumming against my leg, which I didn’t even realize they were doing.
“I can practically feel the nerves rolling off you. It’s going to be okay. It wasn’t real, remember?”
I do remember but remembering doesn’t help. Why am I pretending to be married to guy that I don’t even like as a friend? I know that I desperately need the money, but I’m beginning to question if this was the best way to get it.
Maybe I’m worrying too much. This is all just so new.
Before today, I had never even been on a plane, and I definitely never expected my first time to be a ten-hour trip on the way to my honeymoon with a guy I used to hate.
It’s going to take some time to get used to, and I think this was the first time that I got the chance to really stop and think about what we’re doing.
It all just happened so fast. Who knew that my life would change so much in only three months?
This relationship has been a rollercoaster ride from the moment it started. One of those rollercoasters with all of the loops and huge drops and that is going way faster than you thought it would. The whole thing has been unexpected with constant, quick changes. Before I could get used to one aspect of it, something else would happen and throw me for another loop.
Dating changed to engaged and then to married so fast that I never really got the chance to think it through.
And I’m not saying that if I had that I wouldn’t be here right now. I just…. Well, I’m not really sure.
I slide my headphones back on and hit play on the playlist I was listening to. Over the past few months, my breakup playlist morphed into something a little different. It became a playlist that I put on whenever I’m stressed about Baz or need to think. Now, it makes me smile anytime I hear it instead of sad and angry.
I wasn’t even looking for a new relationship when all of this began. I was just lonely and desperate because my boyfriend of two years had just kicked me so that he could be with other people, and I was at a really low point. Which is obviously the worst possible time to be making big, life-altering decisions. But after losing my job and my boyfriend and being practically homeless, it wasn’t even a question for me when Baz asked if I would be his boyfriend. He was offering me a chance at something better, a chance to start over, and there was no way that I could resist, so I just kept saying yes to everything that he asked of me.
It won’t be too bad. I can do this. One step at a time.
A week. That’s it. I can do this.
We could spend the whole week in our suite, and no one would suspect a thing.
I just have to stop freaking out like Baz said.
***
By the time we’re talking to the concierge at the hotel check-in desk, I’ve pretty much managed to calm down about everything. I think that this next week could be fun. It will be a great opportunity for me to get away from everything that happened and hopefully find a way to move on.
I tune into the conversation that Baz is having with the concierge in time to hear her direct us towards a man in a very nice suit who is carrying a clipboard and looking very important.
“He will be your personal butler for the duration of your stay. If you need anything at all, let him know.”
Butler? I want to ask Baz, but I don’t get the chance because he's already leading us over to the man. I had no idea that there would be a butler with us on our honeymoon. Does that mean he’ll be waiting on us hand and foot every day? This could either be really fun or really weird.
“Good afternoon, sirs,” The man – Arlington Chafter, his name tag says – before he begins a whole spiel about that resort and the amenities that is obviously very rehearsed as he shows us around and leads us up to our room. “My number is at the top of this paper if you need anything at all,” he says once we're stood in front of the door to our room. “Anytime of day. And here is a printed version of your itinerary for the week.
“Thank you,” Baz says, nodding politely, “but we won’t be needing that. We're really just here to relax and enjoy ourselves and sort of see where the week takes us. We will not be in need of a schedule.
The man frowns slightly, his brows wrinkling. “I am very sorry, sir, but someone called ahead and insisted that every minute of your stay here be planned with ‘fun, romantic activities’” – I can practically hear the quotation marks in his voice – “so that none of your time here will be wasted.”
“There must be some kind of mistake. Neither of us made that call. I think you might have the wrong couple.
He shakes his head. “I am certain that I do not. The woman’s instructions were very clear, and she paid quite a bit for this added service. I believe her name is Fiona if that helps clear anything up.”
I can see the way Baz’s jaw clenches; it’s the smallest movement that probably would have gone unnoticed by anyone else, but I can see the tension and anger that fills his body like a poison that he can expel with just a few harsh words. I know that this will not end well if I don’t step in. I take a step forward, placing my hand lightly on his back in what I hope is a calming gesture.
“It’s alright. It might be fun,” I murmur, just loud enough to be overheard but in an attempt to keep Baz from starting a fight and ruining our honeymoon. Don’t ask me why I care so much about a fake honeymoon that I can barely tolerate; I’m not even sure I can explain it to myself. I think I just don’t want this to be over before it's even really begun.
For Baz’s sake, I mean. I know how important this is to him.
I half expect him to turn and sneer at me, but he just smiles agreeably at our butler for the week as he takes the multi-page itinerary and the keys to our room from him. He doesn’t say another word until we're closed in our room.
“I am going to kill Fiona when we get home,” Baz growls, and my heart does the strangest flip at the words “we” and “home.”
I’m not even sure what home will be like for the two of us when we leave here. Will we move into Baz’s flat? Will we get a place of our own? Why haven’t we discussed this yet? It all happened so fast – the engagement, the wedding, and now the honeymoon. There wasn’t a whole lot of time to talk.
Three months from start to finish. That’s not even enough time to properly get to know someone. How are we married?
I feel myself beginning to panic and take a deep breath. (Damn. Just when I was starting to feel okay about all of this.) I need to focus on something else.
Baz looks like he had been about to say something, probably a not-so-kind remark about Fiona or the butler or both, but when he sees the expression on my face, his own softens.
He takes a step towards me, his hand lifting as if to touch me before changing course to push a strand of hair out of his face instead.
“Are you having second thoughts?” He asks, half joking, half concerned.
I force a small smile and shake my head. “No. S’just a lot.”
He nods. “I know, but after this, hopefully my family will leave us alone. They won’t have any reason to interfere, believing that we’re well and truly married. We'll get through this year, and everything will be fine.” He sounds so sure that I actually start to believe him, relaxing a little. “Let’s just have some fun and enjoy ourselves. At my aunt’s expense,” he adds with a wicked grin.
***
Baz seems to have meant it when he said he was going to make his aunt pay. He hands me the room service menu, which reads almost like a book, and tells me to order whatever I want. Then he orders a bunch of other things that we'll never be able to finish.
His aunt’s wedding gift to us was to pay for our entire honeymoon so long as she got to choose the destination. It seemed nice enough, but now Baz seems to be convinced that it's all part of some big plan she has to out us as a fake couple. Which is kind of funny because I used to accuse him of plotting against me. For once we're on the same side. It’s kind of nice. Or it would be if he would stop pacing and ranting and come sit and eat.
I forgot that pacing is something he does when he gets stressed, like he’s trying to walk it off. It’s kind of cute.
Which I can say because if someone were to ask me what I like about Baz, I would need an answer. Plus, I can find him cute without actually liking him. And I’m not blind. I know he’s hot. Objectively.
I turn my attention back to all the food that we spread out across the table and floor in the lounge area, which is to be my bedroom later this evening. Baz and I agreed to take turns sleeping in the bed so as to avoid any awkward situations that may arise if we were to share the sole bed in the room. Baz paid me a little extra for the first night.
He keeps doing little things like that, throwing extra money into the account that he set up for me, more than the initially agreed upon amount. I’m not sure why he’s doing it, but I can imagine. I must have seemed pretty pathetic when we ran into each other at the grocery store.
Baz finally sits down across from me on the floor, and we spend the next half an hour trying to make a dent in all this food before we’re both too full to continue.
We start to clean up, and as I look around the room, our next problem arises. It seems to be one hit after another today.
I guess we didn’t really get a good look around when we first entered the room, between the butler’s itinerary, the food, and Baz’s ranting, we never stopped to look around and really take in the room. Or more specifically, the bathroom.
The room is the most open-concept space I've ever seen. The door leads right into the lounging area, then the bedroom area, then out onto the terrace. It flows so easily that we passed right by the bathroom with barely a glance in that direction, which is also open concept, in a way that I didn’t think existed.
The shower walls, for example, are made completely of clear glass, which by itself would be perfectly fine, but it’s a mere three feet from the bed, with nothing dividing the space. No walls, no partitions.
Anyone lying tin the bed, or really sitting anywhere in the room will have a perfectly clear view right into the shower. Apparently whoever designed this suite didn’t have people who were only pretending to be married in mind.
This is going to make for a really interesting week.