Chapter 4: Playing the Part

Chapter 4: Playing the Part

Jake leaned against the counter of his coffee shop, his fingers drumming restlessly against the polished wood. It was early morning, yet the usual comforting aroma of freshly brewed espresso and warm pastries did little to soothe his nerves. Outside, the press was swarming like vultures, cameras flashing as soon as any movement was detected inside. A few brave customers had attempted to slip through the chaos, but most turned away, unwilling to deal with the circus outside. The sudden media attention was overwhelming, and Jake couldn’t shake the feeling that his once simple life had taken a sharp, irreversible turn.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his already-messy hair. "What the hell did I get myself into?"

The door jingled, and in walked Sophie, wearing oversized sunglasses and a baseball cap pulled low over her face. She removed them the second she was inside, scanning the shop before making a beeline for him. Her expression was unreadable, but Jake could sense the tension radiating off her.

“Morning, fake boyfriend,” she muttered, sliding into the seat across from him.

Jake shot her a look. “This isn’t funny.”

“Tell that to the reporters outside,” she said, gesturing toward the window where cameras were angled in their direction. "They’re dying for a shot of us together."

Jake exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Remind me why we’re doing this again?"

Sophie pulled out her phone, scrolling through an endless feed of articles and gossip headlines. She turned the screen toward him.

JAKE MATTHEWS: HOLLYWOOD’S NEW HEARTTHROB?

SOPHIE CARTER’S MYSTERIOUS ROMANCE – WHAT WE KNOW SO FAR!

FANS IN A FRENZY OVER SOPHIE’S NEW BOYFRIEND – WHO IS HE?

Jake groaned. “This is ridiculous. I make lattes for a living. I am not Hollywood material.”

Sophie shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Right now, you’re playing a role. And trust me, it’s better if we control the narrative.”

He shot her a skeptical look. “And by ‘we,’ you mean your PR team?”

She sighed. “Look, if we deny everything, they’ll just spin another story. Maybe one where you’re a secret playboy, or worse, some nobody trying to use me for fame.”

Jake frowned. “That’s not who I am.”

“I know that,” Sophie said quickly. “But they don’t care about the truth. They care about selling a story. So, we have to give them one.”

Jake leaned back, arms crossed. “And what exactly does this story entail?”

Sophie hesitated before answering. “A couple of public outings, a few dates in places where we know we’ll be seen. Hand-holding, smiling—basic couple stuff. Nothing over the top.”

Jake let out a dry laugh. “Great. Just what I always wanted—to fake-date a celebrity.”

She gave him an apologetic look. “I know this isn’t fair to you. But I swear, once the media gets bored, they’ll move on. A month, tops.”

He studied her for a moment, noting the exhaustion in her eyes. She wasn’t just worried about her career—she was trying to protect him from getting torn apart by the tabloids. As frustrating as this was, she wasn’t the villain here.

“Fine,” he relented. “But let’s get one thing straight—no lying beyond what’s necessary. If they ask personal questions, I’m not making up some elaborate backstory.”

Sophie nodded. “Agreed. Keep it simple, keep it believable.”

Jake sighed. “Alright, then. When’s our first ‘date’?”

Sophie checked her phone. “Tonight. Dinner at Le Jardin.”

Jake’s eyebrows shot up. “Le Jardin? That fancy French place? You do realize I own, like, three decent button-ups, right?”

Sophie smirked. “Then I guess we’re going shopping first.”

Jake groaned, already regretting this arrangement. But as he looked out the window at the flashing cameras and eager reporters, he knew there was no backing out now. Whether he liked it or not, his life had just taken a turn into the world of scripted reality.

That evening, Jake found himself standing in front of a luxury boutique, feeling entirely out of place. Sophie, however, seemed completely in her element as she examined racks of high-end clothing. She held up a navy blue blazer and assessed it critically before nodding in approval.

“Try this one,” she said, shoving it into his hands before disappearing deeper into the store.

Jake sighed, stepping into the fitting room. He wasn’t used to this level of formality—his wardrobe mainly consisted of flannels and t-shirts. As he buttoned up the crisp white dress shirt Sophie had picked out, he caught his reflection in the mirror. He barely recognized himself.

“Looking sharp,” Sophie commented, reappearing and giving him an appraising glance.

“I feel like I should be serving wine instead of drinking it,” he muttered.

Sophie laughed. “You clean up well, Matthews. Now let’s get going before we’re late.”

Later that night, they arrived at Le Jardin, where a throng of photographers had already gathered. Jake tensed as they stepped out of the car, but Sophie looped her arm through his with practiced ease.

“Smile,” she whispered. “Act natural.”

Jake plastered on the most convincing smile he could manage as cameras flashed around them. He had no idea what he was doing, but one thing was clear—this was only the beginning of a very long month.

As they were led to their table, Jake could feel dozens of eyes watching them. Conversations hushed, and waitstaff glanced their way more than necessary. He cleared his throat, shifting in his chair.

“This is weird,” he muttered, keeping his voice low.

Sophie picked up a menu, pretending to peruse it. “Get used to it. The more natural we look, the faster they’ll move on to something else.”

The waiter arrived, pouring them glasses of wine, his gaze flicking between them with barely concealed curiosity. Sophie, ever the actress, smiled charmingly and placed their order. Jake, on the other hand, felt as if he were on stage without a script.

As the evening went on, the questions started from nearby diners. “How did you two meet?” “Jake, are you planning on moving to LA?” “When did you realize you had feelings for Sophie?”

Jake forced a chuckle, stealing a glance at Sophie, who seamlessly stepped in with a story about a chance encounter in his café that “blossomed into something unexpected.”

As they left the restaurant, hand in hand for the cameras, Jake had to admit—she was damn good at this. The problem was, he wasn’t sure how much of it was acting and how much of it was starting to feel real.