Chapter Five

Riley’s POV

Don’t get me wrong, I love my mom, but I hate dealing with her.

My mom is a little bit… well, extra, and it gets really tiring. It wasn’t always like this. Not until after the incident with my dad, then the divorce. Something in her shifted after that. She became closed off, conservative, overly everything.

The divorce happened when I was still in high school. I almost didn’t get to study theatre because of it. My mom was completely against it. So she set a condition, one that could have easily cost me a lot of roles if I wasn’t as good as I am.

So no, don’t blame me for putting off calling her until I got home.

I also knew better than to open her message and ignore it afterward, so I left it untouched until I felt ready.

Except I wasn’t.

Ten seconds into the video had me tossing my phone across the bed, the soft thud of it hitting the mattress barely registering. Too stunned to breathe. What did I just see? And why on earth was that video coming from my mom?

“No. No. No.”

My voice came out thin, shaky. I must have seen it wrong. It couldn’t be. I reached for my phone again, fingers unsteady, my pulse loud in my ears. The screen lit up, and there it was—unchanged, undeniable.

My mom had sent me a video from the night of the festival. A video of me. And the stranger. Kissing. My stomach dropped so fast it made me dizzy.

How the heck was this possible? How did this even happen? I hadn’t seen this video anywhere. It wasn’t circulating. I didn’t even know it existed.

So why did my mom have it?

The walls of my room suddenly felt too close, like they were inching inward, pressing the air out of my lungs. My chest tightened, each breath shallower than the last.

And then, as if things weren’t already spiraling, my phone rang. Mom. The sound cut through the silence like a blade. For a second too long, I considered ignoring it. But I knew better. Ignore her long enough and she just might show up at my doorstep. I answered.

“Riley Marinette Brooks.”

Her voice came through calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that always meant trouble.

“Hi mom.”

“Can you explain that video to me?’’

I opened my mouth, but the words tangled together before they could form.

“Don’t tell me that was all part of an act, because that would be breaking our agreement.”

Our agreement.

The condition she set, the only reason I was allowed to do theatre at all, was that I would never take part in a kiss scene. She couldn’t stand the idea of me kissing different people for a role.

It sounded ridiculous. But those were her terms.

“Riley?’’

Her tone sharpened, impatience creeping in.

“It wasn’t. He wasn’t part of an act… or theatre.’’

“Then, who is he?”

Three different answers flashed through my mind in seconds. And somehow, I chose the worst possible one.

“He’s my boyfriend.”

The words hung there. Heavy. Wrong. I mentally cringed, a full-body internal facepalm. How did I even get there? Silence stretched on the other end of the line.

“Mom?”

“You never told me you had a boyfriend.” Her voice turned colder. Hurt. Controlled.

Before Matty, I had never been in a relationship. He was my first. I had naïvely thought he would be my last. But even then, I never told my mom. After the divorce, she became distant from anything involving relationships, or boys in general.

So yes. This lie? Terrible choice.

“I was going to tell you, it hasn’t been long since…”

“And you’re already kissing? In public at that?’’ Her voice rose—half horror, half disbelief.

“Mom, I’m not a child.”

“Not when you’re still under my care, you are.”

“Mom!”

“We had an agreement, Riley.”

“And I never once broke it. Do you know how many countless roles and opportunities I have lost because of it?” My voice lifted despite myself, frustration breaking through. “Mom, your divorce doesn’t have to be the end of the world. It shouldn’t be the end of my world. I have my whole life to live and your standards are quite limiting.”

The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I had gone too far. Silence. Heavy and unforgiving.

“Mom, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it like that?”

More silence. Then

“It’s fine. What’s his name?”

“Uhh, his what?”

“His name. I presume, he has a name.”

“Of course, urmm… his name is Mason.”

Mason?

Really?

That was the best I could come up with?

“Mason. Cool. Well, we’ll talk later.”

“Alright mom.”

Relief slipped into my lungs too quickly.

“Actually, one last thing.”

My stomach dropped again.

“I’ll be visiting on Saturday. I’ll like to see Mason.”

“You’ll be doing the what now?”

“Bye sweetie. See you soon.”

The line went dead. I stared at my phone. What in theatre name just happened? What did I just get myself into?

---

I’d barely gotten any sleep. I felt guilty for lying to mom, but I felt even more bothered on how I was going to execute this lie. The past few days had already been a mess, but this? This was chaos on another level.

I had spent days trying to avoid the same person I now desperately needed to find. I groaned, dragging my hands down my face. What would the truth have cost me?

Theatre.

Yeah. Not an option. So now? This lie had to work. But where do I even begin? I know nothing about this guy. Nothing, except that my mom now thought his name was Mason.

And then it hit me.

If he wasn’t a theatre kid, and I am almost certain he wasn’t, then the only reason he would’ve been backstage was with an approved pass.

And Stacy handled pass authorizations. She had to know who he was. She had to. Please, God let her know him.

I rushed toward the theatre studio, my steps quick, uneven against the tiled floor. The familiar hum of equipment grew louder as I approached, the faint glow of screens spilling into the hallway.

Right on cue, Stacy was there. Exactly where she always was at this hour.

The studio smelled heavily of stale coffee and leftover pizza, the air thick and warm. The soft clicking of her keyboard filled the room, her focus locked entirely onto the screen in front of her.

She hated being interrupted. But I didn’t have a choice.

I had less than three days to convince a stranger to pretend to be my boyfriend and have lunch with my mother. Wild didn’t even begin to cover it.

“Hi Stace.”

“I’m busy.”

“I can see that.”  She had bags under her eyes and visible stress lines on her face.

“How long have you been here? And when last did you have a proper rest?”

Her eyes twitched slightly, a crooked smile forming on her lips.

“I’ve been here for two days now and had my last rest 3 days ago”

“And you’re sure you’re not a vampire?” I snickered.

She laughed, her dimple deepening as she pushed her curls back from her face.

“What do you want, Riles?”

“Right. I need your help. I need to identify this guy. A name and possibly his department if known.”

I held out my phone, showing her the video. Her eyes lit up instantly, mischief dancing in them, but she held back a comment. Barely.

“You really don’t know him? And you kissed him?”

“That was exactly why I kissed him.”

She burst into laughter.

“Theatre kids will never not amaze me,” she said between chuckles.

“Can you just tell me already… please.”

“You seriously don’t know him?” she asked again, more seriously now.

I shook my head. Was I supposed to?

“How can you not know him? Cole Donovan? Ring a bell?”

“Uhh?”

“My gosh, Tyler Donovan. They’re twins.”

“What? As in, same Tyler I played the final act with?”

“Yes, that Tyler.”

“They look nothing alike.”

“They do. You just never looked closely. Besides that, he is the best tech student the university’s got. Do you know how many awards the guy’s got? People react to his name just the same way they’d react to yours, or Tyler or even Noah Bennett. The guy’s a big deal.”

“People react to my name?” I joked.

She shot me a look.

“Sorry.”

Focus, Riley.

“So, if you are looking for this guy, your quickest route would be Tyler. Now off you go. I have to finish this so I don’t spend another night here.”

That was my cue.

“Thanks a lot Stace,” I called as I made my way out.

This wasn’t getting easier.

If anything, it just got more complicated.

Tyler and I weren’t close, but we weren’t strangers either. I knew enough about him to know he was dramatic, even for a theatre kid.

And apparently? He had a twin. News to me. I pulled out my phone and called him. He picked up on the second ring.

“Yo, what’s up? We don’t have any act together, do we?”

“No, we don’t. why?”

“You only call when we do.” He chuckled.

“So, what’s up Brooks, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Dramatic, very dramatic.

“When were you going to tell me?” I blurted.

“Tell you what?”

“About your twin being the one I kissed.”

There was a pause. Then laughter. Loud and uncontrolled.

“It’s not even funny. Hell, I didn’t even know you had a twin.”

“Well, it took you long enough to find out.”

He was still laughing.

“I believe you didn’t just call me to tell me you found out my brother was the stranger you kissed.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Well then, shoot, I’m listening.”

“I need his number.”

“You need his what?” And there it was again, laughter.

“I’ll text it to you. But prepare yourself, he’s going to be so annoyed.”

A pause. Then,

“I’m absolutely going to watch this.”

The call ended. A few seconds later, his contact came through. I stared at the screen. Well. I guess I’m really doing this.