Chapter 5 Practice Makes Perfect
Orm had always believed that pretending was one of the easiest things people did.
Children pretended to be superheroes. Teenagers pretended they didn't care when their crush walked past.
Adults pretended they understood complicated meetings when they were secretly wondering when lunch was going to arrive.
Even at work, people pretended all the time, pretended to be confident when they were nervous, pretended to be calm when they were furious, and pretended to understand what Khun Dew was saying when she started explaining quarterly marketing projections.
Pretending, in Orm's opinion, was everywhere.
What she had never considered was how difficult it could become when the thing she had to pretend was love.
Especially when the person she had to pretend to love was Lingling Kwong.
And especially when Ling seemed to be annoyingly good at it.
By Thursday morning, Orm had begun to regret every decision she had made since the company ball. Not because she had agreed to the arrangement. Not exactly. The problem was that the arrangement had turned out to be much more complicated than the simple sentence Khun Dew had used to explain it.
Pretend you're together.
It had sounded easy.
It was not.
Apparently, pretending to be a couple involved learning how close to stand, when to hold hands, how long to look at each other, which details about one another they were allowed to mention, what questions to avoid, how to sit together during interviews,
how to react when someone flirted with either of them, and—most terrifying of all—how to make everything look natural.
Natural.
That was the word P'Cherry had used approximately thirty-seven times during their rehearsal the previous afternoon.
"Natural."
"Again, but more natural."
"You're smiling too much."
"Now you're not smiling enough."
"Don't look like you're waiting for your turn to speak."
"Why are you standing three feet apart?"
"Closer."
"Not that close."
"Okay, now you're both looking like you're about to negotiate a hostage situation."
By the end of the session, Orm had seriously considered becoming a freelance creator and never entering an office again.
Now she stood outside a private event venue on Friday afternoon, staring through the glass doors while P'Cherry adjusted her earpiece and reviewed the schedule for the fourth time.
"Relax," P'Cherry said.
Orm looked at her.
"I am relaxed."
P'Cherry stared at her.
Orm stared back.
P'Cherry pointed at Orm's coffee.
"You've been holding that for ten minutes and haven't taken a sip."
Orm looked down.
She hadn't.
"That's because I'm thinking."
"That's what people say when they're panicking."
"I'm not panicking."
"You're definitely panicking."
"I am not."
P'Cherry smiled.
"You're going to be fine."
Orm sighed.
"You said that yesterday."
"And you survived yesterday."
"Technically."
P'Cherry laughed.
"You'll survive today too."
Orm glanced toward the entrance.
"Where's Ling?"
"Inside."
"Of course she is."
"She's been here since twelve."
Orm checked her watch.
"It isn't even two."
"I know."
"Does she ever arrive late?"
P'Cherry considered it.
"Not willingly."
Orm sighed.
That sounded exactly like Ling.
The Executive Director was apparently incapable of arriving anywhere without being at least ten minutes early, perfectly dressed, completely prepared, and irritatingly composed.
Orm had no idea how someone could be so calm all the time.
Then again, she had never seen Ling deal with the particular disaster that was Orm trying to pretend she was her girlfriend.
Perhaps that would finally test her.
"One more thing," P'Cherry said.
Orm looked at her.
"What?"
"Today isn't a test."
Orm frowned.
"It feels like one."
"It's not."
"It definitely feels like one."
P'Cherry lowered her voice.
"Today is about getting comfortable."
"Comfortable?"
"With each other."
Orm almost laughed.
"That's exactly what I'm worried about."
P'Cherry smiled knowingly.
"That's why we're practicing."
Before Orm could answer, a familiar voice came from behind her.
"Are you two discussing me?"
Orm turned.
Ling stood there.
She wore a simple but elegant outfit suitable for the event, her hair styled neatly, her expression calm enough to make Orm immediately suspicious.
P'Cherry smiled.
"We were."
Ling looked at Orm.
"What were you saying?"
"Nothing."
P'Cherry answered at the same time.
"She was complaining about you."
Orm turned toward her.
"P'Cherry!"
"What?" P'Cherry said innocently. "You were."
Ling's lips curved.
"I see."
Orm pointed at her.
"Don't smile."
"Why?"
"Because you're enjoying this."
"I'm not."
"You are."
Ling glanced at P'Cherry.
"She's nervous."
"I know," P'Cherry replied.
"I'm not nervous."
Ling looked back at Orm.
"You're holding your coffee upside down."
Orm froze.
She looked down.
The cup was, indeed, dangerously tilted.
"Oh."
P'Cherry burst out laughing.
Ling's smile widened.
Orm quickly straightened it.
"Nobody saw that."
"We all saw it," P'Cherry said.
Orm closed her eyes.
"This is going to be a disaster."
Ling stepped closer.
"It won't."
Orm opened her eyes.
Ling was standing nearer than she expected.
"How do you know?"
"Because we've practiced."
Orm remembered the previous day's rehearsal.
The walking.
The hand-holding.
The sitting.
The smiling.
The endless discussion about what looked natural and what looked like two people who had been forced into a relationship by a marketing department.
Ling had been frustratingly patient throughout all of it.
She had never teased Orm for getting nervous.
She had simply repeated the exercises until Orm stopped thinking about them.
That should have made things easier.
Instead, somehow, it had made Ling more difficult to ignore.
"Let's just get through today," Orm muttered.
Ling nodded.
"Together."
Orm looked at her.
That word shouldn't have affected her.
It did.
She quickly looked away.
"Right."
?
The event had been arranged by Aurelia House as a private promotional showcase for selected media representatives, brand partners, creators and industry guests.
It wasn't the enormous public campaign launch they had originally worked on several weeks earlier. That campaign had already been released and had already established itself as a success.
This was something different.
An extension.
A carefully planned continuation built around the unexpected attention that the photograph had generated.
Orm still found it absurd.
The original campaign had taken months of planning.
The photograph had taken one second.
Yet somehow that one second had created enough interest for Aurelia's marketing team to build an entire promotional strategy around it.
As Orm stepped into the venue, she saw the campaign visuals displayed across the room.
Her work.
Her ideas.
Her words.
Her concepts.
For a brief moment, she forgot about everything else.
She stopped in front of one of the large displays.
Ling, who had been walking beside her, stopped too.
"You did this."
Orm glanced at her.
"We did."
Ling shook her head.
"No."
Orm looked confused.
Ling gestured toward the display.
"This was your concept."
Orm smiled.
"You criticised half of it."
"I improved half of it."
"You criticised it."
"I challenged it."
"That's a nicer word for criticising."
Ling smiled.
"You're welcome."
Orm laughed despite herself.
There was something strangely easy about talking to Ling when they weren't thinking about the cameras.
It was only when Orm remembered they were supposed to behave like a couple that everything became awkward again.
P'Cherry appeared beside them.
"Perfect."
Orm immediately knew what was coming.
"What?"
"That."
"What?"
"The conversation."
Orm frowned.
P'Cherry pointed at them.
"You looked comfortable."
"We were talking about work."
"Exactly."
Ling nodded.
"That's why it was natural."
P'Cherry smiled.
"Remember that."
Orm sighed.
"I wish you would stop analysing everything we do."
"I'm paid to."
"That's terrifying."
P'Cherry laughed.
"Come on. We're about to start."
?
The first half hour was surprisingly easy.
They spoke with Aurelia representatives, greeted guests and answered questions about the campaign.
Whenever someone asked Orm about the creative concept, she spoke confidently. She knew the work. It was her territory, and for once she didn't have to pretend.
Ling occasionally added something about the company's strategy or the campaign's wider message, and the two of them worked well together.
Too well, perhaps.
Because eventually someone asked the inevitable question.
"How did you two become close?"
Orm smiled.
She had prepared for this.
"We worked together."
The guest laughed.
"That's the professional answer."
Orm's smile froze.
Ling calmly looked at her.
The guest continued.
"But you seem very comfortable together."
Orm glanced at Ling.
This was the moment.
The rehearsal.
The rules.
The practice.
She could practically hear P'Cherry's voice in her head.
Don't overthink it.
Orm smiled.
"We've gotten to know each other."
The guest looked delighted.
"That's sweet."
Ling added quietly,
"She makes it difficult not to."
Orm turned toward her.
That wasn't in the script.
The guest laughed.
Orm stared at Ling.
"What?"
Ling's expression was completely innocent.
"What?"
"You just..."
"What?"
Orm couldn't say it.
The guest was still watching them.
So Orm smiled.
"She's very good at making things difficult."
Ling nodded.
"She is."
They laughed.
The guest smiled.
"See? That's exactly what I mean."
Orm wanted to disappear.
Instead, she smiled.
And when Ling's hand lightly touched the small of her back as they moved toward the next group of guests, Orm almost forgot that the entire thing was pretend.
Almost.
?
The photographs began shortly afterward.
At first, it was simple.
Standing side by side.
Looking at the camera.
Smiling.