Faking it Till They Make It

Ethan awoke the next morning with a horrible feeling in his stomach. This wasn't anything like the usual pre-work anxiety; this was sharper, tinged with something he hadn't anticipated: Liam. That name hung heavily between him and the image of Ava's hesitant, almost painful expression from last night.

He had seen a lingering gaze from Liam that said something. It was an unconfined history, one probably deeper than he'd first thought. He had attempted to dismiss it as just a residue of attraction, a harmless flicker of the past. But now, the thought only replayed in his mind like a DVD he couldn't put down, tightening the knot in his stomach with each viewing. He had always considered himself fairly self-assured. A man comfortable in his own skin. His career flourishing, a colorful social life curiously shaped-with some luck, at least-and generally walking through life with poise.

But seeing Liam drew some uncomfortable vulnerability out of him-an unshakable feeling that seemed quintessentially baser; more like primal, even possessive. Without thinking, he reached for his phone and scrolled through Ava's Instagram feed, letting his finger hover above each picture. The perfectly arranged narrations of their couple moments felt lifeless now; each couldn't-help-but-pose picture became a sneer of a reminder of the gulf opening up within reality and performativity. A candid shot from dinner last night taken by someone else; it caught Ava laughing with a brilliant disposition, shining in such a way as to hurt Ethan's chest.

Their picture wasn't posed as such; it was real. Uncontrived. Sent directly to him. Heavenly and unfairly jealous at that-these were emotions Evan had never known in his life; not in that raw and torturing way. All his life, he had counselled organic relationship matters and created less rationaler opinions. Yet in that very moment, rationality felt so far away-in a tumultuous and angry sea he couldn't reach. He never experienced jealousy like this before-it was a real stab to his gut and mind. The thought of Liam and Ava, together even as friends, made him feel a sudden tightness in his chest.

He tried to reason with it. It was the "fake relationship"; wasn't it? The fake nature of it was based on a sham, and maybe it was natural to feel that little discomfort, a by-product of the intricate balancing act each of them was trying to maintain. It was all of that: the pressure, deadlines, and family on their backs. Just stress, nothing else. But even as he told himself these comforting and gentle lies, a deeper trepidation made itself comfortable. The depth of the jealousy is disturbing to him: too out of proportion for some agreement. It meant, unbeknownst to him, something deeper that he was not emotionally prepared to acknowledge. The illusionary relation-there would have crept some fissures.

Then, would this unsettling emotion signify that he might have already begun falling for Ava, irrespective of their initial partnership agreement? The day was just a blur for him. Couldn't focus, mind seems distracted, all about racing ahead with all sorts of fretfulness, fears, and insecurities. For the first time today, he found himself snapping at colleagues, indulging in the shortest of thoughts right before saying them out loud, his normal calm now yielding to a restless energy that made him fidget either on his office chair or walk around, restless.

He was on edge. Even his coffee, a normally soothing presence, tasted bitter and unsatisfactory. That evening he delayed his pre-dinner workout. He needed time to process the confusing tide of emotions that assailed him. He walked up and down his apartment, which seemed uncozy now with its minimalist and elegant design, in stark contrast to the emotional turmoil within him. He took stock of his biography in search for similarities, for keys to decipher this unexpected eruption of insecurity that flooded his being.

He had always been the achiever, the good one, the one who could deal with the confusions of life without losing composure upon facing them. Then here was this feeling-which came out of nowhere regarding somebody he could hardly call a friend-or at least, not a friendship he consciously entertained-his jealousy-and all he could feel now was lame and hopeless. It directly challenged his carefully constructed self-image that he painstakingly created with years of hard work and design. This made him feel humbled, anxious, uneasy-and terribly uncomfortable. He thought about calling Ava, but then he wanted to stop. What could he possibly say? He couldn't, under any circumstances, simply voice whatever bigger emotions involved his sudden jealousy; he couldn't admit the vulnerability that so carefully had been hidden behind the sparkling exterior of all his life's success.

To admit that would easily crumble their already fragile arrangement and expose the unsightliness of what still lingered midway in-game behind their spurious love affair. So he withdrew deeper within himself as he replayed everything about last night-every single interaction, every last detail in Ava's expressions, and Liam's confident stance he found. He was in search of answers to questions he couldn't quite put into words, an exploration of some place unknown inside the city of his emotions.

Many hours later, he was interrupted from his musings by a ringing phone. It was Ava. He hesitated before picking it up, feeling apprehensive. Her tone was uncertain when she finally spoke. She went on to explain it was also in part because of his unexpected encounter with Liam last night and how things had unfolded. She sounded so weak, uncertain. For a moment, she looked so much like a little girl, a realization sprang open in Ethan's mind: a vulnerability that caught him by surprise, a side of her he had never seen before behind the carefully constructed personality that she had created for the world to see. The conversation took its time; they tiptoed around the unresolved tension between them.

He listened while Ava explained her unexpected encounter with Liam, how she wondered what he played at right now, and her guilt at the way she allowed the evening toma amour sour on so badly. He gently listened: every thought, every fear, and insecurity she spoke about. And while he listened, he saw that her vulnerabilities were his own. Her anxiousness, her indecisiveness, her unwillingness to disrupt their constructed world: they all matched the confusions and insecurities he had wrestled with since the night before.

He minutely managed to convey his jealousy while not admitting it outright. He spoke somehow about the intensity of the night, his own disquiet about the combination of circumstances, and the discomfort he found in the presence of Liam. In some way, he mentioned his nervousness, but indirectly, allowing comfort in their shared vulnerability at that moment. This vulnerability they shared, the unarticulated recognition of their common fears about each other's fragility, opened up a new kind of space and connection between them that was something deeper and truer than it was ever pretended to be. The deception, however carefully planned, was crumbling into something less manageable and more real.

Realizing his sense of jealousy was not an infringement on Liam, it was related to the fear of losing that which he didn't even realize he had held onto—the connection with Ava that was beginning to transcend the boundaries of the blind agreement they both had a while back. It was the fear of losing the very developing bond no one of them was consciously tending to that had come with a sense of something deeper, something honest, something he never really thought would come to exist. Thus, the conversation ended in a mumbled promise of a date that might have been simpler, less calculated: a quiet dinner at home, away from the opinionated gaze of their families and the unwelcome surprise of ex-lovers.

The walls of their imitation, which were all built up so utterly, began falling apart to allow for the tentative, delicate structure of something that could simply evolve into something real and, quite unexpectedly, beautiful. Uneasiness was still there, but, at least, this time it was a shared uneasiness, a vulnerability to bind them together instead of separating them. A vulnerability that might just lay the groundwork for something more permanent. And for the very first time, Ethan allowed himself to wonder about the thrill-and-terror of the idea of love.