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"Neither have I. Though I assume it involves more than the suit I wore to my cousin's wedding,” Adam says.

"Definitely more than that. We'll need to coordinate our outfits so we look like an actual couple."

"Shopping trip?" Adam asks. “On me!” He confirms, because he knows that all my money gets tied up in rent and a little bit more for the odd treat in the cafe.

"Shopping trip. This weekend?"

"This weekend," Adam agrees. "And Belle? Thank you. For trusting me with this."

"Thank you for agreeing to help me avoid social catastrophe."

"Always happy to enable your schemes."

As we leave the library together, walking out into the crisp autumn night, I feel a mix of excitement and terror about what we're planning. In less than two weeks, Adam and I will walk into Thornfield Palace as a fake couple, pretending to be in love while navigating one of the most exclusive social events in the region.

It's either going to be the adventure of a lifetime or the most spectacular disaster in the history of fake relationships.

Possibly both.

But as Adam walks me to my car and gives me a hug goodnight that feels just slightly different than usual, I find myself looking forward to finding out.

Because maybe, just maybe, pretending to be in love with my best friend will teach me something about what I actually want from life.

And maybe that knowledge will be worth whatever complications come with it.

11

THE WILLOWBROOK CHRONICLE

Sweet Eavesdroppers,

Lady Inkwell is positivelytremblingwith excitement! The golden box at the post office has finally received its most anticipated responses, and oh my dears, the revelations are absolutelydelicious!

Our very own Mr. Adam Chen and Miss Belle Hartwell have not only submitted their RSVPs for this year's Masquerade Ball at Thornfield Palace, but sources confirm they are attendingtogether! Yes, darlings, as a couple! One can only imagine what romantic developments transpired between our bookish librarians to inspire such a delightful pairing.

But here's where Lady Inkwell's curiosity reaches fever pitch: what on earth will they wear? Miss Hartwell, bless her sensible soul, has been spotted making mysterious visits to the dress shop on Main Street, while whispers suggest Mr. Chen has been seen consulting with the tailor about something far more elaborate than his usual casual attire.

The anticipation is absolutelykillingme, darlings! Will our perpetually practical librarian emerge transformed in silk and satin? Will Mr. Chen abandon his comfortable cardigans for something worthy of palace grandeur? And what masks willthey choose to conceal their identities during the evening's festivities?

One thing is certain: Willbrook's most unexpected couple will undoubtedly surprise us all when they grace those hallowed halls together. Lady Inkwell can hardly contain her speculation about what other revelations this magical evening might bring!

Yours in breathless anticipation,Lady Inkwell

P.S. - Sources suggest that certain prominent local establishments have been fielding inquiries about formal wear. How wonderfully romantic!

12

BELLE

We could have gone to Adam's house to do some more practice runs of being a fake couple, but when we were there yesterday, his mom brought out a wedding dress catalog and said that maybe with my skin tone, cream would be a better color than white.

Then she came back with her laptop and started telling me about all the wedding planners in the neighboring areas, and how I wouldn't have to lift a finger, because they will do it all for me. So much pressure, and we haven't even been on one date. So today we decided the best place to practice is in my flat, but the issue is that there isn't much room for one person, let alone two.

"This feels ridiculous," Adam mutters as we stand in the middle of my cramped studio apartment, attempting what we've optimistically termed "couple practice." The space is so small that we're practically on top of each other anyway, which should theoretically make practicing intimacy easier. Instead, it just makes everything feel more awkward.

"It's supposed to feel ridiculous at first," I insist, though I'm not entirely convinced of this myself. "We just need to get comfortable with... couple-y things."

"Couple-y things," Adam repeats dubiously. "Is that the technical term?"