"Hey Chris, we still on for Friday?"

I glanced up, but Neil didn't look away from his exploration of my hand on my other side. He kept hold of it when I tried to pull away. Jenna, one of the models at the studio, grinned down at us.

"Um... yeah, I guess. If you haven't canceled."

Wisps of her bright red hair floated down from the messy bun she'd pun it in, as she shook her head, sitting next to me. "How many times do I have to tell you I really want to hang out with you? I'm not pitying you."

"Don't worry, it's not just you; I'm still trying to convince her." Neil kissed the back of my hand.

I rolled my eyes and faced forward. Since our first date, we'd gone out about five times; no one had any chance against him. Those days with him had solidified the fact that he's stubborn in what he wants. So when we were out the day before, and he introduced me to one of his friends re ran into as "his girlfriend, Christelle", despite being shocked and terrified, I knew better than to argue. I WAS his girlfriend, because he'd said so. Not because I wanted to be.

I'd always been a bad liar.

"Okay, we have a busy day, so I'll get right to the point. Everyone find your seat so we can begin!" At the front of the room, Lilian waited with her camera glued to her hip; waited for us the models to shut up.

James came back to sit beside me; Neil didn't look up from positioning my fingers. I tried to pull it away, but he held fast.

"I'm paying attention, okay? Calm down."

When everyone settled down, Lilian gestured to the elaborate setup of foods that lined the wall, and the pastries on the table beside them. "I'm sure you've all noticed the delicious new layout of foods. Were they to your satisfaction?"

All the models clapped, except Neil, who was still focused on my fingers.

"We've gotten a new chef, as you all remember the tragedy of last week."

There had been bugs in the food; cockroaches. Some of the models had thrown up, and one threw a fit that could be heard all the way in Canada. No one understood how it could have happened; it seemed weird and wrong. Something about the incident hadn't sat well with me. Needless to say, that chef had been fired.

"So, very quickly; we have work to do. But please welcome Miss Macyn Cyrus to the studio!"

The applause was inaudible in my ears as Macyn walked into the room, grinning from ear to ear and waving to the crowd of models. My jaw dropped, and I looked at James, who wore a similar expression. Neil stopped messing with my hand, and leaned closer.

"What's wrong with you two? You didn't like the food?"

I ignored him, and rose, along with James. "Mace?" he asked.

Macyn located him, and then me, with her eyes, and her grin grew. She looked one hundred percent happy, carefree. I on the other hand was seeing red. She wasn't happy, she wasn't carefree; she'd come for a purpose.

Neil stood as well, confused. "What's going on? Do you two know her?"

I shook my head and stared at Macyn, who still grinned. "She's my sister."