It was a cold, sunny January day in downtown Cincinnati. My teeth chattered as I sat on a scarlet metal chair. Luckily the sunshine warmed my thick clothes.

Why would Min-ho and Sugar want to meet here of all places?

A man-made ice skating rink took half of Fountain Square. Restaurants and banks circled around the open area. An old Roman guy, Cincinnatus, inspired the 1871 "To the People of Cincinnati" fountain and the city's name; all the bronze figures held or did something different. Four individuals circled the middle section, which included a child, woman, solider, and farmer. The green granite base held all the figures except the four men holding an assortment of animals, ranging from turtle, dolphin, duck, and snake. A woman, Genius of Water, stood on top with outstretched arms; usually, water flowed down from her hands, but since winter had begun the city didn't have any water in the fountain. The citizens didn't want to damage the historical monument for fear ice would destroy the interior plumbing.

I knew this information because a tour guide listed off all the historical facts to visitors as they passed my chair. I rarely came down to Fountain Square, especially after the Holidays. Public workers swept and picked up the tiny confetti that survived two days off the streets and sidewalks. With it being the second day of the new year, there were a handful of people here and there.

However, jobs started up and children headed back to school.

Today was the last day of holiday celebrations. There was ice skating. I saw a couple of adults paying fifteen dollars and trading in their sneakers for skates.

I would have to be paid to go ice skating. I would never do it out of fun. Why would someone want to pay and fall on their butts the entire time? That meant dealing with physical pain. Nope. Not worth it. I let out a sigh. A mist cloud escaped my lips.

I didn't often experience regret. Regrets held a person back and delayed opportunities. I thrived off of mistakes. How did someone like me reach over 100K hearts on TrueMatch? Was it by my charm?

Yes.

My perfectly angled and professional photographs?

Yes!

Timing my compliments?

Why, of course!

The first month, I had a trial and error run. I observed other users on their main page. I studied their words and dialogue then I applied the method towards my "love" interests. I participated in this similar to my commercial scripts. I couldn't memorize the insignificant lines that "tried" to convince listeners to purchase the items. It was a waste of time if I committed to remember the script.

The Internet was different than a reality television show.

I became what women desired. I read the qualities and aspects that each woman wanted. I messaged women individually. Three women per day; after all, a snowball began with a few snowflakes. Before I knew it, women flocked to me. I stopped initiating the conversation. I woke up with praises, encouragement, compliments, and many other messages. I learned if I said something wrong.

#1. Give the woman space (this was where I "ghosted" them)

#2. When the time's right, they'll message me first.

The process began again.

Two simple rules that were easy to remember.

I looked forward to the future, whatever laid ahead of me. Two people made me reconsider my actions. The first won't be named. I shrugged as I recalled twirling her blonde hair. Her eyes held hints of emerald and sapphire flecks. I slouched further in my seat. She was no more. The other was Sugar and one stupid drunk call.

I didn't do it. She called me! Wait, not me, but Min-ho! I happened to pick up Min-ho's cell phone because I thought it was a secret girlfriend Min-ho was hiding. Min-ho dismissed anything to do with romantic relationships during his Christmas party. With enough gin and whiskey in my belly, I started to believe Min-ho was keeping a secret. Plus, I was too drunk to realize that it was Min-ho's business phone that rang and not his personal one.

I chuckled. One day after. Sugar must have thought long and hard to make this decision.

Min-ho relayed what occurred the day after the Christmas Party. I couldn't recall what I said, but I knew whatever it was, Min-ho wasn't pleased with me. I was like a droopy-ear, golden retriever with puppy dog eyes looking at my friend, met with disappointment. Therefore, Min-ho devised a plan. He wrote an outline, highlighting the purpose of the documentary (we hadn't come up with the project's title yet), Hazel, Inc.'s history, and most importantly inviting her on this journey. Basically he prepared a sales pitch.

During the weird week between Christmas and New Year's Eve, I discovered small personal information on social medial (TrueMatch, Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, and many more) about Sugar.

Sugar's posts were generic: animal videos, upcoming superhero movies, and television memes. There was a 2016 status read:

"❤️😢

I had no clue she lost her mother. I remembered her grin when she explained her namesake. Her fingers interlocked and stayed on that coffee table. Her dry hands were red from winter's cold that day. I cut off her story.

I believed she wanted the same thing as I did. I was wrong. I smiled.

She's something.

Min-ho advised – no, he demanded I would not arrive at the meeting.

He believed my presence would affect her emotions.

She's not the only one who is affected. I'd like to hear what she'll say, especially when I poke at her. I have no idea what to expect.

Min-ho guaranteed me that Sugar's signature will be on the contract. At the meeting or a week later.

Hazel, Inc. edited my proposal, created a liability, and printed off contract forms. Once the forms were completed and Mr. Dalton and the Board's verification, camera people, sound editing board person, and other helpers would shadow me as I fulfilled my daily routines. I believed four or five people would constantly follow me. I wouldn't have a moment alone until the three to four months was finished. I emailed asking Mr. Dalton: "Why three months?"

Mr. Dalton's responses, "A year was too long. Three and four months gave enough film for editors to work and create a flow, a plot, that naturally happens. Unless the experiment combusts: the women turn it into another Bachelor or you have no struggles."

I thrived off this project.

Even so, I knew I wouldn't receive a penny until the halfway period. My saving account and the Champion's direct deposit aided in my daily expenses.

I could taste the potential. I wanted to reach out and grab tight on the ends. However, this project had its own breath and life. It will succeed or fail not because of preparation. I knew the viewers had to connect and have empathy. Min-ho repeated that throughout Champion; the viewers needed to engage. They needed to be entertained! My whole body shook with excitement and adrenaline.

I'll resume spending quality time with women and I'll earn money while doing so.

Win-win!

I leaned forward in my chair.

Min-ho told me this morning, "I got it covered."

I was going alone. Min-ho would call me about the meeting's details.

I agreed.

It was better to stay away. I remained away.

Following isn't classified as keeping away. I'm not breaking the rules. I'm obeying the ground rules we set.

What Min-ho didn't know wouldn't hurt him right?

I observed Min-ho and Sugar. They decided to meet at a local ice cream parlor: Fantastic's. The best ice cream in Cincinnati. I groaned.

Ice cream in the winter?

There were four open glass windows that allowed outsiders to peer into the delicious haven. Small tables and chairs were pushed against the right side of the building. The clean counter had buckets of multiple flavored ice cream. Tiny circular sinks contained ice cream scoopers. The faucet ran water constantly.

Of course, I was too far away to see all the tiny details; these were based on my memories. Fantastic's parlors were consistent; salted caramels wrapped in gifted boxes, coffees varied from light, medium and dark roast, a golden teddy bear wore Fantastic's T-Shirt, and mini candies.

Thirty minutes had passed, and Min-ho's back was towards me. Sugar sat on the opposite side of Min-ho.

She laughed a few times.

Her lips moved as she stared at Min-ho. Her smile wavered. Near the end, her fingers tapped against the table. She stared down on the table. He provided a pen and the three-page proposal. He separated the main points on each page and expanded on them verbally.

Sugar's posture slouched.

Couple of times, she shook her head. I wished I could read lips. I had another talent with mouths, and it wasn't reading them.

Sugar scooted her chair back. Min-ho stood up, insisting on something.

She sat back down. Again, the process began.

Her tilted head. She seemed preoccupied with other thoughts. Her gaze went towards the window, other passing customers, or the counter.

I frowned.

She has no interest. Min-ho has it easier convincing a stranger than Sugar.

I hissed.

All the hours within the week to prepare and document had gone to waste on her. Min-ho chose to stay up at three in the morning to retain as much as he could for her. He gave up family time: Music Hall tickets, Christmas Lights, Parades, games, and dinner. All the dinners! At least, Min-ho knew what to provide for other women. Min-ho stood up and buttoned his navy-blue suit jacket. He scooted the papers closer to Sugar's side. Before he left, he bowed.

I turned around in my chair. I faced the fountain. I heard the bell ring as the door opened. My breath increased; small puffy clouds grew and expanded into the air. I started counting backwards from ten. The bronze male statue that captured the dolphin stared into my soul.

This is weird. I need to continue looking away. Min-ho walks fast. He should be around the corner going to the parking garage.

Sliding slowly, I glanced over my shoulder.

Min-ho disappeared.

"Finally," I said to no one.

I advanced towards Fantastic's. My frozen nose needed a tissue. The weather contributed to the sniffles and runny mucus. Luckily, I wore a heavy coat, thick gloves, long-john underwear, and an extra shirt underneath his plaid sweater. The bell rang as I opened the door. A worker greeted me. I smiled and waved. But my eyes fixed on one person.

She slumped in her seat. A melted strawberry ice cream in a cup left untouched. Elbows rested on the table, her hands ran through her wavy, brunette hair. Strands tangled up with each other. Knots formed underneath her fingers. Her eyes engrossed on those intimidating papers.

Oh damn. I should leave her alone. Let her dwell on this.

I smirked.

Where's the fun in that?

I pulled and turned the chair Min-ho sat in. My hips leaned forward against the chair's backing. There were wires that curled and depicted flowers: small details on the stems, the veins of the leaves, and the seeds. The stem touched my stomach. My arms laid on top of the outer wire that kept people from falling. Out of spite, I reached over and picked up the ice cream.

Sugar glanced up. "What – the – hey – you-"

"Why did you want to meet up?"

I stabbed the strawberry ice cream with the white plastic spoon. Well, the strawberry goop. The handle was covered in sugar from being in the bowl.

"You're not supposed to be here," Sugar stated.

Her jaw slanted. Melted caramel eyes stared through me. Her fingers tightened her hair.

Her stutter went away.

"You told Min-ho you were interested."

She shook her head. "All I said was that I wanted to meet up."

She reached forward over the table.

"With an open mind?" I asked.

I stared at the enormous glob on the spoon.

"Of course. Unlike you," she hissed. "Give the ice cream back."

I took a bite. I turned the spoon upside down for the ice cream to go directly on my tongue. The wonderful fruity flavor greeted my taste buds. Slowly, I drew out the spoon out of my mouth. I moaned.

"Are you five?" Sugar accused.

"He stayed up until three in the morning editing those papers." I took another bite. "His family invited him for Holiday events. He declined because he wanted to prepare for this meeting."

I pushed the bowl towards Sugar.

"You already had your mind made up," I declared, "You didn't even listen to what he had to say."

"First off," Sugar started, "Were you spying on us? That's creepy!"

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Second, I was listening to him."

"I watched. You were distracted – you looked at anything except him," I declared and then added, "There's a difference between spying and watching. I'm here for moral support."

She rolled her eyes.

"Scouts honor," I said, raising my left hand up.

"That's the wrong hand."

Then I raised my right hand.

"You do nothing but lie," Sugar said.

"So do you."

"I beg your pardon," she replied.

"People do in general. Just stating a fact, darling." I grinned.

"I hate pet names."

"Your name is Sugar."

She gave me a sideways look.

"If you do participate in our project," I said, raising my hands up as if I was surrendering.

"Or I can think about it. Then do what I want to do." Sugar cut me off and rapidly blinked.

Crap! I'm losing her!

"You're right. You have no commitments or obligations," I said.

"Glad we're on the same page."

She grinned. She pushed her chair back.

Say something!

"I'm sorry about your mother."

Her hands lingered on the papers.

Sugar twisted her tongue. Quickly, she looked at me as if she wanted to verify what she heard.

I stayed silent. I drummed on the table to a slow beat. Customers received their hot drinks, delicious cold treats, and mouth-watery chocolates.

Sugar continued the silence. She turned her head gazing outside the window.

My nose was almost to its normal peachy tone. I observed her. I wasn't a hundred percent sure how to handle this. I knew I had to mention her mother; she mentioned her mother during our "date." Family was significant and was higher on Sugar's pedestal.

I turned my head following Sugar's gaze.

A little girl held onto a woman's hand. They were ice skating. The girl was a rubber band bending forwards and backwards; her balance wobbled. Her mother held onto her child, an anchor to the roaring sea waves.

Great. I didn't mean to make her sad.

I ran my hand over my face. I bit the inside of my cheek. My right leg bounced, causing the table to shake.

"Come on."

"What?" Sugar looked away from the parent and child.

"Let's go."

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

I sighed. "It's not what you think."

"Then tell me what-"

"How about a surprise?"

"I can't handle any more surprises from you."

I wanted to reach over and touch her arm. A simple touch would help display that I wanted to comfort her. But I was done getting slapped and physically hurt.

Let the pain continue.

"It's ice skating."

Hello lovelies!

How are you? Oh gosh, it's been awhile.

So much has happened this past month. "Fake It" has been added on ChickLit's A La Mode reading list!!! I'm blown away with that. I believe this story is good; I was just surprised. I'm humbled and emotionally moved. Thank you!

Thank you for reading, voting, adding this story to your reading list, and commenting. All of the feedbacks brighten my day. 😊

This chapter was shorter than the others. I've had fun! I enjoyed describing the setting and took pictures in Cincinnati. I wanted them to interact but now Sugar and August have to find something in common. Hehehe. I'm super excited about the ice-skating!

They have to talk now.

If they knew me, they won't like me. Haha.

Thank you for everything! ❤️

Talk to you soon!