“So, how was it?” he asked awkwardly as he sat down beside her on the pier with a tentative gesture back at the hotel. Mimicking her position, he leaned back, setting his bands on either side of him and letting his legs dangle off the edge, into the serene nothingness of the water below him.

 

“You mean ? With that guy?” she chuckled with apathy, poking the can of beer beside her with a small grimace, “Whatever. Didn’t know his name. Plus, he . Must have been his first time.”

 

His eyebrow rose in surprise at her decided bluntness, “And do you plan to see him again?”

“As if. He’s going back to Tokyo tomorrow. God, I hope he doesn’t get clingy. Some people just don’t understand the concept of a one night stand,” she muttered distractedly, still worried about whether or not she’d actually have to drink tonight. How was she going to dump away her beer if he was right beside her?

 

A steady silence fell over the two of them. All that existed was the unknown ahead, the deep blue water, gulls circling above with their mournful cries, and the world they’d known behind them, the resort where all of their friends were. The bonfire the guys had set up hours back still glowed with brilliant luminosity, a highlight in the darkening night-bound sunset sky. Neither wanted to stop the calm that existed for that moment.

 

Then, finally daring to speak, he whispered aloud, looking straight at her, “Why do you always put up such a façade to hide behind?”

 

“Me? You’re joking,” she scoffed steely, meeting his eyes without the slightest hesitation, “If you’re talking about fronts, how about you and your bandmates? Celebrities in general? Always pretending to be happy, collected, perfect, even though you’re not?”

 

“Don’t change the subject. I know you don’t drink. I saw you drain your beer in the sink at the party last night,” came his unwavering response. He wasn’t intimidated by her, and that scared her. “Why do you always pretend to be that kind of person? What’s your motivation behind sleeping with someone new every single night?”

 

Unnerved, she looked away, kicking the water anxiously before refuting, “You must’ve been mistaken. That’s me—the partier, , dumb one. So be quiet. Now. Please.”

 

“Those are all lies. I told you I was into literature, right? I knew you were lying about failing all your classes; the website for the national writing awards had your name and picture listed under ‘grand prize’. Plus, the link to your student information on your school site listed you as second in your entire grade. So why do you tell everyone that you’re a ?” he questioned genuinely, confronting her with his own discoveries.

 

“I guess you do your research. Want to know why I was only second in my grade? First is valedictorian, who gets publicly announced and has to give a speech at graduation. No one cares about second place or ever finds out about it,” she spoke truthfully, pausing before adding in a barely audible murmur, “especially not my friends, who’ve labeled anyone who gets decent grades an ‘eternal geek’ You think I couldn’t ace those easy as hell finals? That it was a coincidence that I happened to get a perfect score in nearly all of my classes and a ninety nine in the last one?”

 

“But then how did they not find out about your award? It’s national—and everything’s online,” he persisted, trying to find a flaw in her story.

 

She laughed dryly, before reminiscing in sour disappointment, “Those people have never worked a day in their lives, never needed to study, never needed to worry about anything. The only things they needed were their iPhones and Ferraris. I bet half of them still think that George Washington invented the internet. Needless to say, none of them would ever bother to check up on some nerdy award and realize the winner was none other than me.”

 

“Then,” he continued, “Why can’t you just be yourself in front of them?”

 

Irritated, she swung her legs up onto the pier, thinking before slowly retorting, “You think people would remember me if they found out I was just a normal girl with brains? That they’d still think of my face if my name comes up fifteen years from now? Or that I’d even be known in school if I didn’t act the way I did? The thing is, no matter how you protest, everything’s different for celebrities like you. You guys can sing, dance, and have legions of fans at your feet. People just know you and admire you.

 

But if I were to just reveal my true self—the girl from an average family, who doesn’t drink, hates , detests drugs and smoking, loves to read and just be alone—would my friends still like me? No, because despite Hollywood romanticizing every element of the whole ‘be yourself’ movement. I’d be just another faceless student, disappearing into the background with the other few million.”

 

And with that, she stood up firmly, walking away step by step.