close to you gracie abrams ♥︎ ⇄ ◁◁ 𝚰𝚰 ▷▷ ↻ ⁰⁰'²⁵ ━━●━━───── ⁰²'⁰⁸

You could thank the fame for the situation you had found yourself into.

Kaz being a very popular actor, and you being a supermodel, something like this was bound to happen. A publicity stunt, carefully crafted so the public thinks the two of you are legit.

You and Kaz weren't actually dating. In fact, you hated each other, not that the media would know. Your manager had assured you it was all meant to be fake; all for publicity. It sure as hell felt fake.

The smiles Kaz gave you at red carpets were a stark contrast to the blank expressions he gifted you every other time the two of you were alone. The way he held your waist and pressed kisses to your cheek- all for the cameras- just pissed you off even more.

You had enough of it. Those two months this whole ordeal had been organised felt like years- centuries, even. And, so, you found yourself inviting over Kaz to your apartment, to discuss how you wanted this all to be over. He needed to be on board- which you were sure he would be- before you could talk to your manager.

So, there he was. Based on his messy, curly hair, he looked like he spent the entire day wrestling paparazzi. Or maybe it was styled like that- you couldn't really tell.

Kaz stared at you blankly as you spoke. It was frustrating, actually. He didn't even look like he was listening, or that he cared. You, obviously disgruntled and upset, start raising your voice, going on about how you hated pretending to be his girlfriend, how stupid and cliche this fake-publicity-stunt-dating thing was, and even how you hated him.

He raises a dark brow, and crosses his arms, leaning against the wall. Kaz clears his throat, cutting you off. "I was never pretending." he says, slowly.