Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 130673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
He’d brought his iPad so he could work here after Gravity went to bed. I didn’t know why, but it made my heart squeeze. I scrolled through App-date. It looked like if X’s elegance and Instagram’s aesthetic had a baby, yet it was completely its own unique brand.
The logo was the app name in lowercase letters, along with an engagement ring, the diamond exploding into tiny, torn Polaroid pictures of loved-up couples. The slogan was “Your ex’s pain is our gain.”
“You went a little overboard with that slogan.” I cleared my throat.
“The world runs on feelings, Cosmos. Every good marketing executive knows that in order to tap into people’s emotions, you have to make them feel shitty about themselves first.”
“You’re literally so toxic I’m afraid to breathe in your direction,” I muttered.
“Shh.” He elbowed me. “Concentrate on the experience.”
The background was probably one of the coolest features of the app. You had to choose where you were from, and the background immediately turned to a backdrop of your location, be it the New York skyline, the London Eye, or an open cornfield. The search engine was surprisingly specific. Location, age, gender, occupation, income, and exact goals. The app focused on people finding dates they could flaunt or play pretend with, not actually on finding love. But there were also broader searches for people who wanted to travel with like-minded individuals, befriend people with certain traits they missed in their exes, et cetera.
“It’s different from Tinder and Bumble,” Rhyland explained, licking his lips. “The goal here isn’t to find a hookup or a partner. It’s to have a strictly professional, quid pro quo relationship with someone willing to help you pretend like you’ve moved on. Or—and this is even more interesting—to find someone with the same traits as you to do something you already planned to do with your ex before you broke up. Like go on a hiking trip, backpack, and so on.”
“Are there really that many people out there who want to pretend to have someone?” I turned to him, mesmerized.
He motioned with his hand between us. Fair point.
“Plus,” he mused. “It’s not just for fake dates and partners. It’s a fill-in app. A place where you find a replacement to fill the gaping hole the person you broke up with left behind.”
You could find anything on the app. A one-off date for an event. An entire fake relationship. A friendship between two heartbroken people. This app basically promised to be your best friend after a breakup. Which was ironic since Rhyland, its creator, had never had a girlfriend.
“Look, I’m not gonna lie, it’s smart, sleek, and super freaking sophisticated.” I pushed the iPad across the surface back to him. “But I get why Bruce ‘Family Man’ Marshall is hesitant. You’re essentially promoting a lie.”
“Am I, though?” He grabbed the iPad, sliding it into his messenger bag. “Who knows how these relationships will turn out? If two people are hell-bent on driving their exes nuts and like each other enough, through talking online, to flaunt each other, wouldn’t you say they have a genuine chance of falling in love for real?”
“Um, no, because we’re in a fake relationship, and the only real thing I feel is the need to spoon your eyeballs out every time you provoke me.”
He snorted. “You wanna tell me, with a straight face, that you hate me the same way you did when we met on that curb a few days ago?”
“That doesn’t count. You’re literally helping me with Grav and money and—” The rest of my speech perished on my tongue. Huh. He had a point.
“And there you have it.” He winked. “I don’t think Bruce hates the idea of the app. If anything, it promotes informed consent around platonic relationships.” He visibly shuddered at the blasphemy. “His issue is with me. With who I am. My reputation. That’s why we need to ace this fake-lovers assignment, Casablancas.”
I bit down on the side of my lip, glancing at the app again. “Fine. It’s a good app. For what it’s worth, which is probably nothing at all, I think Bruce would be mad not to invest in it. There’s nothing sleazy or immoral about it. It would’ve been nice to have something like it when Tuck left me. In fact, you could monetize the shit out of this thing, because back then, I’d easily have spent a hundred bucks on signing up.”
“We’re looking at fifty bucks a year.” He flicked my nose like I was an adorable puppy, standing up and collecting his things. “Besides, I’d have been your fake boyfriend free of charge. You’d be my pro bono.”
Watching him move toward the door made my heart drop, and not in a good way. I didn’t want him to go, I realized. But I just sat there and stared. What else could I do? I’d already monopolized so much of his time since I got here. I didn’t want to overdo it.