View Full Version : Fake Me Not (Some language)

January 27th, 2011, 09:55 AM
This is something I wrote back in school. It's simple, and I hope you guys like it.

My wildest dreams have come true. I finally got a lucky star to smile down on me (after over a thousand nights of prayer) and made my wish come true.

Royce Exley is going out with me tonight. A mutual friend fixed us up. Bless him.

Of course, I wished he would have warned me and gave me more time to prepare myself (like maybe wrap myself into a cocoon or something), but beggars can't be choosers. He set it up, and I was desperately smitten enough to go with it.

Anyway, night came and I made myself up like never before. Holding my composure, I waited for at least thirty seconds before I went downstairs. I gave myself a last thorough check in the full-length mirror and smiled.

I could kiss me. I was beautiful! My black silk dress with its spaghetti strings fell in the right places, enhancing my figure. “Aryanna!” Dad’s voice boomed from downstairs, calling me down to meet my date. My sister Jenna told me Royce had arrived some five minutes ago, and I wanted to make him wait a little. Dad can be so clueless sometimes.

Sighing, I headed for the stairs, my voice carefully cool and schooled to sound just so, “Coming.”
I could really kiss me. When I went downstairs, I could see that Royce was transfixed when he saw me. He seems to have caught his breath and said quietly, “Hi.”

Smiling demurely (I didn’t know I could do that before tonight, but I think I managed it pretty well), I kissed dad on his cheek and walked towards the door with Royce behind me.

As planned, Royce took me to the theatre, where they were playing, ‘My Fair Lady’. The play was wonderful, and Royce was a great date. We were laughing by the time we were on our way to a Chinese restaurant for dinner. Talk about class, the guy has it! The restaurant was beautifully decorated and of course, very oriental in tones of red and gold with the calming colour of beige for the walls.

The tables and chairs of the dining sets were of rosewood with interesting carvings and inlays that made me wonder of its significance in history. The hostess who sat us mentioned that the tables and chairs in the restaurant imitates the designs that dated back from the Ming Dynasty.

One could say that Royce treated me like a princess when he brought me to this restaurant (not your regular Chinese take-out).

And he, the Emperor of my heart.

We sat, he ordered, in Chinese, and then we talked about the play, our ambitions, and oh, everything that is talked about when two people are trying to get to know one another.

Before we knew it, the appetiser arrived at our table. It was the shark’s fin soup.

“Lovely,” I said, when the waitress poured me a few drops of vinegar. The steam rising from the soup tempted us both and we didn’t wait to taste it. As I was appreciating the steam warming my cool cheeks, the most horrifying thing happened.

One of the fake eyelashes I glued on to give my eyes some visible lashes from a ‘hundred’ feet away, fell into my soup!

How bad is that? Not so bad as to have Royce clear his throat, in shock, no doubt (I wondered if he choked a lil’ on the soup) and ordered me another bowl as I kept my head down and pulled the other eyelash so I can dump it into my bag.

Royce, ever the gentleman continued our conversation as if nothing happened and gradually, I felt at ease again.

The abalone and baby kailans or, the Chinese Kale came when we were discussing the pros and cons of cloning humans, and I delighted in the dish that was served, never suspecting that it was going to be disastrous for me.

When I used the chopsticks to lift a slippery piece of abalone, I realised I had to put on a little bit more pressure on the sticks to kind of grip it when the pressure caused the fake nail on my forefinger and third finger to come off and flew into the air before one landed into Royce’s drink. God knows where the heck the other went to. Who cares? Would you want to know?


Too embarrassed to say anything, I switched our drinks, my eyes looking down at my plate. Blushing furiously, I peeled off the rest of the eight nails and dumped them into my bag. Still looking down, I excused myself to the ladies.

I’m literally falling apart here, what else could happen?

The answer to that question didn’t come too soon. When I made a move towards the exit leading to the restrooms with my eyes staring ahead at no particular point, I heard a snicker. I stopped in my tracks when I felt that everyone was looking at me and smiling, some I saw when I looked around, from behind their hands.
Bracing myself, I looked down and I saw that my right silk stocking had failed me and sat gathered around my ankle, exposing my unshaven legs.

I didn’t have to look to see if Royce was looking. I could feel his eyes on me. On my legs. My hairy leg, to be exact. Anyway, to regain some part of the dignity I had left, I bent down to pull it up without bending my legs much in an effort to look sexy.

Succeeding that, I walked away with my bag on my shoulder when I felt the ground go from under my feet. My heel broke and I grabbed the nearest ‘thing’ to me: a waiter carrying peanut soup. And of course, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened to the soup!

For you ‘dummies’ out there, it fell on me.

Oh, God! The soup was warm, but I still had to bite down on my lips to keep from screaming, but a whimper and a whine escaped my lips. At least it wasn’t a bowl of freshly brewed peanut soup or I’d be suffering burns!

Then again, at this point, it didn’t matter much to me if I got burnt or not. The damage is done. I have suffered my ultimate humiliation for the night. God, please let it be the last! Another waiter tried to help me up, but I almost slipped again before I regained my footing.

So it was with one broken heel and a limping grace that I walked myself out of the restaurant and into the ladies, refusing assistance from the female waitresses.

And then, if Royce was expecting me back into that accursed restaurant, he’s not as bright as I thought he might be.

I hailed for a cab and went straight back home in my dishevelled condition, smelling for the world like a walking peanut.

Dad stayed up waiting for me and laughed at my story but comforted me as I sobbed into his shirt. I felt grateful for dad’s comforting embrace except for the occasional rumblings I can feel him holding in his chest.

Dang it, I’ll be laughing at this too, in a few years’ time.

Blaming my ‘lucky’ stars for the night’s unfortunates, I slept fitfully and woke up to a ringing phone under my ear.

Ouch! The cordless was under my pillow.
Thinking that it might be Jason, my friend who set me up with Royce, I answered the phone woefully, “Hellooo..”

“Hi. Ary? It’s me, Royce. Are you okay?”

That got me sitting straight up on my bed. “Royce? Why are you calling me?”

Royce laughed at what he thought was my humour and said, “To check and see if you were all right. And from the sound of it, you need some mending on your bruised pride.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny. I didn’t say my pride was bruised,” I denied sulkily as I felt a blush creeping up my neck.

“Okay then. If your pride wasn’t bruised, then why didn’t you come back to the table last night?” Royce asked, making me sit up straighter as I prickled to defend myself.

“Well, after what happened, I thought I was saving your pride by not coming back to the table. Your pride must have been bruised terribly to have a…a…klutz for a date!” I pointed out ridiculously, frowning at my own reasoning when I confused myself.

“I didn’t say you were a klutz,” he denied, then in a more serious voice, he said, “You’re not a klutz,” defending me, thus confusing me further. And then, we both fell silent before we burst out laughing, and I thought of how ridiculous the situation was.

“Really, Royce. Why are you calling? Wanted copyrights from me so that I won’t sue you when you make a movie out of my ‘accidents’ last night?” I joked, but sincerely wanted an answer. It was making me nervous, but I figured what the heck, nothing could be worse than last night.

“I called because...” he trailed off, hesitated and said, “I want to see you again. Can we go somewhere tonight?”

I laughed with gusto and said, “What? Not enough of last night?”

Royce laughed along but then he got serious, “I really want to see you again. I know that behind all that disguise,” he paused and his voice lowered, making my heart pound, “you are actually a very sweet, lively, intelligent, funny and cool girl. So I am requesting that you go out with me tonight minus all those ridiculous things you let attach on you.” Before I could say anything in response, he asked jokingly, “How could you breathe?” and we laughed together again.

“You are serious, aren’t you?” we were both quiet for a moment and suddenly, I just could not contain my laughter any longer.

I laughed when I answered, “Yes. Yes, I’ll go out with you. With any luck, my dentures won’t fall off this time!”

There was a strained silence, which made me laugh even harder. “I was just kidding! I have retainers. But I won’t be wearing them tonight!”

Royce was so relieved I could hear it in his laughter. But no matter. After last night, he must’ve been scared shitless when I mentioned the dentures.

And to have closed an eye over the shit that hit the fan last night again and again, I figured, he deserved a pass for the possibility of bailing out had the dentures been real stuff.


So we went out that night. Everything went great, and Royce made me realise that I am actually sweet and quite the natural beauty. I may not be Megan Fox beautiful, but at least I am not boring. Royce’s words. Not mine.

Now, lying on my back with my head on his lap as we relaxed under the maple tree at a park near my house, I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world. It’s not everyday that a girl gets her dream guy. Sighing and smiling a happy smile, I closed my eyes as I listened to Royce’s deep voice reading to me today’s headlines and its brief details, contentment and love filling my heart.

It was a year ago when my lucky star smiled on me.

Copyright 2010 © Adlin Zaharah Omar

Olly Buckle
January 27th, 2011, 10:55 AM
A lovely, funny story, I am glad he was man enough to see through to what really counted, I could pick minor nits such as,
"Of course, I wished he would have warned me and gave me more time to prepare myself,"
Which should read,
"Of course, I wished he had warned me and given me more time to prepare myself"
But your overall style is lively and engaging.

January 27th, 2011, 11:12 AM
Thanks, Olly! Good point. I'll make the changes in my original file. Appreciate it ever so much. I've only just realised of the grammatical mistakes for tenses. ack. I'll get right on those as well. - funny that i remembered to update the actress comparison from Carmen Elektra to Megan Fox, but oversaw the more important stuff. :o)

The Blue Pencil
February 3rd, 2011, 01:45 AM
I loved this! Your herione sounds like such a sweetheart, and so does the boy! ;)
This was funny and heartwarming at all the same time, I loved it.

February 3rd, 2011, 03:56 AM
:) Thank you, [Blue Pencil]! Glad you liked it.