Summary
Belle French and Nicholas Gold meet in a small cafe and bond over their shared frustration in searching for accommodation (he has been kicked out by now ex-wife Milah, she is desperate to escape her down-and-out life), and gradually form a friendship. Just when all seems lost, they stumble upon what seems to be a perfect place – trouble is, it is listed as being for a 'professional couple' only. Thus begins a complicated plan involving faked photos and memorizing every significant (and not-so-significant) fact about each other to pass themselves off as a long term couple in order to fool Ginny Lucas, their prospective landlady. To their surprise, it works.
Warning Characters will be very OOC
Spaced
It was a busy day in Granny's Café, the woman thought carrying her cup of tea looking for a place to sit. All the tables seemed to be full of people, except for one in the back which only sat one man. Making her way over to the booth, she cleared her throat to grab the man's attention.
"Excuse me." The man ignored her, still engrossed in thought, sipping at his tea. Giving a huff she tried again a little louder "Excuse me." This grabbed the man's attention, "May I sit here?" she motioned to the seat across from him. The man glanced at her again dismissing her with a wave. Ignoring his rudeness she plopped into the seat, pulling out the classified section of the paper, to the apartment ads.
The man looked at the woman sitting across from her quickly glancing at what she was reading in the paper. "What are you looking for?" he asked. "Flat hunting." She sighed "I'm taking control of my life. Moving out on my own, you know. I'm 26 I think it's high time to stop living with my father."
Nodding the man smirked "Ugh I hate flat hunting. I do not envy you." Smile falling he looked down at her paper again. "Can I borrow that when you're done?"
And thus begins their journey. Every day they meet at Granny's. Some days they search the papers for a perfect apartment for one of them. Some days they just talk about random things. Some days they don't even talk at all. Day after day this pattern continued until the woman just couldn't take it anymore
Slamming her cup down he startle the man who was starting to doze bent over the paper. "I can't do this anymore" she cried. "Come on deari…" the man tried to calm her down. "No! Every morning I wake up and it's the same. I get up and I buy the paper, and I circle them all, and I phone them only to discover they've been taken by a bunch of fucking psychic house hunters. "
"Well you've got to keep a level head." He tried to reason, wincing as he watched the woman slam her head down on the paper. She continued to cry when she glanced at an ad. "Oh wait here's one." Turning the paper towards him she wiped her eyes as he read aloud "2 bed, 1 bath furnished apartment. $150 a week." It sounded a little too good to be true, as he finally spotted the problem "Professional Couples Only." The woman broke out in tears again.
"Hey dearie, come on. You can think of something. You've got any single guy friends looking for an apartment?" Sniffling and wiping her nose the woman nodded slightly "Well I do know one guy." She glanced at him. He noticed her hopeful gaze and looked confused "Who?" then he noticed what her hopeful gaze was directed at… him.
"Born in Glasgow to Colin and Julia Gold on the 17th September 1974, you have a little sister named Katie, who once used all your books to decorate a cart; unable to salvage the book you drove the cart into the pond which is where you damaged your ankle. You moved to the States in 1983. Where you met your best friend called Jefferson who is a weapons expert? You're a lawyer and hoped to one day open your own firm, but that hasn't worked out yet. You work at a pawn shop." The woman was laying out answers to questions she thought they might get, while the walked down the street.
"I'll have you know I am Assistant Manager of that pawn shop." The man supplied.
"Oh," pulling out a note book she wrote this new piece of information down, "And how many people work under you?"
"None, it's just me and Zoso."
"And who's Zoso?"
"The manager."
Clearing her throat the woman continued "You're preferred mode of transportation is walking. You recently split up with your wife Milah, after she cheated on you with your friend Killian Jones."
"He is not my friend" the man growled.
"Okay, well we don't have to talk about that sorry. You prefer the tight legged cotton pant as opposed to the boxer."
"Why would you need to know that." He looked at her as if she was insane.
"Well you never know, they might ask personal questions. Now come on do mine."
"Okay you were born in Melbourne to Moe and Emily French in 1987. You graduated from Kingston University with a third in Writing in 2009. You want to be a writer, but can't figure out what to write,"
"Well once I figure it out it will be brilliant!" she nudged his shoulder for him to continue.
"Your best friend is Emma and she works in fashion. Also known as a laundry mat." He muttered the last part under his breath. "You have no skincare routine to speak of and you are scared of mice and spiders, but oh so much greater is your fear that one day the two will merge to form a powerful race of mice spiders who will immobilize people in webs in order to steal our cheese."
"I never said that."
"Yeah, but that would've been good." Their journey stopped as the approached the outside of the pawn shop where he worked.
"Well I think that about covers it." She said holding her hand out "I'm Belle."
"Nick." He replied grasping her hand and shaking it.
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