The light broke between Helen’s drawn curtains with a vengeance the next morning. She lifted the comforter over her head to buy her a few more precious minutes before her bladder would urge her to rise.

Whitewashed brick surrounded the young woman to foster a bright and airy aesthetic, a practical solution to design the interior of a studio apartment. But sometimes it felt more like a room in an institution, keeping Helen in her daily routine. This feeling of monotony could only be abated by the various knick-knacks and wall art she collected.

However, after a while, the whimsical household items shaped like cute animals and colorful artwork formed a prison of another sort. It was a cell in her mind, threatening to lock her into an adolescent state. This apartment was only slightly better than her dorm in college. At least her dorm was full of lively people.

Helen had grumbled and complained about her rambunctious co-ed neighbors. She never thought she would miss those louts. Now, in her bed, she only had the sobering noise of car horns blaring in the distance beyond glass, steel, and brick. But remaining sedentary didn’t help her to feel less isolated, neither did the gray confines of her comforter, so she got up.

Refreshed from the bathroom, Helen grabbed a bottled yogurt drink from the fridge and settled in at her desk. Her laptop greeted her with a friendly chime as it too awakened. A long, slow breath released from her lungs as Helen stared at a new blank document. Her eyes trailed up to the tour poster of a band she had loved since high school. She wondered if they had put out any new albums. She had not checked in a while. Helen shook her head. This poster had hung above her desk in college as well and had seen her write many essays and papers. This would be its first time witnessing the drafting of a set of rules for a dating charade.

These instructions would get done before breakfast, Helen promised herself. She wanted it out of her mind before she did anything else today. The night before, she had jotted down the major points she wished to cover. Normally she would want a few more days to sit on it, but with Christmas right around the corner, the instructions had to be sent out as soon as possible. As the taste of blueberries and dairy coated her tongue, she typed.

After a brief reiterated overview of the plan, the first rule she included was that all physical contact was to be initiated by her. While Joaquin did not seem like the type to take advantage, she wanted to make this entirely creep-proof regardless.

The second rule was that when speaking privately with each other, Joaquin could not lie or otherwise give false information that might be detrimental to Helen’s interests and goals in the operation. It was a broad statement, but mainly Helen wanted him to be truthful with her and not have his own plans behind her back. She mulled over the rule, and shrugged. She wasn’t a lawyer so this was as good as she was going to write it.

Helen then proceeded to list additional clauses covering pet names, an informal dress code, conversation topics to avoid with her family, basic etiquette, and in any instance where he’d be unsure of his next move, or forget any of the above, he would have to ask for Helen’s approval first.

Then came the final and most important paragraph stating the operation was all a performance. This would not be a genuine display of feelings or affection. They would not become an item.

This would be ultra creep-proof, Helen thought.

Helen included a brief section at the end, detailing the payment, and requiring her date to abide by the terms listed above. She signed her part of the contract with her laptop’s trackpad. The rest of the yogurt drink flew down her throat.

Helen attached her document to a blank email, and quickly tapped out a greeting in the main body in the pop-up window. She carefully typed Joaquin’s email address, double-checking the spelling. It was some term she was unfamiliar with, followed by two numbers, and was registered to an email service she thought had long shut down. She gulped, fearing that it was a fake address and that she would be out a fake boyfriend for Christmas. But Joaquin seemed very eager, so she sent it anyway.