Felix had always known that Chan’s parents were disgustingly rich, but knowing it and seeing it firsthand were two entirely different things. What Felix didn’t know was that they were rich enough to afford a catering service with starch-pressed waiters carrying champagne flutes on trays so polished you could see your reflection in them. He didn’t know they were rich enough to hire a live string quartet to entertain their guests. And he certainly didn’t know they were rich enough to host public figures Felix had only ever seen on the screen of his old, beat-up television.

This was a world completely alien to him—a world at the absolute opposite end of the spectrum from his leaky apartment and his daily commute on public transport.

If Felix thought he’d feel out of place because he was dressed as a woman, he now realized something new: he felt out of place not just because of that, but because he didn’t belong in this world at all. He felt like a cockroach that had crawled under a door—a creature that shouldn’t be there. He didn’t fit in with these people.

And yet, here he was. And Chan was holding his hand firmly in his.

“You okay?” Chan asked, noticing how tense and silent Felix had become.

“Yeah.”

“Your voice,” Chan reminded him.

Damn it.

Felix had to remember to speak in falsetto, or this charade would crumble before it even got started. He nodded weakly, and then Chan tugged him further into the room. Elegant men and women formed small groups, conversing in low, polite tones. Felix could only catch snippets of their conversations. Business. Portofino. Vineyards in Tuscany. Felix had never spoken any of those words in his life—why would he have?

“Christopher!”

Chan stopped in his tracks. A woman who looked remarkably like him approached them. Felix’s throat tightened. This was Chan’s mother. Chan’s mother.

Oh God.

Felix lowered his face. It had been years since they last saw each other—back in high school—and if God was merciful, she’d never paid enough attention to him to remember who he was. Chan’s grip on his hand tightened, a silent way of saying, Stay calm, don’t panic. Then he turned to his mother and said, “Mom, hey. Great party. You really invited everyone, huh? I’m pretty sure I saw Edward Thompson earlier.”

His mother laughed lightly, resting a delicate hand on Chan’s shoulder. “It’s an important evening. We’re raising funds for an orphanage outside Alberta. We had to invite some entertainment figures to reach our goal.”

Felix thought their goal could probably be reached easily if Chan’s family decided to be particularly generous. But no, it was apparently better to spend extravagantly on this event than to just donate the funds outright. Ah, the sweet contradictions of millionaires—so good-hearted, yet so selfish in their curated generosity.

“And who’s this lovely young lady?” Chan’s mother asked, turning to Felix. Felix forced an awkward smile.

“This is… Lizzie,” Chan said, and Felix immediately turned to look at him. Lizzie? Really? That’s how he was introducing him?

“Lizzie! How delightful! My dear, would you like some champagne?”

“Mom,” Chan cut in, sliding an arm around Felix’s waist. His hand rested on Felix’s hip, pulling him closer. Felix’s heart started pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears. “We were just about to take a little walk. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Oh, no, no! Not at all, dears. Have fun. I’ll see you later,” Chan’s mother said with a wink at Felix before another woman called for her attention and she wandered off. Felix felt like a balloon deflating. Only now did he realize how tense he’d been.

“Holy crap. She must think I’m an idiot. I didn’t say a word, and—”

“Don’t worry,” Chan interrupted. “You know what? Maybe a little alcohol would help you relax.” He raised his hand to flag down a waiter.

“Are you kidding? I have to pretend to be a woman. I need to stay sharp.”

“You’re so tense you look like a thief at a cop convention. People won’t think you’re a man; they’ll think you’re a serial killer planning to blow something up if you keep acting like this. Alcohol will help.”

A waiter approached them. “Sir,” he said, offering the tray. In addition to golden champagne flutes, there were some delicious-looking hors d'oeuvres. Felix reached out and grabbed a salmon canapé while Chan took two glasses of champagne. The waiter gave a small bow before moving on to another guest. Felix bit into the canapé without thinking and then reluctantly took the glass Chan offered him.

“Just one,” Felix said, wrinkling his nose.

“Your voice,” Chan reminded him.

Felix rolled his eyes dramatically. “Just one,” he repeated in a higher, more feminine tone.

“Much better,” Chan said with a satisfied grin before lifting his glass and downing the champagne in a few quick gulps.

Felix gaped. “Are you insane?! You need to stay sharp too!”

“I handle my alcohol just fine,” Chan replied.

“Bullshit. I was with you in high school, remember? By your side at every party. I lost count of how many mornings I spent holding your head while you puked your guts out.”

“How sweet of you to hold onto such precious memories in that blond head of yours.”

Felix muttered something under his breath and took a sip of his own champagne. The stuff was good—really good. He took another sip before Chan suddenly tightened his grip on his arm.

“Come,” Chan said, his tone serious, almost nervous.

Felix didn’t have time to question it before Chan was pulling him toward a dimly lit hallway off the main room.

“What the he—”

Chan was on him.

Felix only realized it when his back hit the wall, and he felt Chan’s chest pressing against his, the heat of him, his breath close. Felix raised his hands to push him away, but Chan caught his wrists, pinning them in place. Felix’s face burned, his heart exploded in his chest, every nerve screaming in alarm. What the hell was happening? What was with this sudden change? What was wrong with this idiot?

“Stay still,” Chan hissed in his ear. “Play along,” he said.

Felix gasped, panicked. Play along? Play what? No one had explained the rules to him!

“W-what—”

Chan’s mouth brushed against his neck, and—God. Felix felt something stir beneath his dress, and that was a disaster of the highest order. Chan’s lips kissed his skin, and Felix let out a muffled gasp. The sound made Chan freeze for a moment. Felix felt him tense, as if second-guessing himself. What did you expect me to do?! Felix thought frantically, turning his head away to avoid his gaze.

And then he saw her.

A girl. Watching them. And she did not look happy.

“Play along,” Chan’s words echoed in his mind.

Play along. Pretend with me. Someone’s watching us. Let’s do this together.

Felix understood. He connected the dots. The bet wasn’t the reason he was here. The bet was just a pretext.

Chan’s teeth scraped against his neck, and whatever spark of excitement had ignited in Felix died instantly.

The only reason Felix was here…
Was to put on a show.
And make her jealous.