#reverse catfish

“Did you at least punch his handsome face?” ready to attack the man tricking you Laura watches you curl into a ball on your couch. She sighs deeply. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault. It was my idea, and now you got hurt.”

“Ransom dared to ask me to join him for dinner. What the fuck is wrong with him, Laura? First, he catfishes me, and then that asshat expects me to have dinner with him.”

“What? Ransom fucking Drysdale asked you out. When did that happen? I thought he would rather jump in front of a train or eat razors than looking at you twice,” Laura wonders aloud as you slowly sit up. You frown as your friend chews on the inside of her cheek. “You told me so, remember?”

“I ran out of the restaurant, and he followed me. He was surprised that I was hurt after what he had done to me,” you bury your face into one of your plush pillows, groaning. “I had hoped there are still nice guys out there only to find out, the only decent guy on that app was a fake.”

“Y/N don’t give up. I promise there are nice guys out there,” Laura gently pats your thigh. “You only need to find them.”

“I’m just so tired of the whole dating thing. You doll up for hours, only to end up with someone talking about his ex, or mom, or himself all the time. If you get lucky he doesn’t get his dick out before your had your dessert.”

“Someone got his dick out before dessert? I want my dessert before seeing dick,” you chuckle at Laura’s serious expression. “Seriously? Why did you never tell me about that dick guy?”

“That was before we knew each other. Shortly after graduation. I was ready to date again and agreed to go for dinner with a friend of a friend or something.”

“How about you let me find you a nice guy? I got this colleague. He’s smart, eloquent, handsome, and single for like a year,” Laura tells you about her colleague, but all you can do is think about Jackson. It feels like you just lost him, even though, he never existed in the first place.

Another party. Another chance for Ransom Drysdale to ruin your night. You barely made it toward the bar before he stood next to you, looking you up and down.

“You never called me back,” he complains loudly. “You wanted to think about having dinner with me.” Ransom almost looks hurt when you turn around to size him up.

“I said that I’ll think about it, and I did. I decided that you are so far from the man I want to have a date with that spending time with you would only mean more wasted time. You had your fun, Drysdale. Congratulations. You made a fool out of me. Now leave me alone.”

“Kitten, don’t be mad at me,” Ransom tries to charm his way into your heart. He flashes you a stunning smile and looks down at you with those baby blue eyes. “It was an awful idea to catfish you. Okay. I learned my lesson.”

“Y-ou!” pointing your finger at Ransom you growl his name. “Are you kidding me? You pretended to be someone else. Jackson talked about his life, books, and love to me. I opened up to a man who doesn’t even exist.”

“We had sex too,” he smirks as you drop your gaze. “Do you remember that night too? You made the cutest noises, and I never came harder.”

“Leave. Me. Alone,” you growl at him. “I don’t care about your dirty fantasies or shit. You hurt me deeply for fun. You’re just like all the other assholes out there. And no, we didn’t have sex. It’s called mutual masturbation.”

“It’s still sex and you enjoyed it as much as I did,” he steps closer to run one hand up and down your arm, tickling your skin. “I told you that Jackson is deep inside of me. Hidden behind my handsome face.”

“You’re such a self-centered narcist. Get it into your thick skull,” you jab two fingers into his sweater-covered chest. “I will never go out with you.”

You turn around and storm off.  “Y/N, wait…” Ransom tries to stop you, but you are gone before he gets the chance to apologize again. He would never admit that he liked talking to you and that he misses your conversations.

“How about that guy?” Laura shows you another guy on Tinder. “I know you are still hurt but you need to get back up and find yourself a nice guy.”

“Drysdale tried to hit on me last week again,” you groan as Laura won’t stop talking about the guys on your app. “Laura, I love you but please just stop. Jackson was enough.”

“Look that guy sent you a message. He looks…well…he’s not the prettiest guy but maybe he’s good in bed.”

“Don’t be like one of those people judging others by their looks,” snatching your phone out of her hands you grunt. You glance at the guy’s profile, smiling as he looks cute to you. “I like his glasses.”

“He’s got no job, Y/N,” Laura points out. “Don’t tell me you want to answer that guy. He’s a loser.”

“He’s kinda cute,” you wrinkle your nose as your friend keeps on talking low about a man she doesn’t even know. “He could’ve lied and pretended he’s a doctor or crap. I’ll answer him…if only to talk to him…”

“Y/N Y/L/N, open the door,” Ransom mutters in front of your door. “I won’t leave this time. Come on, let me in. Can we not talk things out? I know I fucked up.”

“What do you want?” you open the door to glare up at Ransom. “Why won’t you leave me alone? You won. What else do you want?”

“You answered,” he offers a bouquet of roses to you. Ransom huffs as you refuse to take the crimson flowers. “I thought this means you want to see me. Uh-was this a trick?” He pushes the flowers in your arms. “I thought you like me. You talked to me for hours again.”

“What? How do you know about Hugh?” cocking your head you wonder if Ransom tried to trick you again. “What did you do this time?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” while you look at the flowers in your arms, holding back a smile, Ransom gets his phone out to unlock it. “I made a new profile and used my name. I even used an old picture, a not very favorable one.”

“No,” you shake your head. “Not again, Ransom. How can you do this to me? I kinda liked Hugh too. He was easy to talk to.”

“Why are you mad at me? I used my real name,” he points out. “Hugh Thrombey. They wouldn’t let me use Ransom Drysdale as I kinda got banned some years ago…” he sheepishly admits. “I had to use my mother’s birthname. But it’s mine. Look. The photo is an old one, but I didn’t want to use one of my newer ones.”

“You never wore glasses, and the guy on the picture doesn’t look like you.”

“I wear contact lenses, and I told you, it’s an old photo. I was in my twenties and used the wrong filter and crap to look better,” you huff as he steps into your personal space to cup your cheek. “You should’ve recognized the sweater, though.”

“Sweater,” looking at the photo again you wrinkle your forehead. “It’s the blue one. I remember it. You wore it at one of your grandfather’s parties. You had holes in that sweater.”

“See, it’s me. I was honest this time. I wore my glasses, and my old sweater and admitted that I got no job,” he softly says. “I had hoped that if I show you the real Ransom, you’ll agree to go out with me one day.”

“Ransom, I don’t think this is a good idea,” your features soften as he looks down at you, hope in his eyes. “We were at each other’s throat for years.”

“We can change that. Right? I-you. We talked for hours this time too. I didn’t lie. I want to write a book, and make my own money. I love my old sweaters and there is this girl that’s too good for me, but I can’t get her out of my head.”

“Ransom…”

“Give me a chance. Only one, Y/N,” he leans closer to brush his lips over yours.

“One chance.”

He smirks as you open the door wider to invite him in. “I can become your sweater daddy,” he waits for your reaction. You hold back a snort, and choke out a giggle.

“Rule number one,” you boop his nose with your index finger. “If you ever want to have sex with me again, never call yourself daddy.”

“See, you just admitted we did have sex.”

“Come in and close the door, Drysdale. You have a lot to make up to me before I’ll even consider going on a date with you…”