Of Fake Fairytales and Faux Amour - Chapter 19
Fastest update ever, amirite?
Thank you llamaramauk for betaing as always!
Title: Of Fake Fairytales and Faux Amour
Authors: Lyrical Rawr & Shiva
Pairing: Fake!? Phoenix/Edgeworth
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Humor/Romance
Warnings: Swearing, possible SPOILERS for GS1 and 2
Status: Complete
Word count (Ch.19): 6359
Summary: Miles desperately needs a way to get rid of an unwanted admirer, and what better way is there than to pretend to date his very male, straight best friend and rival? It sounded so foolproof in his head...
Chapter 1 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 21
Chapter 2 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 17
Chapter 3 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 18
Chapter 4 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 19
Chapter 5 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 20
Of Fake Fairytales and Faux Amour
-- Chapter 19 --
The Cherry on Top of the Grape Vine
Miles stared at the steering wheel of his car. Peace and welcome thoughtlessness for a rare few minutes. It didn’t last, however - the thoughts came back as quickly as they had left him, and he pulled down the car’s visor to check his reflection. After feeling awful for most of the day yesterday, exhaustion had finally overcome him and he’d experienced some sleep. He now looked almost back to normal, the only glaring issue being his emotionless gaze.
Hopefully no one will notice.
Miles flipped the visor back up. Time to go to work.
He had arrived slightly later than usual, and so the walk from the parking lot to the reception was littered with his colleagues. Some of them looked at him with an excited awe, others with notable disdain. He didn’t care about either, being more than used to both reactions. One huddle of prosecutors did start whispering fervently as he walked past, which was a little less common, but otherwise, it was a normal start to the day. That completely juxtaposed with the way Miles felt, making the air seem a little thinner and his head lighter. He spotted Gumshoe at the reception desk and made his way over.
“…I don’t know, pal, Mr. Edgeworth didn’t tell me why,” Gumshoe was saying, shrugging and not yet noticing Miles.
“There’s been all sorts of rumours,” Spencer replied from behind the desk, looking eager. “It must be something big, especially after his behaviour the last month.”
“Behaviour?” Gumshoe scratched his head.
Spencer pulled her chair closer. “You haven’t noticed him leaving early? And spacing out way more than usual? Everyone’s talking about it!”
“Actually, now that you mention it…”
God. That man can be slow.
“Detective,” Miles announced from behind, making both Gumshoe and Spencer jump in their conspiratorial positions. “Miss Spencer,” he then added, nodding her way.
“M-Mr. Edgeworth, sir!” Gumshoe stammered, standing to attention. “Glad to see you’re looking okay!”
“Yes,” Spencer added, removing her hand from where it had shot up to her heart in surprise, “we feared it may have been a long-term illness, something really bad. But since it’s only been a day…” She trailed off, looking at him expectantly.
Great. Maybe I should have taken more time off to make it look normal…
He shuddered at the thought. No, stewing and bumbling around at home was not a particularly attractive option.
“Thank you both, I am quite well,” Miles replied, hoping they didn’t pick up on how flat he sounded. Not that he was normally a lively person. He glanced down at the stack of paperwork Gumshoe was holding. “I trust these are the final documents for the casino case?” he asked, avoiding looking at Spencer. She was the head honcho when it came to wrangling rumours; the less ammunition he gave her, the better.
“Erm, yeah, sir.” Gumshoe pointed at the stack. “I filled out all I could, but there’s still some left. I can pass it over to another prosecutor, if you want?”
I take one day off and suddenly I can’t do my job anymore?
Miles bristled. “Nonsense. Take them up to my office.”
Gumshoe froze, nodded, then scuttled away.
I’ll be having words about that one.
Shaking his head, Miles glanced over at Spencer. Was there anything he could say to make the rumours run at a slower pace?
Franziska is in the country, so I could make up some sort of family emergency…
“Have a good day, Miss Spencer,” he said instead, letting the wheel turn on that rumour mill. No one would guess the real reason. Besides, he sometimes enjoyed listening to the ridiculous tales people came up with to explain his life. They weren’t always as ruthless as the ones from the media.
He made his way to the stairs and climbed. Although he made the effort every day, walking up all twelve floors was still a workout, so Miles arrived at the top slightly breathless. He peeked down the corridor and noted that Everett’s door was closed. Good. That meant she hadn’t arrived yet, so there was no risk of running into her.
After quickly striding over to his office, Miles entered to find Gumshoe playing with his tea set, the stack of documents lying on his desk.
“You don’t want to know how much money would come out of your paycheck if you damage that,” Miles commented, making Gumshoe gingerly place the teacup down with both hands.
“Heh, sorry, sir. Ms. von Karma told me about your teapots and I wondered why you never made me tea.” Gumshoe took a step back from the tea set, rubbing the back of his head. “Guess I know now.”
There are so many reasons.
Miles sat down at his desk and grabbed the top document, turning on his laptop at the same time. “Yes, well, I don’t offer for your wage’s sake.” He glanced over at Gumshoe, who hadn’t moved. “Thank you for the files. You’re free to go.”
The words came out a little more curt than Miles had intended. Unfortunately, social etiquette was not really his first concern when his mind was buzzing with useless feelings and emotions. But no matter, he was here to work, not socialise. He shook his head and opened the file.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Gumshoe hovering, not making any move to leave. Miles tried to ignore him, looking as engrossed as he could in the file titled ‘Defendant Information’.
None of these words are going in…
He sighed and closed the file, before rubbing his temples. “What is it, Detective?”
Gumshoe dashed in front of Miles’ desk and held up both hands. “Okay, look, sir. I’m worried about you.”
Miles raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Don’t be absurd.”
“You’re being so cranky this morning.” Gumshoe paused. “Even more than usual, I’d say!”
“I am not cranky.” Miles had always hated that word. “I’m simply not in the mood for my colleagues doubting my ability to work unaided.”
Sad does not equal cranky.
“But, sir, you took a day off!” Gumshoe frowned. “And, I’m sorry for saying this, but you don’t look great.”
Is this what I’ve been reduced to? A man who prides himself on his scruffy coat lecturing me about how put together I am?
Miles glared at Gumshoe with all the sternness he could muster. He took pride in his unfriendly looks; they were designed to stop people from being so nosy. Today, though, Gumshoe seemed to blossom in response rather than wither.
I really must be quite ill…
“If you’re still not feeling good, you shouldn’t be in work, sir,” Gumshoe scolded, wagging his finger at Miles.
Miles scoffed. “You may deem me less than my usual appearance today, but I am obviously not sick,” he replied coldly, before flipping the file open again. “I trust you are finished insulting me?”
“Just because it’s not a physical illness doesn’t mean you’re healthy, sir. Your brain needs looking after too.”
Although clumsy and hapless, Gumshoe seemed to understand the human psyche better than Miles could ever dream to. People were such a mystery - a bunch of lofty emotions not tied to enough weighty logic for him to grasp. When he thought he’d finally figured it all out, he had in fact been at the furthest point from understanding, his emotions completely devoid of their rational anchor.
“Thank you, Detective.” After a notable pause, Miles looked up at him again. “I… I really do appreciate the sentiment, but believe me when I say that here is the best place for me to be right now.”
Gumshoe studied his face, then nodded. “I believe you, sir.” He pointed a finger at Miles. “Next time, don’t get me all worried and whatnot! Just let me know. I’ve heard all sorts of weird rumours at the precinct about your day off.” He scratched his chin. “You don’t actually have a dog, do you?”
For God’s sake. What is it with everyone and this make-believe dog?
“Indeed not. Am I allowed to do my job now?” Miles asked dryly.
Gumshoe laughed loudly, his whole body shaking. “That’s the spirit, sir! You’re sounding better already.”
Wittiness apparently does equal healthy.
Gumshoe chuckled to himself on the way out, the sound reverberating in the corridor.
I certainly wasn’t expecting a mental health checkup from my subordinate today, but it does seem to have helped.
Miles felt a little more ready to face the day. It appeared his time off had been the correct choice, and now, his short conversation with Gumshoe had encouraged him to get his head down and do what he did best.
Could have closed the bloody door, though.
He sighed, got up from his desk and crossed the room. Reaching for the handle, Miles took a quick glance up the corridor and immediately regretted it.
“Oh my God, Miles!”
Faster than lightning, he shut the door with an audible slam. He winced and leaned against his hand on the handle.
Shit.
Then came the expected frantic knocking and muffled “Miles!” from the other side. He removed his hand as if it had been burnt and stepped back a couple of paces.
There goes my chance at normality. Only one thing for it…
I’ll escape out the window.
Unfortunately, his daring prison break was not to be. The door was thrust open and Kath Everett marched in looking extremely flustered.
“Miles! Are you okay!? You haven’t actually resigned to become a full-time taxidermist, have you!?”
“W-what!?” Miles didn’t even know where to start being offended at that comment.
“Georgie Spencer said someone saw your resignation on the Chief Prosecutor’s desk and that someone else knows your favourite hobby is taxidermy! Naturally, she put two and two together and--”
“Everett, what on Earth are you doing barging into my office and accusing me of such nonsense?”
Kath seemed to calm down slightly. “Huh. I guess that one was a little implausible.” She put her hands on her hips. “Please tell me the rumours about you having a brain tumour and three months to live are not true? My poor heart couldn’t handle that one…”
Christ. Who thinks of these? Morbid doesn’t even start to cover it!
“For the thousandth time today, I am physically healthy,” Miles replied, annoyed.
Kath hummed and pointed down at his crotch. “So you didn’t go and get a prosthetic fitted for your dick?”
Miles looked at her incredulously.
“And your hair is the same, so you didn’t bleach it or get a bad haircut.”
That one is at least mildly humorous.
“Wait, wait…” Kath tapped her foot, hands still on her hips. “You didn’t accidentally end up in the same strip club as the Paynes and nearly get fired, did you?”
Miles rolled his eyes. “Please don’t make us all ill by envisioning that.”
Kath snapped her fingers. “Well, at least I know the most popular theory is wrong and that it’s not because you broke up with your girlfriend.” She winked and giggled.
Miles’ jaw tightened and he crossed his arms. He had been wrong; the rumours were definitely not entertaining.
The expression on Kath’s face suddenly turned somber. “Oh, no, Miles… He didn’t, did he?”
I really need to work on my poker face.
“I would appreciate it if you’d leave now,” Miles replied.
Kath brought her hands up to her mouth. She turned around and closed the door, before walking up to Miles and pulling him into a hug.
“Hng… Everett, what are you doing?” Miles protested, his arms moving helplessly by his sides.
Kath squeezed him tighter and he heard her sniff.
Christ, my jacket better not be soaked through…
“Everett,” Miles repeated. No answer. “Kath, are you alright?”
“What!?” Kath pushed away and looked up at him, wiping away a tear. “Am I okay? What happened with Mr. Wright? Are you okay?”
…Why is she crying?
Forget lofty emotions, these reactions from his colleagues today were from another planet. Was Miles seriously the weird one for not understanding them?
“I think you know me well enough to know that I don’t particularly want to talk about it,” Miles said. He turned around and made his way back to his desk to sit down.
Kath invited herself further into the room, a sad look on her face as she took a seat on the sofa. “I also know you probably should,” she replied, scooting forward to sit on the edge of the cushion. “I’m honestly not trying to be nosy! I care about you both.” She glanced at the floor for a second, before looking back up at him. “Okay, maybe I’m being a little nosy…”
I wouldn’t expect any less.
Miles opened his top drawer and pulled out his box of tissues. Leaning over, he offered them to Kath, who thanked him before taking three to wipe her eyes and blow her nose. Miles took one for himself and dabbed the small wet spot that Kath had made on his newly dry-cleaned jacket.
Tears don’t stain, do they?
“I don’t know what you’re expecting me to say, Everett.” Miles gave up on the dabbing and took off his jacket - the thought of wearing a stained piece of clothing made him cringe. Plus it was warm today anyway. He didn’t need it.
Kath tutted as she dabbed her eye with a tissue. “You always try so hard to repress those emotions of yours!” She waved her free hand. “Come on, you never take sick days. Mr. Wright must have done something really bad.” She stared at him expectantly, almost as if she knew something he didn’t.
It wasn’t him who did something bad…
“I… well…” Miles looked away. “We broke up.”
“That much I got.”
Miles sighed. “There’s nothing else to explain. We’re no longer together, never will be again. That’s that.”
That’s that…
He needed tea. He made his way over to his set and offered to Kath, out of manners, but she shook her head. Using his favourite strainer, he prepared a cup of matcha green tea, a fine leaf provided by the Gatewater Hotel that was imported from Japan. Invigorating and good for a focused mind.
After a few minutes of silence while the tea brewed, Kath piped up. “Okay, I see you’ve… uh… come to terms with this.” She shifted around on the sofa. “But why? You really like him!”
Miles let his head drop to look down at his cup, hair falling around his face. He didn’t need reminding of his stupidity.
“Oh.” Kath cleared her throat. “I mean you really, really like him. And, well, it’s super obvious that Mr. Wright adores you!”
“I would argue against that line of reasoning, considering the circumstances,” Miles retorted. He hoped it didn’t come across as bitter; everything he said today sounded so empty.
“Don’t be silly,” Kath replied. “I’m not just talking about PDAs and sex. It’s the way he looks at you and talks about you, y’know? Even in front of people who don’t know you’re da--erm, were dating.”
So he’s managed to confuse you too. I suppose us fools only see what we want to see.
After removing the strainer and cleaning away the pulp, Miles took the cup of matcha back to his desk and sat down. “Everett, I don’t think this is what I need to hear right now.”
Kath gave him an apologetic look. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I just…” She trailed off. Something seemed to be on her mind. “Oh God, don’t hate me, but… is this because of that girl?”
That girl?
Miles frowned. “What?”
Kath shifted again, looking even more nervous. “Is the reason you’ve broken up because of Mr. Wright’s inability to deal with his sexuality?”
Christ. Everett is never one to beat around the proverbial bush, or keep her nose out of it.
Where did she get that idea from?
He picked up his cup and inhaled, enjoying the aroma, before taking a sip. “It’s… multifaceted.”
“Oh, no!” Kath’s outburst made him jump slightly. “You didn’t know, did you?”
Miles’ frown deepened. This was getting more confusing by the second.
Kath leaned forward and put her hand on the desk. “I saw him. With a girl. I didn’t tell you because he made it sound like it was nothing and… Oh, I’m such an idiot!”
A girl…
Come to think of it, Maya had said something about Wright having a girlfriend, but Wright had denied it. Had he lied to him?
Miles didn’t know how to respond, or even how to feel about such news. He took another sip of his tea, trying to sort it all out in his head. How he wished he didn’t feel like the most incompetent man on the planet right now.
Kath took her hand away from the desk. Her eyes were full of pity, another thing Miles hated.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Miles said, shaking his head. “Wright and I simply weren’t meant to be. I had hoped…” He looked away. “I… had never experienced something like this before. It will take time to get over, but I will manage.”
“You’re right! Screw him!” Kath slammed a hand down on his desk. “If he can’t see what an amazing thing you both had, he doesn’t deserve happiness. But you totally do! There’s so many pretty male fishies in the sexy, stormy sea of dating!”
So much for avoiding those clichés.
But she really is trying to help.
Miles took another sip. “Thank you, Everett.” He twisted the cup round on the saucer. “And thank you also for not being untoward, now that I’m single.”
Kath laughed. “Are you kidding? Miles, you’re so obviously gay! When I met Mr. Wright, I understood instantly.”
“What?” Miles frowned. “But what about… You kept--”
“Hah! I only flirted with you ‘cause it was hilarious to see your face, you prude! You fell for it every time and it was so much fun.” Kath laughed again. “I’m so sorry! Don’t get me wrong, though. You’re hot and I had a massive crush before I knew, but I prefer straight guys.”
Miles blinked.
Does that mean the whole fake relationship was a complete waste of time?
Does that mean I could have avoided all those dates and never ended up in this mess of a situation?
“R-really!?” Miles leaned back in his chair. “But Larry seemed adamant that you didn’t think my relationship with Wright was serious.”
“Larry?” Kath frowned. “I’ve barely spoken to him about you.” She laughed. “Don’t tell me Larry was setting me up as some crazed woman trying to turn a gay guy.”
When something smells…
Miles rubbed his temple. He had been thoroughly outplayed.
What was his angle in all of this? Damn that man.
“Yes, well, he has always been keen on the two of us being more… obvious. He’s not a fan of the secrecy.”
Just you wait until I see him again…
“I guess he was trying to encourage your relationship,” Kath said brightly, before grimacing. “Ugh, what am I saying? Mr. Wright is a disgraceful player. I always knew there was something off about him, you know? I’m in two minds about giving him a stern talking to!”
“Please don’t,” Miles interjected. The thought of Kath berating Wright made him feel guilty. Sure, Wright hadn’t reacted in the best way, but he hadn’t done anything wrong. “He’s not the only one at fault. I kept something important from him and I… made assumptions about our relationship.” Miles took a sip of tea, avoiding Kath’s gaze. “I’ve let him down more than he’s let me down.”
“What do you mean?” Kath pouted. “This sucks. It doesn’t feel right! I know I’m not getting the full story. You two were so… dreamy.”
Looks like we’ve officially outdone the word ‘cute’.
“Yes, well.” Miles didn’t know what else to say. ‘Dreamy’ was not exactly the word he’d use to describe his relationship with Wright - at the moment, it was more akin to a nightmare. Before this whole thing, he’d been perfectly content living without having to think about romance or relationships, never mind his sexuality. But of course, Wright had to ruin everything by making him feel wanted and secure, by making him smile and laugh. By being so frustratingly attractive, both inside and out.
And now, because of his own stupidity, Miles had even less than he had started with.
“God, I can’t believe you hotties aren’t together anymore.” Kath sighed and shook her head. “I’m just so sad about all that amazing sex that could have been, now going to waste.”
…And there’s the Kath we all know and just about tolerate. I should have known she was being far too sensible.
“Oooh!” Kath snapped her fingers. “Now that you’re sad and single, you should come visit me in Italy!”
Miles frowned. “I thought you said you weren’t serious about flirting with me.”
Kath rolled her eyes. “Not like that, silly. I can be your wingwoman!” She clasped her hands together and beamed at him. “You can be the dutiful gay best friend and we can find ourselves a pair of Italian stallions! It’ll be just like the movies!”
I’d almost forgotten about her taste in films…
“I’ll… consider it,” Miles lied. He had no intention of trying to find someone else. Right now, he didn’t even feel like he could have feelings for anyone else. However, escaping to Europe was a tempting idea. Just certainly not with Everett.
Besides, I’d have to be insane to willingly endure Everett swooning over all the poor Mediterranean men.
“Of course, there’s no rush,” Kath said, waving her hand. “I know it’ll take you a while to get over him. Believe me, I’ve been there a couple of times.” Her eyes welled up with tears again. “Oh, Miles. I’m so sorry you had to experience heartbreak. It’s the worst.”
I guess I feel slightly sorry for her.
Miles finished his tea and raised the cup. “To never experiencing heartbreak, ever again,” he mock toasted.
Kath giggled, wiping away at her eyes. “And to keep on keeping on, you trooper!” She got up from the couch and Miles followed suit, relieved to finally be coming to the end of what seemed to be a strange, misguided pep talk. “I need to get to work, but call me if you need someone to vent to. Especially if it’s about something lewd.” She winked.
What is it with everyone wanting me to talk to them when I feel awful?
“Have a good day, Everett,” Miles replied, seeing her to the door. “And if I don’t see you again before you leave, I hope your trip to Italy goes smoothly.”
“I’m positive it will,” Kath said, smiling. “But I’ll definitely be seeing you again before I leave! Bye, Miles! Feel better!” She waved and left the room.
And with that, Miles was alone again.
I’m starting to wonder which is the lesser of two evils: listening to my own thoughts or being bombarded by other people’s.
Instead of sitting at his desk, Miles took a stack of documents over to the couch. It amazed him how much the legal system still relied on printed words, but it did have the advantage of not having to stare at a computer screen all day. Comfort was something Miles always strived for. He leaned back into the plush cushioning and opened the top file again.
-Knock knock-
Why do I even bother?
Miles resisted the urge to smack the pile of folders to the floor. It was a most undignified thought - surely no one could ever cope with the unorganised chaos dropped files would create. Instead, he let out a sharp breath of frustration and got up to go open the door.
A delivery lady stood there with a large bouquet of flowers, along with a medium-sized package. “Mr. Edgeworth, sir! Glad to see you’re looking well.”
For Christ’s sake. Even the logistical staff knows about my day off?
“Yes, yes, I’m fine, thank you.” Miles indicated at the bouquet and package. “This is the standard, I take it?”
“Yup!” The delivery lady handed over the gifts, before taking a gigantic envelope out of her messenger bag. “Although, the card is a little more, err, verbose than usual.”
Surely not possible.
“If you could relay my thanks to the sender, as usual,” Miles said from behind a large carnation that was partially blocking his view.
“Sure, Mr. Edgeworth!” She nodded. “Just to add, we in the parcel office like your hair the way it is. So glad you haven’t changed it!”
I just appreciate that’s the rumour she chose.
“Don’t worry, I don’t intend to.”
She waved goodbye and Miles managed to close the door while balancing everything in one arm.
He changed the old flowers on his windowsill for the new ones and opened the package that came with them. It was a deluxe Evil Magistrate figurine and a pack of cured ham. Disregarding the weirdness of the ham, Miles sat at his desk and meticulously studied the figurine. The attention to detail was exquisite. Whoever had designed the model must have been a fan as they had used the original red markings on the Magistrate’s mask. He walked back to the window and carefully placed the Evil Magistrate next to the Steel Samurai, admiring how their opposing stances made them look as though they were in the middle of an epic battle.
It almost makes being stalked worth it…
He opened the envelope and braced himself for the onslaught of words that usually accompanied Oldbag’s gifts.
‘Dearest Edgey-poo,
Here is one of my favourite figurines - I got a ton of them from the studio as part of my send-off. His pose really reminds me of the forever missed Jack Hammer. Ah, back in the good old days, when people weren’t constantly getting murdered. But I guess if the young whippersnappers nowadays weren’t a bunch of murdering delinquents, we wouldn’t have our favourite prosecutor to lock them away, would we? Speaking of whippersnappers, I caught one jumping in front of me to get on the bus the other day. I am a pensioner! Can’t those young punks have some respect and let me enjoy my free bus rides in peace!?’
Miles shook his head. That woman. She rambled on about the bus journey for another paragraph.
‘But I digress. I am mainly writing to make sure that my Edgey-poo is feeling tip-top! Rumour has it that you were feeling ill so I thought I’d better check that it’s nothing serious. Or maybe they’ve finally cast you as a superhero and you’ve been going to the studio to practice your lines.’
Miles reread the last sentence a few times.
Superhero Miles Edgeworth… I could have a prosecutor pickaxe. Or even a lawyer lance.
…Ahem.
‘However, I’ve also heard rumours that you may be courting, and that your poor little heart has been broken. DON’T FALL FOR THOSE VIXENS, EDGEY-POO! They’re all out to get you for what they can, now that divorce is fine and dandy. If you need someone to talk to, don’t hesitate to call!
Wendy’
Miles politely added the card to the trash once he was done, but kept the tag attached to the bouquet. He decided that was enough etiquette to be allowed to keep the presents.
I still don’t get the ham… Must be an old wives’ tale.
He eyed his door, daring it to make a noise. When it surprisingly didn’t, he gathered his folders from the couch and went to set everything up at his desk again. The couch had been too informal; this way, he could get his work done more efficiently. Considering all the interruptions so far this morning, it seemed the wiser choice.
Just as he opened that same top file to finally start working, an email notification popped up on his computer screen. He debated not opening it, knowing he could ignore it for a couple of hours without raising suspicion. Then again, it wasn’t as if he’d even started on the massive pile of paperwork sitting in front of him. He clicked the pop-up.
‘Little brother,
What is this I hear about a new hairstyle? Don’t tell me you’ve done something foolish.
Franziska von Karma’
Franziska’s emails always ended with a massive footnote that detailed all her accomplishments, such as her Queen Prosecutor award from Düsseldorf. Miles noted that she’d gained an extra accolade since last time: apparently, she was now in the top 10 of the Scariest International Prosecutors, a list compiled by the Defence Attorneys’ Association of the United States. He clicked the link and scowled when he saw that he had only just scraped top 20. Surely it was because he was barely still recognised as international. He clicked back to his inbox to type his reply.
‘Franziska,
You know why I was away from the office. Stop being a gossip.
Miles’
Miles used a more modest footnote that detailed his job description and work address in a sophisticated, maroon font. Screen text should be just as stylish as the written word.
It only took a few moments to get a response.
‘I do NOT gossip!
I investigate the office politics.’
Miles chuckled slightly at that. He could tell she was getting defensive because she had forgotten to include their names, as she normally would when emailing.
‘Franziska,
Don’t whip the rumour millers, they only get paid by the hour to keep it spinning.
Miles’
He knew that reply would annoy her.
As if on cue, his cellphone started ringing.
That’ll be her complaining.
Miles picked up his phone and answered it with a smirk. “Fine, you’re not a gossip. But before you ask, the rumours about taxidermy and prosthetics are not true either.”
“Um… Edgeworth? Am I still drunk?”
Miles startled and dropped the phone, which landed on the desk with a clatter. He stared at it for a few seconds, just then noticing the caller ID, before hastily picking it back up. “Wright?”
“Oof. Nope, definitely not drunk anymore. That crash made my head ring like a bell.”
“You’ve called,” Miles said, stating the obvious like a moron.
“Yeah,” Phoenix replied softly. “Sorry it took me so long.”
Miles didn’t know what to say. After almost two days, he’d given up on Wright calling him. After all, what even remained to be said? Wright had tried to mend their friendship and Miles had misunderstood. End of story.
“You still there?” Phoenix asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Yes, sorry,” Miles replied. “I just… I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I was just wondering how you’re holding up. I didn’t… well… The way I reacted, that was wrong, and I’m sorry.”
There it was, the apology Miles had been hoping for, but he found it did little to make him feel better. If anything, it simply confirmed that Wright hadn’t miraculously had a change of heart.
“Look, Edgeworth,” Phoenix continued when Miles didn’t respond. “I don’t know how this happened, but… I don’t want to lose you as a friend. I want to keep spending time with you, but if you--” He cut himself off and sighed. “Look, I’m just… I don’t like men. I wish I did, but I don’t.”
“You wish you did?” Miles repeated, raising an eyebrow. That was a strange thing to say.
“Well, I mean…” Phoenix sounded sheepish. “If you were a woman, I’d totally date you.”
Miles rolled his eyes.
Of course, he goes straight to jokes.
“Very funny, Wright.”
“No, I’m serious!” Phoenix protested. “You’re my closest friend. It would’ve made things so much easier if you were a girl.”
Miles frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well… I haven’t really had the best luck relationship-wise, so if you were a girl and you confessed to me, well…”
“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Miles blurted out without thinking. Wright had denied it before, but both Maya and Everett had mentioned it in less than a week. It couldn’t have been a coincidence.
The pause that followed was enough of an answer.
“Err, well…” Phoenix hesitated. “She’s not really my girlfriend. Not yet, anyways. I mean, she’s not even my type so--”
“Wright,” Miles interrupted. “There’s no need to justify yourself. I’ll live. I just don’t understand why you felt the need to hide it.”
Especially since everything was make-believe to him.
“I was going to tell you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, first.”
“I’m fine,” Miles replied, feeling anything but fine. “I managed almost twenty-six years without a relationship. I can do it again.”
Phoenix hummed weakly and there was a short pause before he spoke again. “How did you find out?”
“Everett told me.”
“What?” Phoenix sounded surprised.
“She said she saw you with her,” Miles explained.
“At the salon?”
Miles blinked.
Don’t tell me…
“You’re dating the woman from Larry’s workplace?”
“I’m not dating her,” Phoenix said, sounding oddly defensive. “I mean, yeah, I have a date with her tomorrow night, but we’re not dating.”
Miles frowned. “I’m pretty sure that’s the definition of dating, Wright.”
“You know what I mean.”
No, I really don’t.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, either. The fact remained that Wright had chosen that woman over him. It shouldn’t have been surprising, considering Wright was straight, except Wright had been adamant that he wasn’t interested in her. Had he been lying? If so, why? Was he embarrassed about his tastes? Did he want Miles to believe he had a chance?
No, Wright wasn’t that cruel. He had been genuinely shocked to find out about Miles’ feelings - he definitely hadn’t broken his heart on purpose. On the contrary, it seemed as though he still felt guilty about it.
“I’m sorry, Edgeworth,” Phoenix added suddenly, as if he’d read his mind.
Miles sighed. “Stop apologising. Your personal life is none of my business.”
“I know, but… I dunno, this feels wrong for some reason.”
Miles rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Wright… I know you feel guilty about what happened, but I assure you, it was entirely my fault.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Phoenix argued. “I’m the one who made you spend time with me, and I kept pretending to flirt with you and--”
“Wright,” Miles cut in sharply. “You didn’t make me do anything. I spent time with you because I wanted to.”
“Well, yeah, but you only wanted to because you thought I liked you!”
Miles opened his mouth to retort, but closed it when nothing came out. What could he even say to that? It was true. Before he realised his feelings, spending time with Wright - as grateful as Miles was to him - had felt like a waste of time. Time he’d rather have spent working. But afterwards, the prospect of something more, as scary as it was, had made him want to spend more and more time with Wright, to the point where he couldn’t even focus on his work.
“…Edgeworth?”
“Why… How is that your fault?” Miles asked, tracing a finger along the edge of his desk.
Phoenix sighed on the other end. “I already told you. I gave you the wrong impression.”
Miles scoffed. “I should have been smart enough to know you weren’t serious. It was pretty clear from the start that you liked women. I just… saw what I wanted to see.”
There was silence for a moment until Phoenix spoke again.
“Look. We could argue all day, but I won’t feel any less shitty about it. Okay, you misunderstood, but you wouldn’t have if I didn’t make all those stupid jokes.”
“It wasn’t just the jokes, Wright!” Miles snapped. “You called me just to talk, you bought me my favorite tea, you let the barista believe that we were dating, you acted as if Everett was there even when she wasn’t…”
“That’s not true!”
Miles ignored him and continued. “You got premiere tickets for the Steel Samurai, you spent your whole day off with me while I was investigating, and then you invited me over to your place, sat right next to me and put your hand on my back while--”
“That was an accident!” Phoenix cut in again.
“You mean like how kissing me was an accident?”
Phoenix huffed. “You know what? Fuck you. I called to apologise because I felt bad, but really?” He let out a wry laugh. “I was trying really hard to be friends again, and you fucking knew that, but instead, you’re like, ‘Oh, let’s not tell Wright that I’m in love with him and let him think that I finally understand how friendship works.’”
Miles scowled. “That is not--”
“Shut up, Edgeworth. You can’t tell me it’s your fault and then go on a fucking rant about all those things I supposedly did. You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
I beg to differ.
“Enlighten me, then.”
Phoenix scoffed. “There’s no point. You never listen, anyway.”
Neither do you.
“Oh, and by the way,” Phoenix added, “I gave the tickets to Maya and Pearls. I was gonna go with you, because, you know, that’s what friends do, but there’s no way I was gonna watch that crap by myself.”
Miles tightened his jaw. He wasn’t going to rise to the bait.
“Good for them,” he replied as casually as possible. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do.”
“How shocking.”
“Goodbye, Wright.”
The line went dead.
Miles stared at his phone. What had just happened? Had their friendship just ended? Just like that? He’d heard of unrequited feelings ruining everything, but how could sixteen years of friendship end with a simple phone call?
Who am I kidding? We weren’t friends for that long. We could have been, but I was too much of a coward to reply to his letters.
Miles laughed at the realisation.
Maybe I do need to learn how friendship works.
Thank you llamaramauk for betaing as always!
Title: Of Fake Fairytales and Faux Amour
Authors: Lyrical Rawr & Shiva
Pairing: Fake!? Phoenix/Edgeworth
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Humor/Romance
Warnings: Swearing, possible SPOILERS for GS1 and 2
Status: Complete
Word count (Ch.19): 6359
Summary: Miles desperately needs a way to get rid of an unwanted admirer, and what better way is there than to pretend to date his very male, straight best friend and rival? It sounded so foolproof in his head...
Chapter 1 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 21
Chapter 2 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 17
Chapter 3 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 18
Chapter 4 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 19
Chapter 5 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 20
Of Fake Fairytales and Faux Amour
-- Chapter 19 --
The Cherry on Top of the Grape Vine
Miles stared at the steering wheel of his car. Peace and welcome thoughtlessness for a rare few minutes. It didn’t last, however - the thoughts came back as quickly as they had left him, and he pulled down the car’s visor to check his reflection. After feeling awful for most of the day yesterday, exhaustion had finally overcome him and he’d experienced some sleep. He now looked almost back to normal, the only glaring issue being his emotionless gaze.
Hopefully no one will notice.
Miles flipped the visor back up. Time to go to work.
He had arrived slightly later than usual, and so the walk from the parking lot to the reception was littered with his colleagues. Some of them looked at him with an excited awe, others with notable disdain. He didn’t care about either, being more than used to both reactions. One huddle of prosecutors did start whispering fervently as he walked past, which was a little less common, but otherwise, it was a normal start to the day. That completely juxtaposed with the way Miles felt, making the air seem a little thinner and his head lighter. He spotted Gumshoe at the reception desk and made his way over.
“…I don’t know, pal, Mr. Edgeworth didn’t tell me why,” Gumshoe was saying, shrugging and not yet noticing Miles.
“There’s been all sorts of rumours,” Spencer replied from behind the desk, looking eager. “It must be something big, especially after his behaviour the last month.”
“Behaviour?” Gumshoe scratched his head.
Spencer pulled her chair closer. “You haven’t noticed him leaving early? And spacing out way more than usual? Everyone’s talking about it!”
“Actually, now that you mention it…”
God. That man can be slow.
“Detective,” Miles announced from behind, making both Gumshoe and Spencer jump in their conspiratorial positions. “Miss Spencer,” he then added, nodding her way.
“M-Mr. Edgeworth, sir!” Gumshoe stammered, standing to attention. “Glad to see you’re looking okay!”
“Yes,” Spencer added, removing her hand from where it had shot up to her heart in surprise, “we feared it may have been a long-term illness, something really bad. But since it’s only been a day…” She trailed off, looking at him expectantly.
Great. Maybe I should have taken more time off to make it look normal…
He shuddered at the thought. No, stewing and bumbling around at home was not a particularly attractive option.
“Thank you both, I am quite well,” Miles replied, hoping they didn’t pick up on how flat he sounded. Not that he was normally a lively person. He glanced down at the stack of paperwork Gumshoe was holding. “I trust these are the final documents for the casino case?” he asked, avoiding looking at Spencer. She was the head honcho when it came to wrangling rumours; the less ammunition he gave her, the better.
“Erm, yeah, sir.” Gumshoe pointed at the stack. “I filled out all I could, but there’s still some left. I can pass it over to another prosecutor, if you want?”
I take one day off and suddenly I can’t do my job anymore?
Miles bristled. “Nonsense. Take them up to my office.”
Gumshoe froze, nodded, then scuttled away.
I’ll be having words about that one.
Shaking his head, Miles glanced over at Spencer. Was there anything he could say to make the rumours run at a slower pace?
Franziska is in the country, so I could make up some sort of family emergency…
“Have a good day, Miss Spencer,” he said instead, letting the wheel turn on that rumour mill. No one would guess the real reason. Besides, he sometimes enjoyed listening to the ridiculous tales people came up with to explain his life. They weren’t always as ruthless as the ones from the media.
He made his way to the stairs and climbed. Although he made the effort every day, walking up all twelve floors was still a workout, so Miles arrived at the top slightly breathless. He peeked down the corridor and noted that Everett’s door was closed. Good. That meant she hadn’t arrived yet, so there was no risk of running into her.
After quickly striding over to his office, Miles entered to find Gumshoe playing with his tea set, the stack of documents lying on his desk.
“You don’t want to know how much money would come out of your paycheck if you damage that,” Miles commented, making Gumshoe gingerly place the teacup down with both hands.
“Heh, sorry, sir. Ms. von Karma told me about your teapots and I wondered why you never made me tea.” Gumshoe took a step back from the tea set, rubbing the back of his head. “Guess I know now.”
There are so many reasons.
Miles sat down at his desk and grabbed the top document, turning on his laptop at the same time. “Yes, well, I don’t offer for your wage’s sake.” He glanced over at Gumshoe, who hadn’t moved. “Thank you for the files. You’re free to go.”
The words came out a little more curt than Miles had intended. Unfortunately, social etiquette was not really his first concern when his mind was buzzing with useless feelings and emotions. But no matter, he was here to work, not socialise. He shook his head and opened the file.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Gumshoe hovering, not making any move to leave. Miles tried to ignore him, looking as engrossed as he could in the file titled ‘Defendant Information’.
None of these words are going in…
He sighed and closed the file, before rubbing his temples. “What is it, Detective?”
Gumshoe dashed in front of Miles’ desk and held up both hands. “Okay, look, sir. I’m worried about you.”
Miles raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Don’t be absurd.”
“You’re being so cranky this morning.” Gumshoe paused. “Even more than usual, I’d say!”
“I am not cranky.” Miles had always hated that word. “I’m simply not in the mood for my colleagues doubting my ability to work unaided.”
Sad does not equal cranky.
“But, sir, you took a day off!” Gumshoe frowned. “And, I’m sorry for saying this, but you don’t look great.”
Is this what I’ve been reduced to? A man who prides himself on his scruffy coat lecturing me about how put together I am?
Miles glared at Gumshoe with all the sternness he could muster. He took pride in his unfriendly looks; they were designed to stop people from being so nosy. Today, though, Gumshoe seemed to blossom in response rather than wither.
I really must be quite ill…
“If you’re still not feeling good, you shouldn’t be in work, sir,” Gumshoe scolded, wagging his finger at Miles.
Miles scoffed. “You may deem me less than my usual appearance today, but I am obviously not sick,” he replied coldly, before flipping the file open again. “I trust you are finished insulting me?”
“Just because it’s not a physical illness doesn’t mean you’re healthy, sir. Your brain needs looking after too.”
Although clumsy and hapless, Gumshoe seemed to understand the human psyche better than Miles could ever dream to. People were such a mystery - a bunch of lofty emotions not tied to enough weighty logic for him to grasp. When he thought he’d finally figured it all out, he had in fact been at the furthest point from understanding, his emotions completely devoid of their rational anchor.
“Thank you, Detective.” After a notable pause, Miles looked up at him again. “I… I really do appreciate the sentiment, but believe me when I say that here is the best place for me to be right now.”
Gumshoe studied his face, then nodded. “I believe you, sir.” He pointed a finger at Miles. “Next time, don’t get me all worried and whatnot! Just let me know. I’ve heard all sorts of weird rumours at the precinct about your day off.” He scratched his chin. “You don’t actually have a dog, do you?”
For God’s sake. What is it with everyone and this make-believe dog?
“Indeed not. Am I allowed to do my job now?” Miles asked dryly.
Gumshoe laughed loudly, his whole body shaking. “That’s the spirit, sir! You’re sounding better already.”
Wittiness apparently does equal healthy.
Gumshoe chuckled to himself on the way out, the sound reverberating in the corridor.
I certainly wasn’t expecting a mental health checkup from my subordinate today, but it does seem to have helped.
Miles felt a little more ready to face the day. It appeared his time off had been the correct choice, and now, his short conversation with Gumshoe had encouraged him to get his head down and do what he did best.
Could have closed the bloody door, though.
He sighed, got up from his desk and crossed the room. Reaching for the handle, Miles took a quick glance up the corridor and immediately regretted it.
“Oh my God, Miles!”
Faster than lightning, he shut the door with an audible slam. He winced and leaned against his hand on the handle.
Shit.
Then came the expected frantic knocking and muffled “Miles!” from the other side. He removed his hand as if it had been burnt and stepped back a couple of paces.
There goes my chance at normality. Only one thing for it…
I’ll escape out the window.
Unfortunately, his daring prison break was not to be. The door was thrust open and Kath Everett marched in looking extremely flustered.
“Miles! Are you okay!? You haven’t actually resigned to become a full-time taxidermist, have you!?”
“W-what!?” Miles didn’t even know where to start being offended at that comment.
“Georgie Spencer said someone saw your resignation on the Chief Prosecutor’s desk and that someone else knows your favourite hobby is taxidermy! Naturally, she put two and two together and--”
“Everett, what on Earth are you doing barging into my office and accusing me of such nonsense?”
Kath seemed to calm down slightly. “Huh. I guess that one was a little implausible.” She put her hands on her hips. “Please tell me the rumours about you having a brain tumour and three months to live are not true? My poor heart couldn’t handle that one…”
Christ. Who thinks of these? Morbid doesn’t even start to cover it!
“For the thousandth time today, I am physically healthy,” Miles replied, annoyed.
Kath hummed and pointed down at his crotch. “So you didn’t go and get a prosthetic fitted for your dick?”
Miles looked at her incredulously.
“And your hair is the same, so you didn’t bleach it or get a bad haircut.”
That one is at least mildly humorous.
“Wait, wait…” Kath tapped her foot, hands still on her hips. “You didn’t accidentally end up in the same strip club as the Paynes and nearly get fired, did you?”
Miles rolled his eyes. “Please don’t make us all ill by envisioning that.”
Kath snapped her fingers. “Well, at least I know the most popular theory is wrong and that it’s not because you broke up with your girlfriend.” She winked and giggled.
Miles’ jaw tightened and he crossed his arms. He had been wrong; the rumours were definitely not entertaining.
The expression on Kath’s face suddenly turned somber. “Oh, no, Miles… He didn’t, did he?”
I really need to work on my poker face.
“I would appreciate it if you’d leave now,” Miles replied.
Kath brought her hands up to her mouth. She turned around and closed the door, before walking up to Miles and pulling him into a hug.
“Hng… Everett, what are you doing?” Miles protested, his arms moving helplessly by his sides.
Kath squeezed him tighter and he heard her sniff.
Christ, my jacket better not be soaked through…
“Everett,” Miles repeated. No answer. “Kath, are you alright?”
“What!?” Kath pushed away and looked up at him, wiping away a tear. “Am I okay? What happened with Mr. Wright? Are you okay?”
…Why is she crying?
Forget lofty emotions, these reactions from his colleagues today were from another planet. Was Miles seriously the weird one for not understanding them?
“I think you know me well enough to know that I don’t particularly want to talk about it,” Miles said. He turned around and made his way back to his desk to sit down.
Kath invited herself further into the room, a sad look on her face as she took a seat on the sofa. “I also know you probably should,” she replied, scooting forward to sit on the edge of the cushion. “I’m honestly not trying to be nosy! I care about you both.” She glanced at the floor for a second, before looking back up at him. “Okay, maybe I’m being a little nosy…”
I wouldn’t expect any less.
Miles opened his top drawer and pulled out his box of tissues. Leaning over, he offered them to Kath, who thanked him before taking three to wipe her eyes and blow her nose. Miles took one for himself and dabbed the small wet spot that Kath had made on his newly dry-cleaned jacket.
Tears don’t stain, do they?
“I don’t know what you’re expecting me to say, Everett.” Miles gave up on the dabbing and took off his jacket - the thought of wearing a stained piece of clothing made him cringe. Plus it was warm today anyway. He didn’t need it.
Kath tutted as she dabbed her eye with a tissue. “You always try so hard to repress those emotions of yours!” She waved her free hand. “Come on, you never take sick days. Mr. Wright must have done something really bad.” She stared at him expectantly, almost as if she knew something he didn’t.
It wasn’t him who did something bad…
“I… well…” Miles looked away. “We broke up.”
“That much I got.”
Miles sighed. “There’s nothing else to explain. We’re no longer together, never will be again. That’s that.”
That’s that…
He needed tea. He made his way over to his set and offered to Kath, out of manners, but she shook her head. Using his favourite strainer, he prepared a cup of matcha green tea, a fine leaf provided by the Gatewater Hotel that was imported from Japan. Invigorating and good for a focused mind.
After a few minutes of silence while the tea brewed, Kath piped up. “Okay, I see you’ve… uh… come to terms with this.” She shifted around on the sofa. “But why? You really like him!”
Miles let his head drop to look down at his cup, hair falling around his face. He didn’t need reminding of his stupidity.
“Oh.” Kath cleared her throat. “I mean you really, really like him. And, well, it’s super obvious that Mr. Wright adores you!”
“I would argue against that line of reasoning, considering the circumstances,” Miles retorted. He hoped it didn’t come across as bitter; everything he said today sounded so empty.
“Don’t be silly,” Kath replied. “I’m not just talking about PDAs and sex. It’s the way he looks at you and talks about you, y’know? Even in front of people who don’t know you’re da--erm, were dating.”
So he’s managed to confuse you too. I suppose us fools only see what we want to see.
After removing the strainer and cleaning away the pulp, Miles took the cup of matcha back to his desk and sat down. “Everett, I don’t think this is what I need to hear right now.”
Kath gave him an apologetic look. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I just…” She trailed off. Something seemed to be on her mind. “Oh God, don’t hate me, but… is this because of that girl?”
That girl?
Miles frowned. “What?”
Kath shifted again, looking even more nervous. “Is the reason you’ve broken up because of Mr. Wright’s inability to deal with his sexuality?”
Christ. Everett is never one to beat around the proverbial bush, or keep her nose out of it.
Where did she get that idea from?
He picked up his cup and inhaled, enjoying the aroma, before taking a sip. “It’s… multifaceted.”
“Oh, no!” Kath’s outburst made him jump slightly. “You didn’t know, did you?”
Miles’ frown deepened. This was getting more confusing by the second.
Kath leaned forward and put her hand on the desk. “I saw him. With a girl. I didn’t tell you because he made it sound like it was nothing and… Oh, I’m such an idiot!”
A girl…
Come to think of it, Maya had said something about Wright having a girlfriend, but Wright had denied it. Had he lied to him?
Miles didn’t know how to respond, or even how to feel about such news. He took another sip of his tea, trying to sort it all out in his head. How he wished he didn’t feel like the most incompetent man on the planet right now.
Kath took her hand away from the desk. Her eyes were full of pity, another thing Miles hated.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Miles said, shaking his head. “Wright and I simply weren’t meant to be. I had hoped…” He looked away. “I… had never experienced something like this before. It will take time to get over, but I will manage.”
“You’re right! Screw him!” Kath slammed a hand down on his desk. “If he can’t see what an amazing thing you both had, he doesn’t deserve happiness. But you totally do! There’s so many pretty male fishies in the sexy, stormy sea of dating!”
So much for avoiding those clichés.
But she really is trying to help.
Miles took another sip. “Thank you, Everett.” He twisted the cup round on the saucer. “And thank you also for not being untoward, now that I’m single.”
Kath laughed. “Are you kidding? Miles, you’re so obviously gay! When I met Mr. Wright, I understood instantly.”
“What?” Miles frowned. “But what about… You kept--”
“Hah! I only flirted with you ‘cause it was hilarious to see your face, you prude! You fell for it every time and it was so much fun.” Kath laughed again. “I’m so sorry! Don’t get me wrong, though. You’re hot and I had a massive crush before I knew, but I prefer straight guys.”
Miles blinked.
Does that mean the whole fake relationship was a complete waste of time?
Does that mean I could have avoided all those dates and never ended up in this mess of a situation?
“R-really!?” Miles leaned back in his chair. “But Larry seemed adamant that you didn’t think my relationship with Wright was serious.”
“Larry?” Kath frowned. “I’ve barely spoken to him about you.” She laughed. “Don’t tell me Larry was setting me up as some crazed woman trying to turn a gay guy.”
When something smells…
Miles rubbed his temple. He had been thoroughly outplayed.
What was his angle in all of this? Damn that man.
“Yes, well, he has always been keen on the two of us being more… obvious. He’s not a fan of the secrecy.”
Just you wait until I see him again…
“I guess he was trying to encourage your relationship,” Kath said brightly, before grimacing. “Ugh, what am I saying? Mr. Wright is a disgraceful player. I always knew there was something off about him, you know? I’m in two minds about giving him a stern talking to!”
“Please don’t,” Miles interjected. The thought of Kath berating Wright made him feel guilty. Sure, Wright hadn’t reacted in the best way, but he hadn’t done anything wrong. “He’s not the only one at fault. I kept something important from him and I… made assumptions about our relationship.” Miles took a sip of tea, avoiding Kath’s gaze. “I’ve let him down more than he’s let me down.”
“What do you mean?” Kath pouted. “This sucks. It doesn’t feel right! I know I’m not getting the full story. You two were so… dreamy.”
Looks like we’ve officially outdone the word ‘cute’.
“Yes, well.” Miles didn’t know what else to say. ‘Dreamy’ was not exactly the word he’d use to describe his relationship with Wright - at the moment, it was more akin to a nightmare. Before this whole thing, he’d been perfectly content living without having to think about romance or relationships, never mind his sexuality. But of course, Wright had to ruin everything by making him feel wanted and secure, by making him smile and laugh. By being so frustratingly attractive, both inside and out.
And now, because of his own stupidity, Miles had even less than he had started with.
“God, I can’t believe you hotties aren’t together anymore.” Kath sighed and shook her head. “I’m just so sad about all that amazing sex that could have been, now going to waste.”
…And there’s the Kath we all know and just about tolerate. I should have known she was being far too sensible.
“Oooh!” Kath snapped her fingers. “Now that you’re sad and single, you should come visit me in Italy!”
Miles frowned. “I thought you said you weren’t serious about flirting with me.”
Kath rolled her eyes. “Not like that, silly. I can be your wingwoman!” She clasped her hands together and beamed at him. “You can be the dutiful gay best friend and we can find ourselves a pair of Italian stallions! It’ll be just like the movies!”
I’d almost forgotten about her taste in films…
“I’ll… consider it,” Miles lied. He had no intention of trying to find someone else. Right now, he didn’t even feel like he could have feelings for anyone else. However, escaping to Europe was a tempting idea. Just certainly not with Everett.
Besides, I’d have to be insane to willingly endure Everett swooning over all the poor Mediterranean men.
“Of course, there’s no rush,” Kath said, waving her hand. “I know it’ll take you a while to get over him. Believe me, I’ve been there a couple of times.” Her eyes welled up with tears again. “Oh, Miles. I’m so sorry you had to experience heartbreak. It’s the worst.”
I guess I feel slightly sorry for her.
Miles finished his tea and raised the cup. “To never experiencing heartbreak, ever again,” he mock toasted.
Kath giggled, wiping away at her eyes. “And to keep on keeping on, you trooper!” She got up from the couch and Miles followed suit, relieved to finally be coming to the end of what seemed to be a strange, misguided pep talk. “I need to get to work, but call me if you need someone to vent to. Especially if it’s about something lewd.” She winked.
What is it with everyone wanting me to talk to them when I feel awful?
“Have a good day, Everett,” Miles replied, seeing her to the door. “And if I don’t see you again before you leave, I hope your trip to Italy goes smoothly.”
“I’m positive it will,” Kath said, smiling. “But I’ll definitely be seeing you again before I leave! Bye, Miles! Feel better!” She waved and left the room.
And with that, Miles was alone again.
I’m starting to wonder which is the lesser of two evils: listening to my own thoughts or being bombarded by other people’s.
Instead of sitting at his desk, Miles took a stack of documents over to the couch. It amazed him how much the legal system still relied on printed words, but it did have the advantage of not having to stare at a computer screen all day. Comfort was something Miles always strived for. He leaned back into the plush cushioning and opened the top file again.
-Knock knock-
Why do I even bother?
Miles resisted the urge to smack the pile of folders to the floor. It was a most undignified thought - surely no one could ever cope with the unorganised chaos dropped files would create. Instead, he let out a sharp breath of frustration and got up to go open the door.
A delivery lady stood there with a large bouquet of flowers, along with a medium-sized package. “Mr. Edgeworth, sir! Glad to see you’re looking well.”
For Christ’s sake. Even the logistical staff knows about my day off?
“Yes, yes, I’m fine, thank you.” Miles indicated at the bouquet and package. “This is the standard, I take it?”
“Yup!” The delivery lady handed over the gifts, before taking a gigantic envelope out of her messenger bag. “Although, the card is a little more, err, verbose than usual.”
Surely not possible.
“If you could relay my thanks to the sender, as usual,” Miles said from behind a large carnation that was partially blocking his view.
“Sure, Mr. Edgeworth!” She nodded. “Just to add, we in the parcel office like your hair the way it is. So glad you haven’t changed it!”
I just appreciate that’s the rumour she chose.
“Don’t worry, I don’t intend to.”
She waved goodbye and Miles managed to close the door while balancing everything in one arm.
He changed the old flowers on his windowsill for the new ones and opened the package that came with them. It was a deluxe Evil Magistrate figurine and a pack of cured ham. Disregarding the weirdness of the ham, Miles sat at his desk and meticulously studied the figurine. The attention to detail was exquisite. Whoever had designed the model must have been a fan as they had used the original red markings on the Magistrate’s mask. He walked back to the window and carefully placed the Evil Magistrate next to the Steel Samurai, admiring how their opposing stances made them look as though they were in the middle of an epic battle.
It almost makes being stalked worth it…
He opened the envelope and braced himself for the onslaught of words that usually accompanied Oldbag’s gifts.
‘Dearest Edgey-poo,
Here is one of my favourite figurines - I got a ton of them from the studio as part of my send-off. His pose really reminds me of the forever missed Jack Hammer. Ah, back in the good old days, when people weren’t constantly getting murdered. But I guess if the young whippersnappers nowadays weren’t a bunch of murdering delinquents, we wouldn’t have our favourite prosecutor to lock them away, would we? Speaking of whippersnappers, I caught one jumping in front of me to get on the bus the other day. I am a pensioner! Can’t those young punks have some respect and let me enjoy my free bus rides in peace!?’
Miles shook his head. That woman. She rambled on about the bus journey for another paragraph.
‘But I digress. I am mainly writing to make sure that my Edgey-poo is feeling tip-top! Rumour has it that you were feeling ill so I thought I’d better check that it’s nothing serious. Or maybe they’ve finally cast you as a superhero and you’ve been going to the studio to practice your lines.’
Miles reread the last sentence a few times.
Superhero Miles Edgeworth… I could have a prosecutor pickaxe. Or even a lawyer lance.
…Ahem.
‘However, I’ve also heard rumours that you may be courting, and that your poor little heart has been broken. DON’T FALL FOR THOSE VIXENS, EDGEY-POO! They’re all out to get you for what they can, now that divorce is fine and dandy. If you need someone to talk to, don’t hesitate to call!
Wendy’
Miles politely added the card to the trash once he was done, but kept the tag attached to the bouquet. He decided that was enough etiquette to be allowed to keep the presents.
I still don’t get the ham… Must be an old wives’ tale.
He eyed his door, daring it to make a noise. When it surprisingly didn’t, he gathered his folders from the couch and went to set everything up at his desk again. The couch had been too informal; this way, he could get his work done more efficiently. Considering all the interruptions so far this morning, it seemed the wiser choice.
Just as he opened that same top file to finally start working, an email notification popped up on his computer screen. He debated not opening it, knowing he could ignore it for a couple of hours without raising suspicion. Then again, it wasn’t as if he’d even started on the massive pile of paperwork sitting in front of him. He clicked the pop-up.
‘Little brother,
What is this I hear about a new hairstyle? Don’t tell me you’ve done something foolish.
Franziska von Karma’
Franziska’s emails always ended with a massive footnote that detailed all her accomplishments, such as her Queen Prosecutor award from Düsseldorf. Miles noted that she’d gained an extra accolade since last time: apparently, she was now in the top 10 of the Scariest International Prosecutors, a list compiled by the Defence Attorneys’ Association of the United States. He clicked the link and scowled when he saw that he had only just scraped top 20. Surely it was because he was barely still recognised as international. He clicked back to his inbox to type his reply.
‘Franziska,
You know why I was away from the office. Stop being a gossip.
Miles’
Miles used a more modest footnote that detailed his job description and work address in a sophisticated, maroon font. Screen text should be just as stylish as the written word.
It only took a few moments to get a response.
‘I do NOT gossip!
I investigate the office politics.’
Miles chuckled slightly at that. He could tell she was getting defensive because she had forgotten to include their names, as she normally would when emailing.
‘Franziska,
Don’t whip the rumour millers, they only get paid by the hour to keep it spinning.
Miles’
He knew that reply would annoy her.
As if on cue, his cellphone started ringing.
That’ll be her complaining.
Miles picked up his phone and answered it with a smirk. “Fine, you’re not a gossip. But before you ask, the rumours about taxidermy and prosthetics are not true either.”
“Um… Edgeworth? Am I still drunk?”
Miles startled and dropped the phone, which landed on the desk with a clatter. He stared at it for a few seconds, just then noticing the caller ID, before hastily picking it back up. “Wright?”
“Oof. Nope, definitely not drunk anymore. That crash made my head ring like a bell.”
“You’ve called,” Miles said, stating the obvious like a moron.
“Yeah,” Phoenix replied softly. “Sorry it took me so long.”
Miles didn’t know what to say. After almost two days, he’d given up on Wright calling him. After all, what even remained to be said? Wright had tried to mend their friendship and Miles had misunderstood. End of story.
“You still there?” Phoenix asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Yes, sorry,” Miles replied. “I just… I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I was just wondering how you’re holding up. I didn’t… well… The way I reacted, that was wrong, and I’m sorry.”
There it was, the apology Miles had been hoping for, but he found it did little to make him feel better. If anything, it simply confirmed that Wright hadn’t miraculously had a change of heart.
“Look, Edgeworth,” Phoenix continued when Miles didn’t respond. “I don’t know how this happened, but… I don’t want to lose you as a friend. I want to keep spending time with you, but if you--” He cut himself off and sighed. “Look, I’m just… I don’t like men. I wish I did, but I don’t.”
“You wish you did?” Miles repeated, raising an eyebrow. That was a strange thing to say.
“Well, I mean…” Phoenix sounded sheepish. “If you were a woman, I’d totally date you.”
Miles rolled his eyes.
Of course, he goes straight to jokes.
“Very funny, Wright.”
“No, I’m serious!” Phoenix protested. “You’re my closest friend. It would’ve made things so much easier if you were a girl.”
Miles frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well… I haven’t really had the best luck relationship-wise, so if you were a girl and you confessed to me, well…”
“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Miles blurted out without thinking. Wright had denied it before, but both Maya and Everett had mentioned it in less than a week. It couldn’t have been a coincidence.
The pause that followed was enough of an answer.
“Err, well…” Phoenix hesitated. “She’s not really my girlfriend. Not yet, anyways. I mean, she’s not even my type so--”
“Wright,” Miles interrupted. “There’s no need to justify yourself. I’ll live. I just don’t understand why you felt the need to hide it.”
Especially since everything was make-believe to him.
“I was going to tell you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, first.”
“I’m fine,” Miles replied, feeling anything but fine. “I managed almost twenty-six years without a relationship. I can do it again.”
Phoenix hummed weakly and there was a short pause before he spoke again. “How did you find out?”
“Everett told me.”
“What?” Phoenix sounded surprised.
“She said she saw you with her,” Miles explained.
“At the salon?”
Miles blinked.
Don’t tell me…
“You’re dating the woman from Larry’s workplace?”
“I’m not dating her,” Phoenix said, sounding oddly defensive. “I mean, yeah, I have a date with her tomorrow night, but we’re not dating.”
Miles frowned. “I’m pretty sure that’s the definition of dating, Wright.”
“You know what I mean.”
No, I really don’t.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, either. The fact remained that Wright had chosen that woman over him. It shouldn’t have been surprising, considering Wright was straight, except Wright had been adamant that he wasn’t interested in her. Had he been lying? If so, why? Was he embarrassed about his tastes? Did he want Miles to believe he had a chance?
No, Wright wasn’t that cruel. He had been genuinely shocked to find out about Miles’ feelings - he definitely hadn’t broken his heart on purpose. On the contrary, it seemed as though he still felt guilty about it.
“I’m sorry, Edgeworth,” Phoenix added suddenly, as if he’d read his mind.
Miles sighed. “Stop apologising. Your personal life is none of my business.”
“I know, but… I dunno, this feels wrong for some reason.”
Miles rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Wright… I know you feel guilty about what happened, but I assure you, it was entirely my fault.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Phoenix argued. “I’m the one who made you spend time with me, and I kept pretending to flirt with you and--”
“Wright,” Miles cut in sharply. “You didn’t make me do anything. I spent time with you because I wanted to.”
“Well, yeah, but you only wanted to because you thought I liked you!”
Miles opened his mouth to retort, but closed it when nothing came out. What could he even say to that? It was true. Before he realised his feelings, spending time with Wright - as grateful as Miles was to him - had felt like a waste of time. Time he’d rather have spent working. But afterwards, the prospect of something more, as scary as it was, had made him want to spend more and more time with Wright, to the point where he couldn’t even focus on his work.
“…Edgeworth?”
“Why… How is that your fault?” Miles asked, tracing a finger along the edge of his desk.
Phoenix sighed on the other end. “I already told you. I gave you the wrong impression.”
Miles scoffed. “I should have been smart enough to know you weren’t serious. It was pretty clear from the start that you liked women. I just… saw what I wanted to see.”
There was silence for a moment until Phoenix spoke again.
“Look. We could argue all day, but I won’t feel any less shitty about it. Okay, you misunderstood, but you wouldn’t have if I didn’t make all those stupid jokes.”
“It wasn’t just the jokes, Wright!” Miles snapped. “You called me just to talk, you bought me my favorite tea, you let the barista believe that we were dating, you acted as if Everett was there even when she wasn’t…”
“That’s not true!”
Miles ignored him and continued. “You got premiere tickets for the Steel Samurai, you spent your whole day off with me while I was investigating, and then you invited me over to your place, sat right next to me and put your hand on my back while--”
“That was an accident!” Phoenix cut in again.
“You mean like how kissing me was an accident?”
Phoenix huffed. “You know what? Fuck you. I called to apologise because I felt bad, but really?” He let out a wry laugh. “I was trying really hard to be friends again, and you fucking knew that, but instead, you’re like, ‘Oh, let’s not tell Wright that I’m in love with him and let him think that I finally understand how friendship works.’”
Miles scowled. “That is not--”
“Shut up, Edgeworth. You can’t tell me it’s your fault and then go on a fucking rant about all those things I supposedly did. You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
I beg to differ.
“Enlighten me, then.”
Phoenix scoffed. “There’s no point. You never listen, anyway.”
Neither do you.
“Oh, and by the way,” Phoenix added, “I gave the tickets to Maya and Pearls. I was gonna go with you, because, you know, that’s what friends do, but there’s no way I was gonna watch that crap by myself.”
Miles tightened his jaw. He wasn’t going to rise to the bait.
“Good for them,” he replied as casually as possible. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do.”
“How shocking.”
“Goodbye, Wright.”
The line went dead.
Miles stared at his phone. What had just happened? Had their friendship just ended? Just like that? He’d heard of unrequited feelings ruining everything, but how could sixteen years of friendship end with a simple phone call?
Who am I kidding? We weren’t friends for that long. We could have been, but I was too much of a coward to reply to his letters.
Miles laughed at the realisation.
Maybe I do need to learn how friendship works.