Page 78 of Faking It Right
Sawyer read the post aloud with growing amazement. “‘As sovereign of souls across the ages, I recognize my eternal companions. If dreams of royal chambers and whispered secrets haunt your nights, it’s because our spirits have danced this waltz before. By divine right and cosmic law, I await our reunion in this lifetime.’”
“Given Maylin’s taste in men, I thought this guy would be a total joke, but he’s actually gorgeous,” I admitted begrudgingly. “I pictured him with big golden retriever energy and the intelligence of a pet rock, but instead, he looks like a Hollywood A-list celebrity. It’s downright unfair.”
Mom flipped to the next photo, revealing Baxter in a stunningly authentic pharaoh costume, striking a majestic pose in front of the actual Sphinx and pyramids at Giza. The golden headdress gleamed in the desert sunlight, and his kohl-lined eyes gazed imperiously at the camera. The staff he wielded looked like it had been pilfered from a museum collection, and his entire stance exuded ancient authority against the backdrop of Egypt’s iconic monuments.
“The caption reads, ‘People of all pronouns and persuasions, I’ve reclaimed my power as Pharaoh of the Two Kingdoms. In this lifetime, I offer spiritual guidance and sensual healing to those who recognize my divine authority,’” Mom announced.
“Did he seriously rent out the entire Giza plateau for a private photo shoot?” Dad asked in disbelief.
“It looks like it, because that’s not digitally composited. You can tell when you look at the shadows and lighting,” Gia explained. “That’s a professional on-location shoot. I’m genuinely impressed.”
The next photo was even more striking. Baxter donned historically accurate Viking garb, which had clearly been researched and crafted with painstaking attention to detail. He stood on what appeared to be an actual Norwegian fjord, the breathtaking landscape stretching behind him as he brandished what looked like a genuinely hand-forged battle axe. His fur-lined cloak billowed dramatically in the wind, and his expression was fierce enough to intimidate Thor himself.
“’Fellas, femmes, and thems, my Nordic warrior lifetime was my most virile,’” Sawyer read, channeling her inner burly Viking.
“Please, no more talk about babies. My heart can’t handle it,” I groaned.
“His greetings are fucking sending me,” Harley said with a snort. “Let’s hear it, Sawyer. What’s he got in store for us this time?”
“Are we not going to address how this guy is clearly dropping tens of thousands on these international photo shoots?” Sawyer asked. “Is he secretly an heir to a fortune we don’t know about?”
“Maybe past-life royalty comes with past-life wealth that somehow transferred to this incarnation,” Harley suggested with a chuckle. “Or he’s running a JustFans account we don’t know about.”
“With that body and those sexy costumes? I’d subscribe,” Sawyer said, then quickly added, “for purely academic research purposes, of course,” when Gia raised an eyebrow at her.
Sawyer continued reading. “’I fathered sixty-nine children and conquered twelve villages, but my heart belonged only to my eternal flames. Now accepting applications for our third lover in this incarnation. Must be open to time travel and have a flexible spine.’”
“A flexible spine?” Dad repeated, looking confused.
“Don’t ask,” I pleaded, but Mom was already swiping to the next photo.
It was somehow more impressive than the last. Baxter wore an ethereal, shimmering outfit that captured the essence of a celestial being. Iridescent fabric draped across his shoulders, and what appeared to be actual fiber optic lights were woven into the material, giving the illusion of stars dancing across his frame. He posed on a crystalline platform, with the real Northern Lights providing a stunning backdrop over snow-covered mountains.
“I was expecting a guy who thought throwing some glitter on a bedsheet made him cosmic,” Gia said. “Not a globetrotting cosplayer extraordinaire.”
“Do you think Maylin is his professional photographer?” Dad mused. “That would certainly explain a lot.”
Mom took over reading duties. “’Humans, hotties, and heavenly beings. I’m connecting with my higher self to channel messages from the Pleiadian star system. Today’s cosmic download suggests my third will return when Mercury aligns with Venus.The three of us are destined to complete our soul contract that began in Lemuria.’”
“What the actual fuck is Lemuria?” I asked, feeling increasingly baffled by the chasm between my expectations and the unfolding spectacle.
Harley looked it up on his phone. “A fictional lost continent similar to Atlantis. I have to hand it to these two. They really do their homework on mythological history.”
“And he clearly does his homework on everything else, too,” Dad remarked. “The costume design alone must have cost more than my first car.”
“His first car was a rusted-out ’69 Chevy Nova with mismatched doors and a cracked windshield, so that’s not saying much,” Mom stage-whispered to Harley, who snickered both at the joke and the year.
Sawyer rolled her eyes. “It looks like he’s spent more on that outfit than the combined value of all your cars, Dad.”
Mom flipped through a few more photos. “Oh, speaking of Atlantis.” She showed me her phone again as she flicked through the set.
Baxter posed in an underwater photo shoot in the bluest ocean I had ever seen. His Atlantean costume featured intricate scale patterns that shimmered like the light filtering through the water, while his trident looked like it could summon the Kraken for a game of charades. His long hair floated around his face as he appeared to command the seas themselves.
Sawyer once again affected a voice to make the caption sound grandiose. “‘Mortals, merfolk, and mystical beings. As Poseidonof the lost Atlantean empire, I wield the three-pronged trident, a symbol of our destined trinity. Just as my divine weapon channels the power of three, so too shall our souls converge once more. The ocean never forgets what mortal minds have lost. Our cosmic triangle is written in the very currents of fate. By the sacred trinity of my trident, I decree our reunion in this lifetime. #MercuryIsntTheOnlyThingRising #BigTridentEnergy #SpiritualSidepiece.’”
“His cosplay budget alone is more than my tuition,” Harley quipped, draping an arm around my shoulders with exaggerated possessiveness. “With a guy that rich and hot claiming to be on the lookout for Ryker as his ‘cosmic third,’ maybe I should worry about him stealing you away. After all, according to Maylin, you three have quite the love saga across multiple lifetimes.”
Instead of playing along, I shook my head. “Not a chance. No matter how many past lives we supposedly shared or how mind-boggling his costume budget is, the only guy I want is you.”
