Day two: trick/truth. I own nothing!

She'd long since gotten used to dancing around the truth. A smile here, a change in conversation there, and a half-truth there - all tied up in a trick the public didn't know she was playing.

Didn't know they were playing.

"Come on now," an interviewer would say, "don't you think he shows you special attention?"

And she would smile and talk about what a gentleman he was, and tie in a story about him helping another co-star with her lines. How he would do that for anyone, not just for her. That there was no way he was singling her out like that.

And she would never mention his necklace, tucked out of sight in her bedroom.

Or her stone, clutched in his hand on hard nights.

Or the fact that she knew it was.

She would never tell them the things she knew about him - that he loved terrible puns, that he had managed to burn cereal for her one morning, or that he had confessed one quiet night that his favorite color was not the blue he told the public. It had, for two and a half years now, been gold.

Whenever they asked for silly stories from set, she would keep it limited to what the public already knew, or what their co-stars could tell. She would skip over the truth of it, the why of her bringing them lunch. That it wasn't just a thank-you to their shared manager, to make his job easier.

She would lie to them with a smile that it wasn't an I love you wrapped in an eat your damn lunch.

When they asked her if she was seeing anyone, she would trick them again. She would laugh it off, saying that her schedule would drive a saint crazy. That between school and work, there was no time to think about boys. And to be fair, she didn't think about boys. She thought about a man, one in particular, in the moments between breathing.

And when they asked her if she loved him, she would grin and reply that it would be hard to find a girl in Japan who didn't. They never thought to ask her if he loved her back, because that would have had a very different answer.

So their trick - the greatest trick they'd ever pulled, to convince the world they weren't together - kept going, until the day they were ready to tell the public the truth.