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"Charles?"
"Hmm?"
"Are you listening to me?"
"Mhhm."
A moment later, a hand obscures the screen of his phone. When he looks up, Raven's scowling at him. "No, you aren't, you liar. Have you heard anything I've said in the last five minutes?"
Charles sighs, lowering his phone. "Yes, you were telling me all about how terrible your class is and how your professor's the worst and how your TA's even worse than that—"
"You don't have to sound so bored," Raven says grumpily. Throwing herself down onto the couch next to him, she shoots him a narrow-eyed look. "What's so interesting on your phone anyway? Are you texting somebody?" She waggles her eyebrows. "A hot somebody?"
"As a matter of fact—"
"Oh my god, let me see! Do they have a Facebook? Instagram?"
He holds his phone out of reach as she grabs for it. "No, it's not—I don't actually know what he looks like."
"What? How can you not know what he looks like?"
"Well, I mean, I know what he says he looks like, but he's obviously lying."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Look." Charles swipes open his phone. "Remember when you made me sign up on that dating site? Mutant & Proud?"
"Yeah, and you told me online dating was totally a young person thing and you were way too old for it and blah, blah, blah, okay, let me see him."
This time when she grabs for his phone, he lets her take it. She scrolls through the photos in quick succession and starts to laugh. "Really? These are all like, photoshoot pics. You're so being catfished, and they're not even being subtle about it!" Then she pauses and shoots him an alarmed look. "Oh my god, please tell me you don't think it's actually Erik Lehnsherr."
Charles rolls his eyes. "Please, give me some credit. I'm not that oblivious. Anyway, that's why I don't know what he actually looks like, but I've been talking to him for almost a month now."
"Yeah, your messages go way back," Raven says, scrolling. "Why the hell are you still talking to him?"
"Because I think it's hilarious how committed he is to the role. He has yet to break character this whole time." And also because "Erik," whoever he really is, is actually kind of funny and sweet and interesting, but Charles is certainly not telling Raven that.
"Anyway," he says, snatching his phone back from her, "it's all going to be over tomorrow."
"Why?"
"Because I'm going to meet him."
Raven stares at him, obviously torn between laughter and disbelief. "Are you serious? It's probably some twenty-year-old prankster or...or some fifty-year-old dude who lives in his mother's basement. Or a murderer."
"Don't be ridiculous. You've gone out with guys from this site before. You met Azazel, remember?"
"Yeah, and he had his own profile pic! He wasn't pretending to be a celebrity!" She laughs incredulously. "Who would use Erik Lehnsherr to catfish anyway? You'd think they'd use someone who isn't a household name. Like a stock photo or something. This is so obviously a troll."
"That may be so," Charles sniffs, "but all will be revealed tomorrow."
Raven groans. "I can't believe you're actually going to meet him. You do know whoever it is probably isn't even going to show up, right? Because there's no way in hell they actually look like Erik Lehnsherr and they know you're probably going to take one look and ditch them."
"Well, if that's the case, then I'll still have a delightful story about flirting with Erik Lehnsherr online. That'll be a huge hit at Mother's parties, don't you think?"
"Oh yeah, tell all those eighty-year-old coots about how you're trying to get laid by chatting up strangers online. That's gonna go over well." She flops down onto her back, thrusting her feet into his lap. "Where are you meeting him tomorrow? Somewhere public, I hope."
"Like I said, I'm not completely hopeless. We're going to have coffee at The Rose."
"Okay, coffee's good. That way you can escape quickly if he's a total weirdo."
Charles huffs. "I'm sure it'll be fine. You're probably right anyway—he probably won't even show up."
"Just text me a skull emoji if it's going horribly and you can't get out of it," Raven says, her attention drifting away as she snags the remote from the coffee table and starts to channel surf. "I'll call with some huge emergency and come get you."
Charles laughs. "Deal."
*
Charles is early to their date, which he'd timed purposefully because he'd been worried the cafe would be too crowded and he'd have a difficult time pushing his way through in his wheelchair. But thankfully the place isn't too full, and he manages to secure a table in the corner with a full view of the door. He orders an Earl Grey tea to start with and then sits and scrolls idly through their old messages, smiling helplessly.
So he hadn't been totally truthful with Raven. He and Erik, or whatever his real name is, have been talking for closer to two months, not one, and Charles has somehow allowed himself to develop a slightly embarrassing crush on this mystery man. Erik is intelligent and politics-savvy, and he has a sharp sense of humor that comes through even through texts, and even if his texting is sporadic sometimes, even if he has obviously fake profile pictures, there's still something about him that feels genuine. There's still something about him that Charles really, unexpectedly likes.
Raven's right—he probably isn't going to show up today. Charles is probably going to sit here, have his tea, feel like a dolt for an hour or so, and then head home. And despite what he'd told Raven, he knows he's going to be deeply disappointed, one way or another.
That's what you get for falling for a fantasy, he tells himself wryly. You knew this is what you were setting yourself up for the second you asked to meet.
And yet, some part of him is still hoping this will somehow all turn out well. Maybe Erik will actually be a handsome, age-appropriate match for Charles. Maybe Erik has a good reason to not want his real pictures on his profile, though Charles really can't fathom why he'd chosen to impersonate Erik Lehnsherr, of all people. But maybe Erik will have a good explanation, if he ever shows up.
This is why Raven calls him a hopeless optimist. Sighing, Charles takes a sip of his tea and checks his watch.
His phone buzzes. Heart leaping, he picks it up and sees a text from Erik: I'm outside in the black sedan. Do you mind coming out to meet me?
Charles frowns down at the message for a long minute. Erik wants him to go outside and meet him at his car? Why on earth for? Why doesn't he just come inside if he's already here?
Oh Christ, he really is a serial killer or something, isn't he? Raven was right. She was totally right.
Don't you want to come in and get a drink? Charles texts back, his stomach all twisted up with nerves.
Erik's reply is instantaneous. Meet me by my car and I'll explain everything, I promise.
This is a bad idea. This is a terrible idea. Raven's going to scream when she finds out what Charles did.
But really, they're in a public area, it won't be easy to wrestle Charles into a car with his wheelchair, and besides, Charles has his telepathy. He's hardly helpless. It would be a shame to come this far and stop just short of solving the mystery once and for all.
So he downs the rest of his tea, wheels himself to the front of the cafe, and spies the black sedan in question across the street. A quick sweep of the car reveals two minds, one driver and one passenger in the backseat. Charles grew up in a family that never went anywhere without a chauffeur so he knows what a town car looks like. So Erik's rich, is he? Or he has expensive tastes, or he's trying to impress for some reason. Maybe to make up for the fact that he probably doesn't look anything like the pictures on his profile.
Neither of the minds in the car feels hostile or dangerous. After a moment of deliberation, Charles crosses the street and comes around to the passenger side of the car.
The back passenger seat door pops open. Nervous and wary and excited all at once, Charles wheels himself over to it.
"Hi," says the man in the backseat. The man whose face is exactly like Erik Lehnsherr's face.
Charles's brain short-circuits. He has no idea how long it takes for his thoughts to regain any semblance of order, but the next thing he hears is, "—get in or would you rather stay out there?"
"Huh?" he says intelligently.
Erik smiles. Erik fucking Lehnsherr smiles at him. "I said, would you like to get in or would you rather stay out there? My driver can put your chair in the back if you're okay with that."
"Uhhh," Charles says.
"You're much more eloquent online."
"Uhhh," Charles says again, feeling slightly hysterical. "You're Erik Lehnsherr!"
Erik's smile widens. It's his trademark toothy smile, the one everyone in Hollywood always teases him about. Everyone in fucking Hollywood! "Yeah, I am. Were you expecting someone else?"
"Yes!" The shock is starting to fade enough that he's capable of finding words again. "There's no way you're actually Erik Lehnsherr. Are you a lookalike? A body double?"
Now Erik looks surprised. "Are you saying you didn't believe me the whole time we were talking?"
"No! How could I? Why the hell would—you're an Oscar-winning actor! You could probably get any guy or girl you ever wanted! Why the hell would you be on Mutant & Proud?" Charles puts a hand to his forehead. "Am I even awake right now? Am I dreaming?"
Erik laughs. "Get in, please. I'll try to explain."
Somehow, even with all his limbs made watery and weak from shock, Charles manages to smoothly transfer into the car. The driver, a tall man with the most luscious black hair Charles has ever seen, folds his chair up neatly and, after shutting the door, goes to tuck it into the trunk. Once that's done, he remains outside, leaning idly up against the back of the car.
That leaves Charles alone with Erik. A-list, Oscar-winning, international superstar actor Erik.
"You probably have some questions," Erik says.
"You have a knack for understatement," Charles replies, which makes Erik laugh. He has a wonderful laugh, and Charles falls in love with it instantly.
"My friend made the account for me," Erik explains. "She's...she means well but she meddles with everything in my life. We've been best friends since we were kids so she does what she wants, really. I didn't find out she'd set me up with an account until a few months ago, and when I logged in to delete it, I saw the message you sent me."
"What made you reply? I mean, you must have gotten dozens of messages with a profile picture like that."
"A lot of the messages accused me of being fake," Erik admits, "which, in hindsight, I can see why. But your message was different. It made me laugh, and when I clicked on your profile and saw your pictures..."
He doesn't have to finish; Charles can see well enough in Erik's surface thoughts what Erik thinks of him: gorgeous, breath-taking, brilliant. Fighting back a blush, Charles clears his throat and says, "So you just...decided to try online dating? With me? I mean, I'm just a professor. I'm sure you meet much more interesting people in your job."
"None of them are as interesting as you," Erik says. His eyes are an intense blue-gray that Charles finds impossible to look away from. "None of them are as funny or smart or well-versed in politics. Although your integrationist sympathies are unfortunate."
Charles laughs. "About as unfortunate as your separatist ones! And your ideas on how to reform the government leave much to be desired."
"I think we should burn down the government and start over."
"Exactly!" Charles laughs again, and then stops and stares at Erik in utter amazement. He's really talking to Erik Lehnsherr right now. He's been talking to Erik Lehnsherr all along, and Erik is just as interesting, well-spoken, and mesmerizing in person as he was online. He's the fantasy, except he's not a fantasy at all.
"I can't believe you're real," he breathes.
"I can't believe you never told me you had a really hot accent," Erik replies, smiling.
Charles laughs breathlessly. "It's one of my many charms." After a moment, he shakes his head in amazement. "I can't believe you actually agreed to go out on a date with me. And I can see why you didn't want to go inside." No doubt Erik would have been recognized in an instant and mobbed by adoring fans.
Erik's smile turns rueful. "I thought possibly ending up in the tabloids wasn't a good first date idea. I can still send Janos to get some coffee if you want some."
Charles shakes his head. "No, it's alright. I assume you have another first date idea though? Or are we going to spend the rest of the evening in the car?"
"I was thinking..." Erik hesitates for a moment before pushing on. "I was actually thinking of inviting you back to my place. I don't live too far from here, and it's quiet and there's security so the paparazzi won't find their way in somehow. It'd be private. And I can make dinner."
Charles's heart thumps madly in his chest. "A home-cooked meal?" he murmurs. "I could never resist that."
Erik's answering smile is so pleased Charles falls completely in love with him right then and there. If Erik had asked him in that instant to marry him, Charles would've happily let Erik haul him straight to the altar.
At a signal from Erik, the driver returns to the car and pulls off the curb, and then they're speeding back to Erik's place. After a few minutes of hesitation, Charles offers his hand tentatively to Erik, who smiles and takes it, lacing their fingers comfortably together.
Charles grins, very nearly giddy. Oh, Raven is never, ever going to believe this.