I Can’t Make You Love Me

Jared stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, staring dejectedly at his reflection. His hair, which had reached a record length, had been a point of pride for him in the past few months. Paris had asked him repeatedly to cut it, showering him with subtle insults about it, but he’d steadfastly refused. Now he was plagued with a thought that had occurred to him last week and refused to go away: what if it made him look girlie?

He’d read some complaints about it online and was now toying with the idea of trimming it. Maybe even cutting it off altogether. And, in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help thinking about the fact that his hair was longer than Jaelyn’s.

Shaking his head, Jared pulled his hair back into a bun and left the house without glancing at the mirror again.



On a weekly basis, Jared and Paris went out for lunch. Typically, it was somewhere public and crowded, where they were sure to be spotted by a fan or reporter. It was good for their image and, along with the occasional screaming match at a party, it kept them fairly talked-about in the celebrity community.

Today, Jared had brought Paris to a restaurant downtown where they could dine out in the early-October afternoon and enjoy the view. He was dressed casually in jeans and a collared shirt unbuttoned to mid-chest. Paris was dressed in a long, pink tank-top, white capris, and cork wedges. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and she kept her sunglasses on as she pursued the menu.

“So, talk to your girlfriend lately?” Paris asked a few minutes after they’d sat down.

Jared flipped his menu over and, without looking up, replied, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, you don’t.” She smiled and inclined her head. “How’s Jaelyn?”

“Honestly, Paris, I don’t know what makes you think I’ve talked to her since the party.”

“You had a look.”

“A look?” Jared repeated, glancing over the top of his menu at her. “What look?”

“Just a look,” she said casually, that smile still on her face.

Speaking of looks, Jared mused, knowing exactly what Paris’ smile was about. She was teasing him, leading up to some big revelation or accusation. It wasn’t in her nature to get straight to the point and Jared wouldn’t have expected it of her, anyway.

“Well, why did this alleged ‘look’ prompt you to ask me if I’ve spoken to Jaelyn?”

“I never asked you that,” said Paris innocently.

“Maybe not in those words, but the question was there.”

She shrugged and set her menu down, leaning her arms on the table so she could look at Jared more closely. “I was just curious. I’ve never seen you look at a woman that way and not end up dating her.”

“You’re crazy,” Jared exclaimed, laughing. “You can’t tell who I’m going to date by a look.”

“Yes, I can,” she insisted. “You get the same look every time and you always end up sleeping without whoever it’s directed at.”

“Now, wait, you said ‘dating’ the first time and now you’re saying ‘sleeping with.’ You and I both know there’s a big difference between dating someone and sleeping with someone.”

“Is there?” she asked, gesturing between them. She had a good point, Jared thought, since they had been dating (in the public eye, at least) for quite some time now. But even the fans knew to some extent that what Jared had with Paris was far from true love. “We started out just messing around, but look at us now. I know everything about you.”

“That’s a stretch.”

“Is it? Try me, then. Come on, ask me anything.”

“Fine.” Jared leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms and staring at Paris thoughtfully. He waited until after the waitress came by for their orders to ask, “What’s my favorite color?”

“Easy,” said Paris, rolling her eyes, “Red.”

“What was my first major television role?”

“Jordan on My So-Called Life.”

“My favorite book?”

“The Catcher in the Rye which, by the way, is totally pretentious of you. And your middle name is Joseph and your favorite drink is hot chocolate and your star sign is Capricorn, not Scorpio.”

Jared glared at Paris, unsure how to feel about the level of intimacy they had apparently achieved without him even realizing it. Before he could think of a good response, a voice rang out just over his shoulder: “Oh, my God, are you Paris Hilton?”

A girl appeared next to their table, looking flushed and excited and clutching a large Starbucks cup in her hands. Her red hair was pulled back and she had one orange chunk behind her left ear. Next to Paris, who was practically skin and bones, this girl looked bigger than she actually was – she wasn’t skinny, per say, but you could tell she was the type of woman who enjoyed a good dessert after her meal. Jared thought of his brother, Shannon, who always said the best women were the ones who knew how to eat.

“Hi, sorry, but I’m such a big fan,” said the…woman? Jared wasn’t sure whether to think of this stranger as a woman or girl, since she had one of those faces that could be either, but he knew woman would be the respectful way to address her.

“Of course, it’s always nice to meet a fan,” said Paris charmingly. She was always either perfectly friendly or absolutely uninterested when it came to being greeted by fans, and there was no in-between. Luckily for this girl – woman, Jared corrected himself – Paris seemed to be in the former mindset.

“We’ve actually met before, unofficially,” the woman went on. “My name is Abbie. It was a big group, though, and we never actually spoke. You met my friend—oh, my client, I mean—do you remember her?”

Then, somewhat reluctantly, Jaelyn appeared at Abbie’s side. “Hi,” she said quietly, holding up a hand as if to wave, then letting it drop back to her side. Aside from Abbie’s orange streak, their hair was the same shade of crimson. Pulled back into a ponytail, Jaelyn’s showed off ears that were round and stuck out slightly. Both girls had side-swept bangs, but Abbie’s were bold and thick whereas Jaelyn’s were thin and delicate.

“Jaelyn!” Paris exclaimed cheerfully, pulling off her sunglasses to get a better look at the new arrival. “So nice to see you again.”

Jared grimaced, recognizing Paris’ strained tone. She was obviously very eager to say something unpleasant, but couldn’t because of social convention.

“Jared,” Jaelyn acknowledged.

“Jaelyn,” Jared replied, not looking up at her. He knew that, if he looked up, he’d get lost in her eyes (or, let’s be honest, her cleavage) and he didn’t want to have to listen to what Paris would have to say about that later.

Her voice soft and musical, Jaelyn asked, “How’ve you been, Paris?”

“Super,” Paris answered readily. “I’m young, I’m single, the world is my oyster. How about you?”

“I’m good.”

“Jared Leto, right?” Abbie said just then, distracting Jared from Paris and Jaelyn’s conversation. He looked up at her, seeing her dark eyes fixed on him. Her face held a look somewhere between awe and intrigue; he wasn’t quite sure which.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Thanks for doing that song with Jaelyn the other week. It was a real hit online.”

“Wait, are you her manager?” he asked, recognizing her voice. “We spoke on the phone.”

“Yeah!” she exclaimed, eyes lighting up. “I didn’t think you remembered! I was so glad when Jaelyn told me everything worked out. Sorry about the crazy scheduling thing, though.”

“It’s okay,” Jared assured her. “Why don’t you ladies have a seat?” he added, directing his last statement at both of them.

“Actually, we have to be somewhere,” Jaelyn said politely. Jared met her gaze and, as he’d been afraid he would, found himself unable to look away.

“Why don’t we all exchange numbers?” he suggested then, hoping that keeping it open would keep Paris from accusing him of trying to get Jaelyn’s number.

“That’s a great idea,” Abbie said quickly, pulling out a handful of business cards. “Paris, I’d love to be able to let you know whenever we have our next house party. They’re always totally crazy.”

“Sure,” Paris said, sarcasm creeping into her voice. Jared knew it wasn’t long before she would get impatient and quickly tore his eyes from Jaelyn’s.

“Just call Abbie if you need me,” Jaelyn said, declining Jared’s phone as he attempted to hand it to her. “It was nice seeing you.”

Abbie frowned as Jaelyn walked away, then looked apologetically at Jared and Paris. “Sorry about that. She doesn’t like to give out her personal number. It’s so easy for it to get leaked, you know?”

“Yeah,” Jared said, not buying the excuse in the slightest.

“Here,” Abbie added, taking Jared’s phone and programming her number in. “I just got a new phone, so now you have the number.”

“Thanks.”

“Cool. Be seeing you.”

Abbie hurried off after Jaelyn and Jared looked down at his drink, knowing Paris would be glaring at him when he looked up. After a minute of silence, Paris scoffed and stood up.

“Yeah, obviously you’re not interested in her at all,” she snapped before storming away.

“Paris!” he called, making no move to go after her. Once she had disappeared around the corner, Jared leaned back in his seat and sighed. He was going to pay for that somehow, he just knew it. As he stood up to leave, he checked his phone to see what Abbie had put into it, and a grin shot across his face. The name in his phone wasn’t Abbie’s at all.

It was Jaelyn’s.