The bully's redemption

Zendaya's eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms over her chest, a sharp edge to her voice. "Wait, why do you need me to pretend to be your girlfriend? You've got enough girls fawning over you. Why me? Don't tell me you…"

Damon quickly cut her off, his expression tense. "It's not what you think," he said, shifting uncomfortably. "My parents would freak out about this... Whole thing. I just need you to pretend. Keep them off my back, just for a little while. Please."

Zendaya's gaze was skeptical, her brow raised as she took in his words. She studied him, trying to figure out what he wasn't saying. "So, you're doing this just to avoid a few awkward questions from your parents?" She let out a small, incredulous laugh. "You should just pick one girl and stick with her. It's really not that hard, is it?"

Damon hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away. The tension in his jaw told her this was harder for him than he was letting on. "I... I don't know. They expect so much from me, Zendaya. It's all about appearances with them. I just need a temporary solution." His voice faltered slightly, an unfamiliar vulnerability slipping through.

Zendaya stared at him for a moment, her eyes softening despite herself. She was used to Damon's cocky, carefree exterior, and seeing him like this—vulnerable, almost desperate—threw her off. Still, she folded her arms tighter and bit back a sigh. "Fine. Whatever. But don't think this means I'm suddenly your ally. I'm just doing this for you, and because I don't want to get caught up in whatever mess you've made for yourself."

Damon gave her a small, grateful smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Thanks. You won't regret it."

He turned quickly and left the room. Zendaya couldn't help but watch him go, a strange unease settling in her stomach. Why did it feel like she was walking into a trap, even if she was the one agreeing to help? She shook her head, dismissing the thought, and paced the room, her mind racing.

But it wasn't long before Damon returned, holding a neatly folded outfit in his hands. He looked at her with a smirk, though she could see a hint of nerves in his eyes. "Here. Put this on. You'll look amazing."

Zendaya's eyes widened in surprise as she took the clothes. "Bro, what the hell? How did you manage this in, what, five minutes?" She raised a brow, suspicion creeping into her voice. "Don't tell me you dug through your old closet for something I'm supposed to wear. What is this? Your past girlfriend's dress or something?"

Damon's expression stiffened, a flicker of annoyance flashing across his face. "No, it's not like that," he muttered, though the defensive edge in his voice was unmistakable. He quickly added, "I just... I know what works. Trust me. Just get changed. I'll be downstairs in a minute."

Zendaya folded her arms again, her eyes scanning the clothes as she tried to ignore the knot in her stomach. She wasn't sure why, but something about this whole situation felt off. Not just because of the clothes, but because Damon had asked her—of all people—to pretend to be his girlfriend. The Damon she knew didn't need help from anyone, let alone someone like her. She let out a frustrated sigh, trying to shake off the tension building inside her.

For a moment, she almost backed out. But then, a part of her—a part she wasn't entirely comfortable with—wondered what this was all really about. Could it really just be about avoiding parental expectations? Or was there more to this, something she hadn't yet figured out about Damon?

Shaking her head, she grabbed the clothes and went to change. The dress was bold—strikingly red, with a fitted waist and a flowing skirt that reached just above her knees. It was the kind of outfit that demanded attention, and she knew she'd look good in it, even if she didn't want to admit it.

As she looked at herself in the mirror, she felt a strange mixture of discomfort and curiosity. This wasn't her usual style. She was more about practicality and comfort, and yet, here she was, slipping into something far more glamorous than anything she'd ever wear for a simple day out. The tightness in her chest was gone, replaced by an odd sense of power. She turned once more in front of the mirror, trying to shake off the feeling that this was all too easy for Damon.

She heard footsteps approach and, just as she straightened up, Damon walked into the room. His eyes flickered over her, and his jaw tightened, but his smirk remained. "Damn, you clean up well."

Zendaya couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Well, you know... I am a lady," she said, though her voice was laced with sarcasm. But beneath that sarcasm was something else—a curiosity about where this strange charade was leading. Why had Damon been so insistent? Why did he need her of all people?

Damon's smile wavered for a brief second, and Zendaya caught the flicker of something in his eyes—a momentary crack in his cool demeanor. He quickly hid it with another grin. "Right. Let's get downstairs before my parents think I'm trying to pull some stunt."

Zendaya hesitated just long enough to glance at him, wondering whether this was really just about his parents' expectations or if it was something more. But before she could ask, Damon was already at the door, motioning for her to follow.

"Come on," he said, his voice tinged with something softer than usual. "It'll be over before you know it."

As they descended the stairs, Zendaya's thoughts whirled. Something about this whole situation felt like it was building toward something neither of them fully understood. Something was changing, but whether it would end in disaster or something else... she couldn't yet tell.