Not Your Type (Chris Pine FanFic)

Chris

Before his Thanksgiving holiday could begin Chris had a meeting, a very last minute meeting with his agent. It was almost evening, he would much rather be with his family, but he was on his way to an office. He pulled into the parking lot as he received a text from Chelsea.

"Happy Thanksgiving Eve! You have no idea how thankful for you I am."

He sighed. Here he was, about to deal with his grumpy agent and she sent him that thoughtful text. The timing was perfect. Chelsea was so kind and Aaron had been right, Chris didn't deserve someone that kind. Climbing out of the car and heading down the sidewalk he prepared to text her back. What to say? Then he felt a slap on his back.

"Well done!" It was Mansfield. "You made it believable. I almost fell for it."

Confused, Chris asked Mansfield what he was talking about.

"Your little girlfriend. The pictures have been perfect. That birthday party? Genius. You deserve an Oscar." His agent began to guide him into the building. "You just have one more person to convince. Or at least introduce your fake girlfriend to. Evidently Disney's CEO has a kid and is completely enamored with little Miss Garcia."

"What are you talking about?" Chris asked as he wondered what on earth the CEO of Disney could possibly want with him. PR people, sure, they wanted money. Hell, he'd even talk to accounting. But a CEO? It made him slightly nervous.

"Mr. Iger is here to invite you and your," Mansfield stopped and laughed again, "girlfriend to a dinner this week."

They kept walking, "This week?" Chris questioned, "It's Thanksgiving."

"You mean you didn't invite your pretend girlfriend over to your parents house?" Mansfield couldn't stop chuckling. "From the looks of those pictures at the flea market you filled them in on your dilemma. That or they literally love her."

They walked into an elevator. The small space made it feel like Chris couldn't breathe. For a few days, maybe weeks even, he'd forgotten about this mess. He honestly thought he was through with it. He sighed. Mansfield heard him and softened his tone, "Look, I know it's a lot to ask. You've done everything by the book, you have. The public is eating the two of you up. Disney is thisclose," Mansfield held up two fingers centimeters away from each other, "to letting you on the promotional tour. They sure as hell aren't breathing down my back anymore. I've already lined up couple offers for you. They're pretty spectacular shit too. A list stuff. Clooney turned one down just because of timing. It's got Oscar written on it. Less than a month and people are already in love with you again. You did good kid." Mansfield slapped his back again as the elevator doors opened. Chris hesitated. Everything he was just told was fantastic, but he felt awful. "Are you coming? What's wrong with you?"

Chris shook his head. "Nothing, just getting my head in the game." He walked out of the elevator, stood up straight and walked in.  

An hour later he was walking out, laughing and chatting with Mr. Iger one of a handful of CEO's of Disney. Iger talked about how much he liked what he had seen of the movie. He talked about his daughter, a second grader. Chris mentioned his niece who was roughly the same age. They swapped stories and laughed, he was great at making people like him. But it was fake. He hadn't seen his niece in months, he was actually quite awkward around children. Iger patted his back like Mansfield had done multiple times that morning and then handed him a card.

"This is the address. It's the ranch in Ojai. It's beautiful, secluded and romantic. You'll love it. My wife cannot wait." And with that he was gone.

Chris stood watching the street. He noticed couple, completely normal couple, oblivious to the building he just came out of. They didn't look in his direction, they walked hand in hand down the street. As they passed Chris, the woman leaned over and placed her head on the man's shoulder. He sighed angrily. Now he felt jealous and guilty and excited. He needed therapy. He was excited about the possibilities. He held two scripts in his hands, both fantastic. Iger had been eager to pass word on to his associates about how pleasant Chris had been. Iger said, "There is no way you are that womanizer the world was making you out to be. You are a good man." Chris felt physically ill as he remembered those words. He wasn't a good man at all. He had started a relationship, a relationship he selfishly enjoyed, that was based on a lie. The guilt overcame him and he had to sit down. He walked over to a small wall and leaned against it. He pulled his hat down low and pushed his sunglasses up, so no one could see him. He felt nauseous. Upon entering the building the lies had started again, he told Iger he already had planned to see Chelsea Friday and he would simply let her know of the change of plans. He scoffed at himself. For all he knew she was in Denver. Glancing up he saw the couple just as they were about to turn the corner. For the first time in a very long time he wished he was anonymous.

"Feeling a little jealous?" A photographer sat next to him.

"Shit," Chris muttered, turning away, "Go away."

"Man, you look like you're having a day. Here," the photog handed Chris a cup of coffee. He eyed it suspiciously. "You won't get that unless you disappear, quit your job."

"Because people like you won't leave me alone." Chris muttered.

"Oh please, don't pretend you don't have your people calling my people. I know your life is one hundred percent PR right now Captain." Then the man turned on his phone and showed him a text. In the text was Chelsea's address, the date from a few weeks ago. The birthday party.

"How?" Chris whispered.

"Don't play me, man. I gave you my coffee." Chris knew better than to say anything. He just pulled his sunglasses off and eyed the man.

"Leave her alone." He sipped the coffee, it was awful.

"Not until you do, man. You know the game. You put her into this mess and she's already been to hell and back. Between that tornado mess at her school, then her husband, shit," the man shook his head as Chris' shot over to him.

"Husband?"

The photog laughed, "Further proof this is staged. I don't know what game you're playing, I sure as hell don't know why America's little teaching hero is in on it either, but I completely understand why she wouldn't tell you about it. She's pretty mum on the whole thing. None of the interviews mention it, ever. The only stuff we could find was in San Antonio in their newspaper because he was from there. Sad story." The sleazy man stood up, "No matter. You're getting what you want." He turned his camera on and began to flip through pictures, showing Chris pictures of him walking out of the building with Iger. "Getting on a positive side with Disney is gold, what with them owning half the free world and all. Happy Thanksgiving man." He walked away.

Now Chris felt angry and he couldn't figure out who he was most angry at. He was angry at the stupid photographer for knowing so much about an innocent woman. He was angry at Chelsea for not telling him she was married. And he was angry at himself. He started to call Chelsea, the abruptly hung up. There was no reason to have that conversation over the phone. Chris smirked, he'd drive over to her house. That would give him time to calm down and she probably wouldn't be there anyway. But if she was, then he could tell her he tried to talk to her in person about it when he called her later. Who doesn't tell a person they're dating about being married?

In a huff he jogged to his car and took off to Pasadena.