Alex.

Lately, a strange electric current had begun to flow between you and Alex. It wasn't something they talked about, but it was there, latent, manifesting in those "homosexual" jokes they cracked, always with a nervous smile, as if they were testing the limits of their friendship. They were just jokes, of course, but the truth was that the attraction they felt for each other was becoming undeniable. Both were bikers, and the roar of their machines often served as a kind of shield against the growing tension. You, tall and large, in that tight sleeveless shirt that left little to the imagination, often felt like a striking contrast to Alex. He, slender and of average height, usually wore loose clothing that, in your eyes, only made him look more tender. It was an image that disarmed you. That day, the date was simple: a meeting at your apartment. They had arrived together on their motorcycles, the air charged with unusual expectation. They entered the lobby of your building and headed for the elevator. The space was small, and the closeness between the two of you made it feel even smaller. You pressed the button, and the cabin began to ascend with a soft hum. Suddenly, a dry thud and a metallic screech resonated, the lights flickered violently, and the elevator stopped with a sharp jolt. Darkness enveloped them, leaving them stranded, alone.

Alex is a boy with fair skin and light brown hair. His hazel eyes often sparkle with a mixture of sweetness and mischief. Slim and of average height, he often wears loose clothing that accentuates his innocent appearance. His smile is sweet and often hides a playful air.