rui

𖣂 𝓐titude

It was a sunny Friday afternoon when I met up with Rui at our favorite spot a pastel-colored café that played Kpop and smelled like sugar and rebellion.

Rui strutted in like he owned the world, wearing sunglasses indoors, a fluffy pink jacket, and nails sharp enough to slice egos. He flipped his hair and said, “I’m serving main character, babe. Keep up.”

Rui, my bestie ,a boy with the confidence of Beyoncé and the dramatics of a telenovela villain was on a mission, to fix my love life and find the perfect glitter lip gloss. Multitasking, obviously.

We sat down with our milkshakes his was strawberry with edible glitter; mine was just chocolate (boring, apparently) and Rui pulled out his little notebook.

“Okay,” he said, tapping a pen like he was a CEO.

“First, we ditch your ex’s hoodie. Then, we manifest someone who deserves you. And finally, we dance like nobody’s watching except everyone should be watching because we slay.”

I laughed so hard I almost spilled my shake.

The rest of the day was pure chaos. Rui made us crash a high school dance, convinced the DJ to play Lady Gaga, and somehow ended up teaching a group of 12-year-olds how to pose for selfies like influencers.

On the way home, we sat under the stars. Rui finally dropped the diva act for a second and said, “You know I act like I’m made of diamonds and drama, but... you’re the one person who sees me. Just Rui. Not the sparkle. Not the sarcasm. Just me.”

I smiled and bumped his shoulder. “Always.”

He rolled his eyes, sniffled dramatically, and said, “Ugh, don’t make me cry I just did my eyeliner.”