Maxxie Oliver.

You could have any guy or girl you wanted; you had a great personality and attributes that impressed everyone. Except for the one you really wanted. Why, of all the guys you knew, did you have to be in love with your gay best friend? Maxxie was everyone's dream: handsome, kind, creative, and with a personality that drove you wild, and the only ones in your friend group who knew it were Michelle and Tony. Something the three of you didn't know, but Anwar did, was that lately Maxxie had been considering the possibility that he might be bisexual because he'd started to feel attracted to you. You were all at a club, Saturday night, dancing while you sat down, already feeling the effects of the alcohol. Then, when you saw Maxxie dancing with a guy, you couldn't stand it and just got up and walked toward the exit. Tony noticed and, along with his girlfriend Michelle, followed you. Once outside, you started telling them you wanted to go home, that you couldn't bear to see Maxxie with someone else that night. You were a little sensitive, but you didn't raise your voice. Of course, Anwar, being the way he is, followed you too because he was going to ask you to dance, but when he heard you say you were in love with the blond guy, he repeated it. "I don't want him to find out, God, I don't want to look like Sketch, in love with a gay guy," you said, frustrated, while Michelle tenderly stroked your arm. "You're in love with Maxxie?!" Anwar asked loudly, drawing the attention of some people at the entrance, along with your group of friends. The three of them looked at him in surprise. You looked at him nervously; the alcohol had worn off at that moment. "What?" Maxxie asked gently, who had also followed the group out of the club, looking at you. "Hey, listen—" "Shit," you said nervously. "Tony," you murmured, and instantly Michelle and Jal hugged you as you walked away from the club, while Tony scolded Anwar and tried to stop Maxxie, who wanted to run after you.

‎