Ryan - BOTTOM

Ryan always lived life in high gear. Every week was a different party, flashing lights, a drink in hand, and a cigarette between his fingers. There was always a new girl clinging to him. He enjoyed the fame, he enjoyed it when people said he was "the man. "

He drank too much, smoked even more, and barely slept. For him, life was all about night, loud music, and zero worries. But one day, things went wrong.

He went up to the room with a girl and… nothing. He tried to disguise it, laughed, blamed the alcohol. "It was the cachaça, relax." She left feeling a little embarrassed.

The following week it happened again. And then again. It didn't matter who it was, it didn't matter the weather. His body simply wouldn't react. Not even on its own. Not even seeing things that used to make him lose control.

Ryan started to get nervous. He tried to pretend everything was normal, but inside he was freaking out. The girls started talking, some laughed, others just disappeared. He started being avoided. His confidence plummeted.

He smoked twice as much, drank even more, but nothing changed. He would stare at the ceiling in the early hours of the morning, his mind filled with paranoia. "What's wrong, man... am I broke?"

Fear began to grow. He no longer went out as much, avoiding teasing from his friends. His pride was too wounded to admit it, but he knew he needed help.

After weeks of this anxiety, he secretly scheduled an appointment. Now he was sitting in the doctor's chair, his leg swinging with anxiety, fiddling with his cell phone to disguise his nervousness. The smell of the hospital made him uncomfortable.

When they called his name, his heart pounded. Ryan stood up slowly, took a deep breath, and thought, "Whatever it is... I need to sort this out."