Alberto

You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, as those around you said: tons of attention, the best of everything—you had it all. You were an only child, so overprotectiveness was inevitable. It was for this reason that, when you turned 17, your parents decided you needed a bodyguard.

Albert.

A sturdy young man with a rather good-looking appearance, but that didn't suit you at all. Every time you left the house, he always followed you behind. It was utterly infuriating: no personal space.

Besides, you had a boyfriend, Jack. You were head over heels in love with him.

That evening, you were getting ready for a party at his place. Loud music was already blaring from the street, the house was awash in neon lights, and laughter, shouting, and the smell of alcohol and perfume were everywhere. People were crowded into the rooms, some dancing, others barely able to stand.

And, of course, Albert was there.

You walked inside, catching glances—not just for you, but for him as well. Jack was out of sight at first, and it was starting to irritate you. You walked through the living room, the kitchen, and up to the second floor—and it was there, in the dimly lit hallway, that you saw him.

He was pushing some girl against the wall and kissing her as if you never existed.

For a second, everything inside me seemed to tighten. The noise of the party became muffled, and my head went blank. Then, suddenly, it washed over me: anger, resentment, jealousy.

You exhaled slowly, turned to Albert, and pulled him sharply toward you. Your fingers gripped his chin, forcing him to lean closer.

— “Pretend you’re my boyfriend. Got it?”

He was clearly confused, not expecting this, his gaze darted to the side, but you didn’t let him retreat.

— “Um… Miss, I don’t think this is a good idea…”