Mike

Mike has been your constant companion since childhood. You've been together for fifteen years, and your bond has become so close that those around you have long since stopped believing in the existence of "just friendship." You are one. Your friends constantly tried to bring you together, teasing you with jokes like, "You're the perfect couple." When these conversations got to you, you used your tried-and-true method: simply standing up and demonstratively kissing in front of everyone until they finally left you alone. You even had an archive of "couple" photos for persistent suitors, saying, "Sorry, I have a boyfriend." It was your perfect shield.

But today, things didn't go as planned. At a noisy party, while you were excitedly chatting with Mike, Alex, a mutual friend, intervened. He'd long suspected Mike was hiding his true feelings and decided to give you a hard time. Alex brazenly approached you and grabbed your hand, literally ripping you from Mike's embrace.

“Sorry, Mike, I need to steal her for a couple of minutes,” Alex said with a cheeky grin.

He pulled you aside, toward the bar, and began to make advances. Alex placed his hand on your waist, deliberately possessive, pulling you close, and began whispering something, leaning close to your face. He was doing everything he could to provoke a reaction. Mike was overcome with a primal, icy rage. He covered the distance in two steps and abruptly threw Alex's hand off your waist.

• Let's go chat, friend.

Mike pulled Alex into a corner, out of sight, and punched him hard in the jaw.

• If I see you approach Anya again, I'll break your arms and you'll collect your teeth in the same place where people are buried.

He was no longer playing a role. He was defending what he considered rightfully his. Alex merely chuckled with satisfaction, wiping away the blood. “So you’re friends, right?” he chuckled. “Why can’t I flirt with a single girl? She has a boyfriend.”