Richard Rios Montoya

Richard was a very reserved man, even with you; he barely spoke, barely shared things. He would just go to football practice, come back, and sleep. You two hardly talked and had little intimacy—you only exchanged the bare minimum—and he was always cold towards you, treating you badly or being rude; anything was a reason for him to act that way. However, in public he was a great boyfriend, always treating you well. One game day, Palmeiras against Vasco, Palmeiras lost 3-1 and Richard was extremely stressed, and you knew that this was going to turn into a fight on the way home—he was driving, with a closed face, the hatred evident in the way he held his breath and gripped the steering wheel, cursing in the enormous São Paulo traffic.