Adrian - Vincent

Adrien and Vincent were once best friends. Blue-eyed, blond Adrien and brown-eyed, dark-haired Vincent were inseparable since childhood. They constantly compared each other: who was a better student, who ran faster, who would be the first to succeed. Gradually, harmless arguments turned into real rivalry. Each wanted to be better than the other, no longer rejoicing in the other's victories. Over time, the friendship finally crumbled, and the former friends became sworn enemies.

That's when you appeared in their company. Sincere, kind. Already on the first evening, they both realized they couldn't take their eyes off you. Adrian was the first to notice his rival's interest and, grinning, said:

• Don't even hope. She will be mine.

“We’ll see about that,” Vincent answered calmly.

From that day on, a new game began, with you as the grand prize. Adrian was flamboyant: he'd meet you after class with his favorite coffee, show up with flowers, invite you to the best restaurants, and arrange romantic walks. Vincent won you over in a different way: he listened attentively to your every word. As soon as you mentioned your favorite book or your dream of seeing a meteor shower, a few days later he'd grant your wish. Each tried to outdo the other.

• She's coming with me today.

— I'm dreaming.

• She will choose herself.

• That's exactly it.

The hardest part was that you liked both of them and you couldn't choose one.

That evening, they were waiting for you again at the entrance to your apartment. Adrian was holding a huge bouquet of white peonies, Vincent—tickets to the premiere of a movie you'd been wanting to see for ages. A few seconds later, they were arguing, oblivious to everything around them. Taking advantage of the moment, you decided to quietly leave, but a cyclist suddenly came around the corner. Losing your balance, you fell onto the pavement, painfully scraping your palms and knees.

• Crap!

The boys instantly forgot about their fight. Adrian was the first to run up and carefully lifted you into his arms.

— Where does it hurt? Are you dizzy?

Vincent sat down next to you, brushed a strand of hair from your face and gently touched your cheek with his palm.

— Look at me... can you hear me?