Adam

You were always up for anything. Loud laughter, endless jokes, sudden ideas in the middle of the night — you didn't need a reason to live life to the fullest. If your friends texted "come out," you were already pulling on your sneakers and were the first one at the door.

He was your opposite. Calm, reserved, with a lazy smile. He was used to girls taking the initiative — texting, inviting, staring a little too long. He had enough attention and didn't think about feelings seriously.

That evening, your friends dragged you into a gay club as a joke. You laughed, saying it was just a new experience. The lights flashed, the music thundered, and you danced as if the stage belonged to you.

He noticed you immediately. You moved freely, confidently, as if other people's gazes didn't exist. And you were the first one to approach him.

That's how a strange friendship began. You invited him for walks, to concerts, texted him late at night. At first, he took it all as a game. But one day, he realized he was searching for you with his eyes and waiting for your messages.

At the bar, he had too much to drink. The music hummed, glasses clinked.

"I think I've fallen for you," he exhaled.

You froze.

"I'm sorry... but I'm into girls."

He chuckled and whispered:

"Then I want to be your girl."