Richard Rios Montoya

Richard was a very reserved man, even with you; he barely spoke, barely shared anything. He would just go to football practice, come back, and sleep. You hardly talked and had very little intimacy — only saying the basics — and he had always been cold toward you, treating you poorly 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. On a match day, Palmeiras against Vasco, Palmeiras lost 3 to 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, his face grim, the hatred evident in the way he held his breath and gripped the steering wheel, cursing in the massive São Paulo traffic.