In the story, two strangers who had attended the same school for years finally had their paths intertwined, and from that moment on, what existed between them became far more than just a story about two young people. It was a collision between two different destinies, destined to lead them to the same shared point.

   Boy met boy, and then something much greater was born between them. Both carried their own internal challenges—fears, insecurities, limitations—that pushed them to grow so the connection between them wouldn’t break for good.

   In the end, they overcame the difficulties and made the changes that any relationship demands.

In my case, my connection with David also happened thanks to a little nudge from chance. Still, it hurts to remember that what began as an act of fate became far more than just an encounter.

  There was an invitation that was accepted, and even though everything seemed perfect, that moment marked the beginning of the biggest change I’ve ever had to make in my life.

   That night, music filled my room through a small speaker as I tried to decide which T-shirt to wear. At the same time, I danced along to the beat, holding the towel around my waist so it wouldn’t slip.

  The room heater was broken, which made the cold impossible to ignore. The hotel technicians had already been notified, but I had no idea when it would be fixed. Until then, I had to adapt to the cold—hence the two blankets on my bed and the slight goosebumps on my skin.

   I planned on wearing my good old denim jacket, but I still couldn’t decide which T-shirt to choose. Next to them, the dark twill trousers I’d picked out seemed like a good match with my white trainers, but the lighter trousers would look better with the brown shirt lying beside them.

  Taking a shower with Gilberto—no judgment, please, about the fact that I own a rubber duck named Gilberto—took longer than usual, which left me with less than thirty minutes to finish getting ready.

   Suddenly, the music was interrupted by my phone vibrating on the bedside table. On the screen, a message from Gih:

   I’m almost at the hotel. You’d better be ready!

   Damn it, I thought.

   

   I dropped the towel and quickly pulled on the lighter trousers. If Giovanna was already on her way, that meant I was more late than I’d imagined. I glanced at the mess on my bed and grabbed the brown T-shirt, slipping it on without hesitation.

   Ten minutes later, I was already heading down to the hotel lobby.

   Like the rest of the hotel, the entrance hall was decorated in lighter, warmer tones. The white marble floor had been replaced two years earlier, and the white walls were repainted every two months, leaving them spotless.

   To my father, the hotel’s appearance was something that had to be carefully maintained. That explained the ornamental plants placed at strategic points, the paintings by renowned Brazilian artists, and, on top of that, the classical music playlist that played almost twenty-four hours a day at a soft ambient volume.

   Any guest would swear each song had been carefully selected, but in reality, it was just a playlist I’d found on Spotify when my father asked me to take care of it.

   I spotted Giovanna frozen on the sofa near the pillar across from the reception desk. When I looked to the side, I immediately understood why. Elisa and Aly were sitting nearby, and I was sure that alone had made her lose her breath for a second.

   Even though I’d spent the entire afternoon convincing myself that everything David had said might have been nothing more than a delusion—and that the chances of it being just Gih and me were high—a spark of hope burned in my chest when it became clear I wasn’t imagining things.

   I remember standing there, in front of the elevator, using every last ounce of positive energy and good thoughts I had to silence the anxiety threatening to knock me down. The possibility of that night becoming something memorable still existed, and internally, I begged for it to happen. I didn’t want to wake up the next morning regretting having let an opportunity like that slip away out of fear or something similar.

   Giovanna stood up when she saw me, walking over with quick steps.

   “Boy, I’m going to kill you,” she muttered.

   Her outfit was classic Gih—somewhere between a pop diva fan and a girl who loved books as if they were the most important thing in the world. Which, technically, they are.

   She pinched my arm, and even through my jacket, I winced at the slight pain.

   “What did I do?” I asked.

   “What did you do?” she huffed, glancing over her shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me Elisa would be here?” 

   “I told you.”

   “Who in their right mind would believe that, Pedro?”

   Neither did I…

   “I’m seriously thinking about going back…”

   “No!” I blurted out, making her release my arm.

   I looked past her shoulder and saw Aly watching me with a restrained smile. I grabbed Giovanna by the arm and guided her back to the sofa. I tried to shut down the anxiety insisting it would be better to run back to my room and lock myself inside, pretending I’d never fainted.

   Even if everything went wrong, I could still get something out of it. I’d apologize for bothering them earlier and take a photo with each of them.

   Breathe, Pedro. Breathe… Breathe…

   Aly stood up. Unlike earlier, her curls weren’t loose. A white scarf with golden details covered her scalp, leaving her braids free down her back.

   “So David wasn’t lying after all,” she said. Before I could react, Aly pulled me into a hug, her sweet perfume filling my senses as I tried to hide the surprise on my face. “Tell me, are you feeling better now… Pedro, right?”

   I nodded, trying to control both my smile and my excited breathing.

   “David’s on his way,” she continued. “That boy forgets something every five minutes.”

   That earned a genuine laugh from me.

   “I see,” I said, attempting to hide the heat of embarrassment rising to my face.

   Silence settled for a moment until Giovanna broke it with a bright smile.

   “Nice to meet you, I’m Gih.”

   Aly took her hand, giving it a light shake.

   “Are you Pedro’s girlfriend?” she asked, curiosity in her eyes, though her smile never faded.

   “Girlfriend?” Giovanna burst out laughing, clearly overdoing it. “Me? Pedro’s girlfriend? Impossible. I’m just his one and only best friend.”

   “Wow, thank you, you really know how to boost my self-esteem,” I said.

   

   Aly laughed softly, her voice slightly high-pitched.

   “That’s good,” she said, then turned and nudged Elisa’s arm. “Elisa’s a bit quiet, but she’s happy to meet you too.”

   I could’ve sworn I saw Gih’s soul leave her body when Elisa looked at her and smiled. Giovanna had been a fan of hers since 2019, ever since she discovered her books. I still remembered the time she’d dragged me all over the city looking for Elisa’s newly released novels that had sold out during pre-orders.

   Knowing her, I was sure that internally Gih was screaming something like: Oh my God, it’s Elisa!!! Someone pinch me, it’s really her! Can I ask for a photo? If I run home and grab my books, will she sign them?

   As I laughed quietly at her dazed expression, something caught the corner of my eye, making me turn.

   David and Phillip were approaching, and my chest leapt as if I were standing at the edge of a cliff.

   If before everything had felt like nothing more than a possibility, seeing David made me feel as though I were dead and about to pass through the golden gates into paradise.

   He was well dressed. Dark trousers, black trainers, and a white T-shirt. One of the buttons near the collar was undone, revealing part of his collarbone and his necklace.

   Even though the night wasn’t warm, my chest burned as I took in his face. His expression was light, a restrained smile tugging at his lips while his calm gaze rested on us.

   Unlike David, Phillip wore dark jeans and a burgundy T-shirt. His jacket was light denim, with grey sweatshirt fabric on the sleeves and hood. The ripped details added an edge I really liked. David looked casually put together in his own way, but Phillip was unmistakably himself—and at his best.

   I noticed his dark-painted nails as Phillip ran a hand through his hair before speaking.

   “All right, I think we’re ready to go, aren’t we?”

   Aly rolled her eyes with mild amusement.

   “So, Pedro,” David began, slipping his hands into his pockets, “where are we headed?”

[...]

   Apparently, there was no one outside BlueHouse when the hotel van pulled over. Through the window, we could see that the entrance was calm, almost as if we were facing a private, silent nightclub. Beside the entrance, where the glass door remained closed, the security guard seemed oddly charismatic when we stepped out.

   There was no sign with the venue’s name, no plaque indicating where we were—just a few geometric neon lights glowing against dark walls, exactly like the images I’d seen on their Instagram profile.

   “Where are we?” Phillip asked as he stepped out of the van right after David.

   “This is BlueHouse,” I replied as I walked closer to the entrance. “It looks quiet, but I promise it’s a good place.”

   A cold wind brushed against us, making me shiver slightly. Even though it wasn’t one of São Paulo’s coldest winter nights, I already felt ready for something warm to drink.

   David smiled faintly when he saw me shiver again, slipping his hands into his pockets. Even from two steps away, I could smell his cologne carried by the cold breeze—warm, comforting, completely at odds with the air around us.

   “I hope it’s better inside than it is out here,” he commented, glancing across the street, where a bar was packed with people and live music blared loudly enough to be heard throughout the block.

   Aly passed by me, laughing excitedly.

   “Let’s go in already. I need a drink,” she said, stopping a couple of steps ahead of me. “They serve alcohol here, right?”

   I nodded, watching her head toward the entrance. After paying our cover charge—despite Phillip insisting that David pay for us—we were greeted by a young woman who couldn’t have been older than twenty. She wore a dark uniform splashed with neon-blue paint.

   “Don’t take these wristbands off,” she said as she approached.

   Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and her makeup was done entirely in shades of blue. Despite the dim lighting, I noticed the wary looks exchanged between everyone as we followed her down a wide corridor, tracing the glowing lines on the walls until another hallway appeared. The blue grew more vivid the farther we went, fully living up to the place’s name.

 

   At the end of the corridor, two men were waiting for us. The air there felt colder—definitely hidden air conditioning above us.

   “You can only choose one door,” one of them said, repeating it in English when he noticed the confused looks on the others’ faces.

   There were three doors. The one on the right had a star painted on it, the one on the left showed a flame, and the door straight ahead displayed a bird. Phillip immediately headed toward the star, followed by Elisa and Gih, who chose the bird. Aly, David, and I went through the door marked with flames.

   Behind it was another corridor—shorter and darker. Blue flames covered the walls, leading toward three more doors. This time, only one woman was waiting for us.

   “You’re in a fire,” she began. “You can only save one object from the flames. What do you save?”

   The doors were marked with new symbols: a picture frame, a book, and a laptop. Aly let out a lazy smile, as if the answer were obvious.

   “That one’s easy,” she said, heading straight for the door with the laptop.

   I bet Gih would’ve found it easy too—and honestly, she would’ve been wrong. The obvious choice was the picture frame. You could always buy another book or laptop. But what if that photo didn’t have a digital copy? If it was framed, it had to be important.

   I walked toward the door on the right—and froze when I realized David was heading there too. For a moment, I thought he’d choose the book; he’d always made it clear on social media how much he loved reading. I’d seen countless story updates over the years about his current reads. The last one was a spin-off from the Celestial Saga.

   “Just to you know,” he said, barely above a whisper, “I’m not following you. I just think photos matter more.”

   “I bet you’re just afraid of ending up alone and finding a cockroach,” I teased, remembering one of his most famous memes.

   His laugh was warm, and his cologne drifted close enough for me to catch its faint citrus sweetness.

   “That was supposed to be a secret,” he replied. “But I think I’d survive if a cockroach showed up.”

   “Oh, really?” I looked at the top of his head. “So you wouldn’t mind one crawling through your hair?”

   “Ha. Ha. Very funny,” he said dryly. “I’m not falling for that, Pedro.”

  I shrugged, letting out a quiet laugh.