Weeks went by without him seeing his friends, just shut inside the house. Even though he made that decision on his own, I always blamed myself for the end of their marriage. If I had been the son my mom always wanted, they wouldn’t have separated—they’d still be together. Maybe if I…

    If I had known sooner that my mom’s love for me was limited—and that she would do what she did—I would never have come out to her as bisexual.

    Luckily, my dad was completely different from her. More attentive, affectionate—far more human than she ever was. But she was the love of his life. They’d been together since he was 23. Twenty-one years of marriage. They did everything together, went out every week, liked staying in the living room watching something on TV.

   My dad chose to lose the love of his life instead of abandoning me, and I’ll never be able to thank him enough for everything he sacrificed for me.

   I’ll admit that at first I didn’t like the idea of my dad seeing someone new. Larissa, ever since she met me, had always acted like a genuinely nice person. A lot of the time, her personality reminded me of Aunt Karla’s, even though Larissa was five years older than her. The more I got to know her, the more I understood why my dad liked her so much.

   Thankfully, my dad invited me to dinner with him and Larissa right after I left Giovanna’s place, where I’d spent the whole day.

   “I heard you met the actors from that show,” Larissa commented.

   “Not just met them—he made sure to get them drunk,” my dad added.

   “What did you guys do?” she asked, taking a sip of her wine.

   I scooped some farofa onto my plate, where the grilled meat from the steakhouse was cooked to perfection.

   “Nothing special—we just went to BlueHouse,” I said, grabbing a piece of meat and dipping it in the farofa before eating it.

   “You went out drinking and came back married to a blue doll,” my dad said, not even trying to help.

   I could’ve said he was lying, but according to what Gih told me over text (after she cooled off), I had actually been walking around with a blue BlueHouse doll saying we were married.

   I still cringe thinking about it…

   “A blue doll?” Larissa laughed. “I didn’t think your love for Avatar went that far, Pedro.”

   I laughed too, because the first thing I thought when I walked into BlueHouse for the first time was that I was in the middle of Pandora’s forest. It was actually Larissa who made me realize how much I loved the Avatar universe, when she took me to see the second movie in theaters. Honestly, I liked the first one—the visuals, the story—but it was the second one that made me understand why she had two tattoos inspired by it.

   Dinner with them was great. We laughed a lot and ate even more. Unfortunately, we had to head back to the hotel, since that night my dad had a meeting with the QueerFlix team to talk about their event.

   On the way back, Larissa went to her mom’s house, where my dad would pick her up in the morning. When we got to the hotel, I expected to see Clarice, but she wasn’t at the front desk. Instead, I found Eduardo flirting with another guest.

   “You know what’s gonna happen if my dad catches you in a guest’s room again, right?” I asked, leaning on the counter.

   Eduardo was cool—even though he was straight, he was the kind of guy everyone liked having around, and not just because of his looks.

   “That hasn’t happened in a long time,” he said, grabbing his phone near the keyboard. “Besides, from what 

   I’ve seen, you’re the one sleeping with guests.”

   I straightened up, frowning slightly.

   “Who told you that?”

   “No one. I saw that guy going into your room yesterday. And just by coincidence, I was walking down your hallway when he left this morning.”

   His expression made it clear he thought something had happened—which definitely hadn’t.

   “Nothing happened like what you’re imagining…”

   “No need to explain, Pedrinho. Your secret’s safe with me.”

   He turned his phone screen toward me. It was a picture he took with David near the elevator.

   “I used up all my English just to get a picture with him,” Eduardo laughed. “My sister’s gonna love this.”

   “You know bothering guests is against the rules, right?” I asked.

   “Does that look like someone who’s annoyed?” he said, showing the picture again.

   David had a small, closed-lip smile. It was obviously genuine, not one of those forced ones for photos.

   “Look, that’s—”

   “Pedro!” Aly’s voice cut me off. When I turned, she had a wide smile on her face. “Good, I was looking for you.”

   “For me?”

    She walked up, grabbed her phone, and started typing. Her hair looked different from the last time I saw her. Instead of braids, she had a headband, her curls loose and more voluminous.

    “Don’t you have your phone?” she asked. “I sent you a bunch of messages—I even thought you were ignoring me… were you ignoring me?”

   “No, of course not.” I grabbed my phone—there were missed calls on Instagram and dozens of messages.

    “Good, you’re already ready,” she continued, clearly excited. “You’re going out with us tonight.”

    “Going out with you guys?”

   “No point trying to escape,” she warned. “Last time you made everyone go back early. Tonight we’re enjoying the whole night. And unless you already have plans, I’m not taking no for an answer.”

   Across the lobby, David and Phillip stepped out of the elevator, looking straight at us. Even from a distance, I could tell David was excited about going out again—and honestly, that alone was enough to make me say yes.

   Ever since I planned to stay at the hotel for a few days, my only goal had been to take every chance I could to be around them. If that was the plan when we were still strangers, there was no way I’d say no now that we were… friends. I guess I could call them that… right?

   “Oh, good—you found him,” David said, hands in his pockets. “So, are you coming with us?”

   “Of course he is,” Aly answered for me. “He’s our only Brazilian friend. He’s coming—or we’re throwing a party in the room.”

   I’ll admit, a burst of happiness exploded in my chest hearing that—they saw me as their friend too.

   “What about Elisa?” I asked.

   “Oh, she’s not coming tonight. Said she has a headache,” Phillip replied. “But she told us to take it easy—we’ve got work tomorrow.”

   “Was that a hint?” I asked jokingly.

   “No, that was very direct,” David said. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you tonight.”

   I held back a laugh.

   “Okay, I’ll go then.” I turned to Edu, who was way more focused on helping another guest now. “If my dad asks, tell him I’ll be back later.”

   “Yes, sir,” he said, giving an unnecessary salute that made me laugh.

[…]

   As soon as we got into BlueHouse, we went straight to the paint area. We got the same designs when the staff stuck the decals onto our hands. Before getting covered in paint, Aly asked them for a plastic bag to wrap her hair, so it wouldn’t get messy like last time.

    When we walked in, it was so crowded that Aly accidentally bumped into some guy. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed because she stepped on his foot or because he spilled his drink.

   There were way more people that night—way more than last time. How could a nightclub be busier on a Sunday than on a Friday?

   David did exactly what he said he would—he kept an eye on Phillip and me. During the first hour, we only had one drink, while David was still on his first.

   I was sitting at one of the tables, watching Phillip and Aly let loose on the dance floor. They both had moves, dancing like actual professionals while a remix of My House by Beyoncé played.

   I looked toward the bathrooms. It had been almost half an hour since David said he was going there, and he hadn’t come back. It started to feel weird. He said he just needed to use the bathroom—who takes 30 minutes to pee?

    My phone vibrated in my pocket. To my surprise, it was David calling me through Instagram. I answered, covering my other ear to block out the loud music.

   “Hello?”

    “Fuck,” was the first thing I heard, kind of distant.

   “David? Hello?”

   “Help me!”

   “David? What happened?” I asked, starting to get nervous at the shakiness in his voice.

   I couldn’t tell if his voice was actually shaking or if it was just the music.

   “I need your help,” he said, sounding genuinely scared—which only made me more anxious.

   “Where are you?”

   “Fuck!” I heard something hit, then silence.

   “David?”

   “In the bathroom!”

   The call dropped.

   My heart started pounding like everything around me was about to collapse. Hearing the fear in his voice made my stomach drop as I pushed through the crowd.

   What the hell happened?

   He sounded so scared that I thought maybe he got robbed, beaten up—something like that. Living in Brazil, a call like that could mean a lot of things, and I was afraid of all of them.

   “David!?”

   A guy was walking out of the bathroom when I got there, giving me a weird look that made me even more worried.

   “David?” I called as I pushed the door open.

   “I’m here,” I heard his voice from the back.

   The bathroom was empty.

   “What happened?” I asked, heading toward the last stall—then realizing he was actually in the third one from the back wall. “Are you okay?”

   “Not really,” he said, his voice tight. “Shit.”

   I leaned closer to the stall door.

   “What happened?”

   “Fuck, this is so messed up,” he muttered again. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

   “Tell what?”

   “Promise, Pedro. On your life.”

   I had no idea what was going on. It was starting to freak me out.

   “O-Okay, I promise.”

   He grumbled while unlocking the door.

   “Open it—but slowly,” he warned.

  I did what he said. The moment I saw him, I couldn’t believe it.

   And then I saw what was on the floor.

   “Help me, please,” he whined.

   My only reaction was to let out a loud laugh of relief.

   “I knew it—I should’ve called Phill,” he muttered.

   David was literally suspended above the toilet, his feet pressed against the walls, hands gripping the top edges of the stall—and on the floor… there was a cockroach.

   A small, harmless cockroach.

  “I’ll kill you if you tell anyone about this,” he threatened—but he was already laughing at himself. “Just get that thing out of here, please.”

   Before doing what he asked, I pulled my phone out.

  “Hey—hey—hey,” he snapped. “You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone.”

  “I’m just saving this to blackmail you later,” I said sarcastically, grinning as I took a picture.

  Click.

   “Stop it, Pedro. It’s wrong to laugh at people’s misery.”

   “You’re smiling now,” I said. He tried to hold a straight face. “Come on, David—give me a smile.”

   Reluctantly, he smiled—which quickly turned into a quiet laugh before I took another picture.

   “Alright, now get that thing out of here.”

  I stomped next to the cockroach, scaring it so it ran toward the drain in the corner behind me.

  “All good?” I asked.

   David looked at the drain—and finally climbed down.

   He’d been in the bathroom that whole time… because of a cockroach?