“So, what did she think about you coming to Brazil?” I asked.

   “It’s not the first work trip I’ve done,” he began. “She handled it way worse when she found out I was going to spend three months in New York.”

   I remembered that. David had gone to New York to film a movie coming out next year. I’d been really excited to see how he’d do playing the son of Italian immigrants trying to achieve his dream of becoming a renowned physics professor.

   “Now she’s calmer knowing I made a friend here,” he finished.

   

   “What did you tell her about me?”

  

    “And who said I was talking about you?”

    That hurt less like a joke and more like a stab wound.

   “Oh…”

   David laughed.

   “I’m kidding,” he said before taking a sip of grape juice. “I told her you were someone I’ve been getting to know, you know? She was happy about it. My mum thinks I don’t make friends.”

   “And do you?”

   “I wouldn’t say I don’t. Working as an actor, you make friends here and there. But real friends? People I genuinely trust? That’s harder… Before LoveHeart, it was just me and Sof. Now there’s the others too — they’re basically family to me.” He paused briefly. “Well… I guess you’re someone I trust now too.”

   Something strange stirred inside me when David looked at me like that. A feeling of comfort, like being hugged even though he hadn’t moved at all. His eyes looked like they reflected the sky itself, as if the blue were trying to break through a layer of grey clouds.

   I didn’t know what that feeling was, but it felt familiar, almost like déjà vu.

   Silently, I let myself study his features — the curve of his jaw, the slope of his nose. His pink lips had turned slightly purple from the grape juice. His expression softened for a moment while he seemed to study my face too.

   The air suddenly felt cooler, sending a faint shiver down the back of my neck when I realized I’d been staring at him for far too long.

   The silence slowly broke when his phone rang, pulling me out of the strange peace I felt just from seeing him there, safe and not about to disappear.

   

   David looked mildly disappointed before answering the call.

   “What happened to your face?” a woman’s voice asked. “I didn’t think you got hit that badly.”

   “You should see the other guy. He looked way worse,” David joked.

   “Are you okay over there?” she asked.

   David pulled the phone slightly away from his face, relaxing his hand against his knee. I ended up catching a glimpse of her — dark wavy hair framing part of her flushed cheeks, makeup layered over tan skin. Sofya. I recognized her from photos David had posted in his Stories before.

   “Other than yesterday’s fight… yeah. How about you?”

   “Same as always… So, did you hook up with a girl last night? Oh wait, never mind, I saw you were with some guy yesterday. He’s cute, by the way. Shame he got punched trying to help you. So where’d you meet him? Does he have any friends?” she fired off rapidly.

   I don’t know if people will understand this feeling, but have you ever been so embarrassed that the only thing you can do is cover your face with your hand? Because that was exactly what David did.

   “Is he okay? I saw blood on his face in the video. What’s his name?” Sofya continued.

   At that point David looked at me, laughed awkwardly through flushed cheeks, and turned the camera toward me.

   Sofya’s amused expression instantly shifted into shock when she saw me.

   “Oh shit…”

   “M-My name’s Pedro… I’m totally fine, thank you,” I stammered, trying to ignore how hot my face suddenly felt.

   “Happy now?” David asked as he turned the camera back to himself.

   “No. Go take a shower and leave me here talking to your hero.”

   “My what?” David asked, while I silently wondered the exact same thing.

   “Go already, David. You look awful. It’s obvious you still haven’t showered.”

   David looked at me like, There’s nothing I can do about this, then simply handed me the phone and headed toward the bathroom.

    As if she’d been waiting for the bathroom door to close, Sofya immediately asked,

   “How is he?”

   I swallowed hard.

    “I’m not really sure, but he seems okay.”

   “Shit… Do you know if he cried?” Her voice dropped lower, like she was afraid he might overhear. “If I ask him directly, he won’t tell me the truth.”

   Should I tell her what I saw after we left BlueHouse?

   "I don’t think so,” I lied. “Probably not.”

   Maybe that was the wrong choice. Honestly, I didn’t know if David had actually been crying when we left BlueHouse or if he’d just been upset.

   “Okay,” she said, forcing a smile. “Please keep an eye on him… Pedro, right?”

   I nodded.

   “Sometimes David gets kind of distant, you know? And unfortunately I’m not there to help him.”

   “I’ll do my best,” I promised.

   Even if I wasn’t someone particularly close to David, I wanted to do whatever I could to make him feel more comfortable while he was in Brazil.

   Sofya didn’t stay on long. She quickly hung up, saying she needed to sleep, and I remained sitting on the sofa. I grabbed my phone to distract myself during the time David spent in the shower.

   When the bathroom door opened, my entire body caught fire the second my eyes landed on him.

   He was drying his hair with one towel while another hung low around his waist, leaving the upper half of his body completely bare.

   David saw me and startled, quickly stepping backward until his back hit the bathroom door.

   Did he forget I was still there?

   He stared at me and laughed. Then he silently grabbed his clothes from the closet and disappeared back into the bathroom.

   When he finally came out dressed in grey sweatpants and a white T-shirt, I stood up from the couch.

   “I should probably head back to my room.”

   “Alright,” he said with a crooked smile. He stepped closer, hands tucked into his pockets. “Thanks for what you did. Seriously.”

   “You don’t need to thank me.”

   The moment I reached my hand out to say goodbye, David lifted his arms slightly like he was about to hug me. But then he quickly lowered them and offered his hand instead.

   His palm was warm and soft. His gaze calm, like his eyes were a still, crystal-clear lake pouring that calmness into me.

   At the same time, it felt like standing in the rain — completely soaked, questioning my own sanity.