...

...

This is me, Rafael, but everyone calls me Rafa. I'm 23 years old and single. I'm gay, I came out at 16, surprising a total of zero people. I've always been flamboyant, what can I say? I was born to shine.

Another day down! My feet are killing me, my God, I'm so tired. At least this way I'll fall asleep fast! But it's not always like this. When I'm alone, my thoughts demand my attention for feelings I want to ignore, memories I want to forget, and dreams I want to abandon.

I always feel frustrated for not being where I wanted to be, I feel incapable of finishing what I start, I feel insecure about my appearance and my body. It's as if I never thought I deserved anything good in my life. My brain constantly reminds me of the goals I haven't achieved and the things I haven't experienced yet. I feel small and fragile, but nobody sees that.

What everyone sees is a crazy and outrageous gay guy, vain, with an uncontrolled sexual appetite, and so on, a cluster of stereotypes.

What I mean is, everyone sees me as happy, cheerful, content with life. They think that because I'm out, I'm strong, they treat me as if I were made of steel. No one sees my pain and my fears, they only see the fun-loving friend, ignoring the wounds in my heart.

I don't feel like talking to anyone, not even Isadora, my best friend. It's exhausting having to change the label from "crazy queen" to "depressed queen." I have zero patience for people treating me like this:

"Oh, don't be like that, you have to be strong, you're so young."

"Look at all you have!"

"You have to want to get better!"

"There are people worse off than you!"

Ugh, come on! I've heard so many clueless people saying this to those who are suffering. You know that saying "talking helps?" Well, it doesn't help worth shit. What's going to change in my life by telling my problems to someone who's more screwed up than I am?

I'll keep surviving like this for as long as I can. When the time comes, and if I need to, I'll see what I do.

I work at a designer clothing store. Today was a new collection launch, so everything was chaos! The ladies were there in full force. Just because I'm gay, they think I understand everything about fashion, but the fact is, I know next to nothing, just enough not to embarrass myself. I usually wear what I think looks good. But since I'm not here to "educate" anyone, I pretend to be the biggest fashion guru in the entire world. How? By making it up as I go along. It always works.

I live with my mother. My father left when I was six years old. I think he wasn't very happy to have an effeminate son. In the end, it was for the best, because between having a father who beats me and my mother, and not having a father, I prefer the second option. My mother had breast cancer two years ago. Because of that, I dropped out of dance school to work and help pay for her treatment. She received government assistance, but it wasn't enough, so I decided to help. I never regretted it. My mother is everything to me, she's always been there for me, helping and supporting me, so what I did was the least I could do.

Dance has always been my passion. I feel free when I dance; I can release my pain and anguish. But being on scholarship at a college full of rich kids was a nightmare. It was definitely the worst year of my life. Every day I was attacked with insults and mockery for being poor, gay, and effeminate.

They would laugh at the clothes I wore, my secondhand school supplies, my lack of resources for the courses and extracurricular activities that the college offered.

They always left me out of parties; I was the only scholarship student in the course, the only one who couldn't afford the entrance fees for the clubs, the bar tab, or any of that.

They made me ashamed of myself, of who I am and where I came from. I wouldn't open my mouth to speak because I was afraid; my voice back then was more effeminate than it is now. I used to gesticulate more when I spoke, I laughed loudly, and I was spontaneous.

All of that was a reason for them to laugh at me and make fun of me, to imitate me and ridicule me. After a while, I just wanted to be invisible. I was afraid of being "too gay" and ending up getting beaten up or worse.

After a while, I got out of that hellhole to help my mother. Since then, I use any excuse not to go back there. I hate that place with all my might.

With time away from those horrible people, I went back to normal, or almost. There was a lot of trauma left behind: the insecurity, the shame, the fear.

I don't like to be touched or hugged. Never, ever, under any circumstances do I use public restrooms.

One day, if I have the courage, I'll tell you why.

But now I like to attract attention; this is my way of getting revenge and showing those people that people like me exist and are everywhere! To show them that they didn't defeat me and that I won't hide.

Tomorrow is Friday, and I'm going out to hunt. I want to sit on a hot guy until I forget my own name.

I know I'll be used, but I'm going to use them too. I feel like for a casual hookup, no-strings-attached sex, for those things, I'm good enough. As one guy once said, I have the "face" for it.

But for dating, well, I'm not interesting enough to keep anyone in a relationship.

So, since everyone thinks I'm a slutty bitch, I'm not going to disappoint them, right? If it's for the greater good, tell everyone I'm DTF!

I'm going to the club in my best outfit, dance the sexiest way I know how, get wasted, and fuck like crazy.

I may not have a Prince Charming or a happy ending, but nobody can deny me sex and fun.

Even if at the end of the night I feel empty and sad, even if I feel like worthless trash with no future, I will still keep fighting this war between my heart and my mind, which seems to have no end.

...

...

This is me, Bernardo de Sa Ribeiro.

I'm 25 years old, studying Advertising, single, and straight.

My goal is to reach the top and be recognized for my own achievements. I want to win and prove to everyone that I am not dependent on my father, that I know how to walk on my own two feet. I want to prove that, contrary to what everyone thinks, I am not a spoiled brat who has everything handed to him. I will prove what I am capable of and how far I can go, even if it takes my entire life.

I've heard many jokes, from people who claimed to be "just kidding" saying that I was a spoiled daddy's boy. That my father bankrolled me in everything, that it was he who did half of my work and projects. It didn't matter how hard I tried, how many nights I spent studying, in the end they always said that I didn't deserve it, that it wasn't my merit, that I was helped by my father.

They belittled me many times, made me feel incapable, useless, and undeserving of my achievements, and that destroyed me for a long time. It depressed me and brought me down. Until I decided that no one would ever step on me and my dignity again.

The biggest encourager of my decision was Alice, my ex-girlfriend. One day I arrived at college earlier, and she was sitting at the table with other colleagues. I heard her say:

"What I'm saying, guys, is that Be is such a good investment. He banks me, introduces me to the most important people in society, helps me with classes, comes from a rich family, and is hot. In other words, he is the perfect victim, and the best part is that I don't have to be faithful because Be is always busy with his studies and doesn't even realize that he's being cheated on."

Being treated like an investment opened my eyes to reality. Everyone who got close to me treated me like someone inferior and incapable. Nobody ever really believed that I was capable of doing what was asked of me.

I decided not to get involved with anyone until I reached my goal. Maybe not even then. I will never again trust that someone's feelings for me are true; there will always be doubts.

Would it really be love or just interest?

Today I am a broken guy inside.

I'm ashamed of who I am. And my family.

My family is only rich in money, but my parents hardly ever speak to each other, they sleep in separate rooms, my mother lives sad and depressed, and my father is frustrated and unhappy, and I am right in the middle of it all.

It hurts me to see my mother destroying herself day after day, living on antidepressants and tranquilizers. My father lives for his obsession with paintings. He buys and collects paintings by anonymous artists.

I would have grown up alone and abandoned if it weren't for my best friend Renata. She was always by my side, inviting me to spend vacations with her and her family. I spent almost every weekend at her house and we were always together. She's the sister I never had.

I always knew Re was different but it never bothered me. When she was 13 she started wearing men's clothes. The day she arrived at school wearing baggy jeans, sneakers and a cap was a crazy day. She was happy, her face was glowing, and it was as if she was really being herself at that moment.

Her parents accepted Re's decision well. They took her to therapy and everything.

She underwent hormone treatment and began her transition. At 18, she had surgery to remove her breasts, and I was with her every step of the way. On the day her name was changed on her documents, I threw a big party. My friend was finally happy and complete. Renata is now Renan, my best friend since forever, and I have never been as proud of anyone in my life as I am of him.

Renan went through a lot, and I never saw him complain, get sad or depressed, even after the end of his relationship with that plague Barbara. They had been dating since they were 16. Renan really loved that girl, and she seemed to accept his transition well.

But then, when Renan was still in the hospital recovering from his mastectomy, that she-devil simply sent a message breaking up with him, saying that she wouldn't be able to stay with him looking like a man, that she was a lesbian and liked women, and that it had been a mistake to let things get as far as they did. That's it, a single message with no right of reply, since she changed her number, left town and disappeared.

It took Renan a long time to get over it. He didn't lock himself in the dark or anything, but for a whole year he didn't get involved with anyone. After a year, he hooked up with some random girl at a club, and after that, it was all downhill. He started picking up everyone, a different girl every night, but it never went beyond that.

I'm not the best advisor for these love things, so I just support him, just like he always does with me.

Renan keeps telling me to go clubbing with him, to have fun together, but I'm not really in the mood to be a third wheel. I know he's going to pick up some girl and I'm going to be stuck there looking like a fool.

I was running out of excuses to give him, when out of nowhere he called me and said that I had to go to a club with him because it was his birthday and I had an obligation to be there.

There's no denying a request like that, so, even without a shred of excitement, I decided to accept and make my friend happy.

I'm going to the party, I'm going to enjoy myself as much as I can, and as soon as Renan disappears with some random girl, I'm going to sneak out and go home.

What could possibly go wrong, right?

Bernardo's POV

Why the hell did I agree to this gay club thing? I'm not even gay, I can already tell tonight is going to be one hell of a night. Only Renan could drag me out of the house for this.

The place is packed, people of all kinds, and a ton of couples making out. It's not like I don't enjoy it, but rubbing my singlehood in my face is a bit much, don't you think? I've been in a dry spell for months and seeing a bunch of people getting it on isn't exactly making me feel better. I need to get laid; it's going to be mission impossible to find a straight woman here. Ugh, this night just keeps getting worse.

Renan, oddly enough, is still here by my side.

"What's up, Ze? Afraid I'm gonna get jumped or something?"

"No, I'm just making sure you don't act like a jerk and sic your girl on me if some dude comes on to you, you scaredy-cat."

"Okay, is this some sort of intervention?"

"No, this is an intervention, dude. You need to live a little, and get laid, mainly to see if it improves that mood of yours. Life's not all about studying, you know!"

"Fine, whatever. I want a drink!"

"Now you're talking my language."

We went to the bar, ordered our drinks, and started watching the crowd. There was one table that was being really loud, which was starting to annoy me. Why so much noise? Isn't the loud music enough already? Inconsiderate people.

The music changed and started playing Funk. That's it, I'm out of here! I hate Funk, I truly despise it. I kept watching the commotion at the noisy table, the yelling only got louder when the music started playing.

A guy came out dragging a girl by the hand until they reached the dance floor, and they started dancing. The guy had long hair tied back in a bun, was wearing black pants and a black shirt, the shirt completely unbuttoned, showing off his abs and the V-shaped line of his waist. Not that I was checking him out, but it was hard not to notice with him flaunting it like that. The girl was blonde, pretty even.

They started dancing, the girl more shy, the guy more daring. It seemed like he had loose hips, the way he moved them to the ground, attracting the attention of all the guys – except mine, of course.

I was looking at the girl, that's right. She glanced in my direction and whispered in the ear of the guy, who laughed out loud. She was smiling happily, and out of nowhere, she started walking towards me, smiling seductively. Well, well, well, a hottie like that coming on to me? Today must be my lucky day. I smiled and took a step towards the blonde.

The girl walked right past me and went up to Renan, who was leaning against the bar, both hands gripping the counter. She stopped in front of him, leaned in, and planted a kiss on his lips. My friend was speechless for a second, just a second, because in a flash, he was like an octopus, hands all over the girl's waist.

Great, I got left hanging and played the fool. There's no way this night could get any worse.

I spotted the guy who was dancing coming towards me with a very sly smile on his face. Damn, spoke too soon. It can always get worse!

Rafael's POV

Isa and I are at a club we always go to; tonight, I want to dance a lot and pick up a really hot guy. We went to the dance floor, and Isa spotted a guy she liked. Since she had already had a few drinks, I encouraged her to lose her shyness and approach him. My friend is way too shy, always waiting for the guys to make the first move, and she often misses her chance and ends up alone at these things. But not tonight; I'm going to teach her that she can take the initiative and approach any guy she wants. The worst that can happen is she gets rejected. No one ever died from that.

Feeling bold, she went straight for him, kissing the guy and showing him who's boss.

The other guy who was with Isa's boy toy was really hot; I'd never seen him here before. Well, since our friends are getting it on, we can do the same, right...?

"Looks like our friends hit it off," I said, pointing to where Isa was trying to swallow the guy with her mouth; the poor thing could barely breathe. "By the way, I'm Rafael." I smiled and extended my hand like the well-mannered boy Mrs. Gentila raised.

The jerk had the audacity to put his hands in his pockets so he wouldn't have to shake mine.

"Sorry, but I'm not gay, dude. Not gonna happen."

"Ah, I see. And might I ask what the poorly made prototype of a hot straight guy is doing at the gayest club in Sao Paulo?"

"I'm just here with my friend. I'm keeping to myself. I'm straight, like I said; I don't want anything to do with any gay guy hitting on me."

At that moment, I wanted to punch this arrogant little pretty boy in the face.

But that would be too easy.

"Look, I don't have much experience with this whole being straight thing, but let me give you a tip: Eyeing another guy while he's dancing isn't very straight. I saw you checking out my abs, my ass, and now, as we speak, you can't take your eyes off my mouth. It doesn't really add up, you know, for someone who's straight."

As I spoke, I ran my index finger from his belly button to his mouth. I saw him scoff, lick his lips, and breathe heavily. Straight my ass!

Just as the playboy was about to launch into his "straight from Taubate" speech, I heard Isa yell and slap the guy she had been kissing just moments ago. She stormed off, dragging me away from the two of them.

"What did that asshole do to you, Isadora?"

"Nothing. Just get me out of here now, Rafa, please!"

We grabbed our purses and headed for the nearest bus stop.

I hope I never run into those two idiots again.