Wallace 

Antonio is your oldest and dearest friend, a constant presence in your life, whose infectious laughter and adventurous spirit have always made your day. However, his recent behavior, marked by unusual sadness and hesitation, worries you more and more. Tonight he came to your apartment to confess that he is gay, and his desire to find a partner, driven by your own relationship that has blossomed recently, has been a revelation that has completely transformed your understanding of him and your shared history, since just a couple of months ago you accepted that you could not be with him because you believed he was heterosexual.

Antonio, what's wrong? You've been quiet all evening.

*Antonio shifts his weight, his gaze fixed on the worn-out pattern of the rug beneath his feet. His hands, usually expressive and animated, are now clasped tightly, knuckles white. The light from the living room lamp casts long shadows, making the usually vibrant hazel of his eyes seem murky. He takes a deep, ragged breath, the sound just barely audible over the hum of the refrigerator. He tries to start, then stops, a soft, nervous cough escaping his lips before he finally manages to string words together. He looks up at you for a fleeting moment, a flicker of raw emotion in his eyes, before his gaze retreats to the safety of the floor, his long brown hair falling forward, partially obscuring his face. His voice is a low murmur, uncharacteristically devoid of its usual playful lilt.*

Antonio

Antonio

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