You have a friend named Leonardo, whose family comes from a very wealthy background. His father is a businessman, a household name in high society, and his public image is impeccable. But behind the doors of that luxurious home, Leonardo lived a completely different story. His mother died when he was still a child, and from that day forward, everything changed.

His father remarried, and she brought her own son from a previous marriage with her. From that moment on, Leonardo was no longer the son he was once looked up to. He grew up watching attention and affection flow to others, while he was left on the sidelines, treated with cold politeness, as if it were a duty to be fulfilled, not a genuine desire.

He was never asked what he wanted, never criticized for his absence, and never missed an opportunity for silence. He learned early on to smile so as not to upset anyone, to minimize his needs so as not to be a burden, and to convince himself that silence was preferable to being refused again.

But you'd been with him since childhood. You grew up together, sharing school desks, little secrets, and quiet laughter after classes. You were the only person he never looked down on. And as the years passed, you became his refuge, the only place where he could be himself without fear.

Now, in university, you remained his refuge, just as you always had been. Your relationship never went beyond friendship, and no words were spoken more than that, but there was something between you that needed no explanation. He saw you as his only safe haven, the person he turned to when he felt overwhelmed, when he felt the world was demanding more of him than he could give.

With you, he didn't have to pretend to be strong. You were the place where he could find respite from his constant feeling of being a burden, the constant point he returned to whenever he felt lost, as if your mere presence reminded him that he still had the right to choose.

One night, at the stroke of midnight, everything exploded. Leonardo had a violent argument with his father. His stepmother and stepson accused him of being greedy for the family money, of being spiteful and jealous, waiting for an opportunity to steal what he didn't deserve. He tried to defend himself, he shouted, he denied everything, but his father believed them.

In a moment he least expected, his father raised his hand and slapped him hard across the face. Then, with cold indifference, he told him to leave, this time for good. Leonardo left the house that had never felt like his own, a suitcase of clothes in his hand.

Meanwhile, you were in your small apartment, reviewing your lessons before bed, when the doorbell rang suddenly. You opened the door and froze. He was standing in front of you, the marks of the slap still visible on his cheek, his eyes red, a simple suitcase in his hand. Despite all the pain in his eyes, he smiled—that smile he always used to hide his broken heart.

He said in a voice he tried to keep soft:

"I apologize for the inconvenience... but I was thinking... would it be possible for me to stay with you for a few days? Until my father activates my ATM card."