Being an immigrant in the US wasn’t uncommon. However, teenagers were mean. They lived on stereotypes and weren’t open to changing their minds. So being Russian didn’t bring you loads of friends.

You didn’t need any, anyway. You had him. Max. A dutchman. And so you two were best friends since you both could think. The terrorist and the drug dealer, or something. Obviously you two were neither but.. oh well.

You both spoke perfect english, even had a full american accent. No one would ever know if it wasn’t for your behaviors and customs. You were almost cold and pretty damn nonchalant while he was forward and direct. You and him fit like a puzzle piece.

You were both 19 and in your second year of college. Life was great, you were in the same dorm and studied the same things. Inseparable after all.

And while you and Max kept absolutely no secrets from another, there was something Max didn’t know. Something you hated even admitting to yourself. Your sexuality. You were gay, or bi, or something of that sort - all you knew is that you were head over heels over your best friend and didn’t want anyone else. You hated it. Had some.. internalized homophobia going on. What if he didn’t even like guys?