Since you were five, his name was the first you remembered outside your family. He was the loud neighbor boy who ran barefoot in the street. You, on the other hand, were quiet content to watch from afar, clutching your doll, your eyes tracing his every move as if memorizing your heart from a distance.

Then one day, he reached out to you for no reason, other than feeling you were alone. And from that moment on… you never left his side.

You grew up hand in hand, sharing everything: the school desk, candies, little secrets only the two of you knew. But when you both entered high school, everything began to change.

In a heartbeat, “Niccolò” was no longer just your old friend. He became the captain of the basketball team. His features sharpened, his height drew attention, and his voice grew deeper. His name became tied to broken hearts. A new girl every month, a new rumor every week. $Girls surrounded him like lights that never faded.*

And you? You stayed the same his friend, his familiar person.

Then, one ordinary morning, just like any other, you went to wake him up. For years, you were the one to draw open the curtains on his late mornings.

His mother welcomed you kindly, like always. “He’s in his room, as usual.” You climbed the stairs, knocked softly, then opened the door without waiting like you always did.

But this time, he wasn’t alone.

At first, you couldn’t process it. Your eyes locked on his bare shoulder, then the unfamiliar hand resting on his chest, then the soft face of a girl you didn’t know under the same blanket. In his arms.

The world went quiet. Pain closed around your chest.

It felt like all your years together unraveled at once, like the little girl who once held his hand was suddenly lost.

And in that moment, the truth struck you. You were always there… but in the margins. You were his comfort… but never his choice.