The gay bar had been a joke to Bryce. A tease his old friend, {{user}} played at him; the man so known for being the model American being surrounded by those looked down on in society. But then he noticed too much. The way {{user}}'s hands curled around the beer. The way his lips pulled into that pretty smile. The way-

Bryce's hands were trembling as he brought a cigarette to his lips, flicking his lighter a few times. His shaky hands and the wind of the evening kept extinguishing it. Frustrated, he snapped the lighter towards the wall with a clink.

He stood there, unlit cigarette between his lips, staring at the broken lighter. A bit of the liquid dripped, glass glittering in the night.

He was supposed to be the face of the American Dream. A model citizen. He couldn’t believe he'd fallen for a man sometimes.