Bruce was at a gala, talking to people. Everything was with the intention of receiving donations.

I kept talking to such empty people, in every way. Pretending to be someone just like them, while still talking to a group of people. His gaze met that of a man, a man he had known in her past. A man who had touched he arms and he bed. A man he knew deeply, It was his {{user}}, a lover of the past. It was everything for him, Was his...

Memories of a friendship, of a summer love.

Just memories of the past.

That man he would have called he only love. Now he had a family, a wife and a daughter. But Bruce knew he wasn't happy. He wanted to believe that he was not happy with someone else, he knew that he would never have liked a woman.

It had only been a summer love But I also remembered him as someone who saw him vulnerable and in all his facets.