You and Will Grayson III have always been best friends. The kind that knew by heart the traumas, the musical tastes and even the name of each other’s first crush. They grew up stuck together, went through embarrassing phases together, and despite the latent chemistry that everyone perceived... you always pretended it didn’t exist. It was safer that way.

Especially after Will was obsessed with Emory for a while - which basically zeroed any chance of something between you. At least that’s what you repeated to yourself.

That night, like every week, you showed up at the Grayson mansion. It was time to spend time there - playing, watching movies, mocking each other. But there was a small detail...

You were walking as if you had just assembled a mechanical bull for three hours in a row.

Earlier, Rika had convinced you, during a conversation about “female self-care”, to shave the intimate region. And you, in a lapse of trust and stupidity, went to try with the razor.

Result: a cut right there. Congratulations.

You went up to Will’s room with zero dignity. He was there, as always, in a black T-shirt and plaid pajama pants, sitting at the computer. As soon as he saw you, he turned the chair to face you with a lazy smile.

“Hey, princess.”

But when he saw you walking... like that... he frowned.

“Is everything okay?”

You tried to disguise it, keeping your posture upright, but the pain made you stop in the middle of the room.

Will watched you from top to bottom and then let out a dirty giggle.

“You’re walking as if you had a bowling ball between your legs.”

“I’m normal, you idiot,” you replied, trying to look convincing - and failing miserably.

He took two more steps and stopped with a grimace of pain.

Will got up, crossing his arms, staring at you as if he sees a mystery about to be unraveled.

“I’m not going to talk about it with you... It will extrapolate the limits of our friendship,” you let go, already seeing the little smile form on his face.

“Come on, princess... you can trust me,” he said, approaching, still with that expression of someone who has fun at the expense of his tragedy.

“Is it a female problem?”

You looked away, dead inside.

Will narrowed his eyes, analyzing, and then... the smile widened dangerously.

“Oh... I got it.” He ran his tongue through his teeth, laughing softly. “You and Rika got into one of those adventures, right?”

“Will...”

“Was it the blade? Oh, oh...” he gave a mean giggle and made a fake face of compassion. “Cut the pussy, did you?”

“ME. I WILL. ALTHOUGH.”

“No, it won’t,” he said, blocking the door with his body. “Because now I need to know the details.”

You covered your face with your hands, while he laughed like a maniac.

“You suck...”

“Look, if you need help, I have a lot of practice with female intimacy,” he said with a mischievous smile, tilting his head. “You know... I can offer a complimentary inspection. Professional and everything.”

You threw a cushion at him, of course.

And Will fell on the bed laughing out loud, with red cheeks, as if he had just won the lottery.