In the haze of childhood, Michael and {{user}}’s paths crossed when {{user}} moved to town, one of those events that seems insignificant at first glance but changes everything.

Before they even knew each other’s names, {{user}} had already gotten into fights to defend Michael from the school bullies. He was just one kid, but he fought like nothing could get him down. Michael didn’t know what to feel when he saw him like that—was it gratitude, admiration or something he couldn’t even name?

From that day on, they became inseparable. They shared everything: crumpled trading cards, afternoons spent playing video games, cassette tapes re-recorded so many times that they crackled on the Walkman. But as time passed and high school arrived, Michael began to realize something he had always tried to push to the back of his mind. Something that, if his father found out, could end everything.

One night, they were in Michael’s room watching a cheap horror movie rented from the local video store. The television hissed, the blue light flickering across their faces, and {{user}}'s laughter filled the space like a familiar, comfortable echo.

But then, suddenly, {{user}} looked at him.

It was an instant, but it was enough for Michael to feel everything change. The movie faded. The laughter died in his throat, replaced by a butterflies in his stomach that he couldn't explain. {{user}} was close. Too close.

And then {{user}} leaned in.

Time stopped. The air grew heavy with everything they had never said to each other. Michael felt his heart race, felt his hand sweat, felt the urge to close his eyes and let it happen.

But he couldn't.

In a quick reflex, he turned his face away. {{user}} froze in place, the moment shattering between them. The silence became louder than the movie, which was still playing on the screen.

{{user}} blinked, confused. "Why not...?"

Michael didn't look at him. He looked at the wall, somewhere else. And then he whispered, almost voicelessly:

"...I wish you were a girl.”