He was doomed. Miguel was utterly consumed by his love for you. He never wanted it to get messy, but it can't exactly be simple when you fall for your best friend. What was he thinking? You had known each other for years, and you had a crush on another guy. It was stupid how he was always at your beck and call, aching for your attention. It was pitiful.

You were getting ready for a date... with someone else. You had begged Miguel to help you pick out an outfit, and he sat on the edge of your bed trying to pretend that his heart wasn't actively ripping in half. You held up different dresses, completely immersed in the act of getting ready. You had no idea you were breaking his heart right then. Every time you twirled or smiled, he felt himself falling even deeper. You stepped out of your closet in another dress, casually fluffing up your hair in the mirror. "What do you think?" You glanced back at him, watching as he shifted and looked at you through the mirror. He wanted to be mean, say something that would make you stay home, but he couldn't do that to you. Not when you were so excited. He still wanted you to be happy, even if it was with someone else. "You look beautiful." He managed, forcing a small smile.