Enrique and I sat in a cupcake shop. He had triple chocolate with some red velvet thrown in. I got simple vanilla.

        He chuckled as I ate it. "Out of all the cupcakes here, you choose vanilla?"

        I shrugged. "I'm a simple bloke."

        "More like basic," Enrique said with a grin.

        "That, too."

        I couldn't deny it. I wasn't an exciting bloke who partied and lived on the edge. Convention and simplicity was all I needed. If that meant getting the original of everything, so be it.

        He was almost done with his while I had half of mine left. "Love cupcakes?"

        "No," Enrique said. "You just eat slow."

        "Ha ha." I shook my head as I took another bite.

        Lately, Enrique and I had been spending a lot of time together. He teased me a lot, and it wasn't annoying but endearing. I was grateful for his companionship because it distracted me from Gyan.

        The nerve of him. Coming to my motel room to remind me that he wasn't going to fight for me. And I was supposed to run into his arms and return to the flat? The audacity of that man.

        "Are you okay?" Enrique asked. "You seem sad."

        I smiled. "I'm fine."

        Enrique sent me a look. "You can't lie to me. I see through you."

        "Are you good at reading people?"

        He nodded. "Especially you."

        I placed my cupcake down and focused on him. "What do you read about me?"

        Enrique looked off to the side in thought. "You're driven and sensitive. You put up a façade at work that's nothing like what you are in your regular life. Sometimes, you take life a little too seriously and stick to convention. You don't take a lot of risks because you like to be comfortable. You expect the same from others. You project this image that you're assured of yourself and have everything together." He met my gaze. "But deep down, you probably feel like everything is falling apart."

Wow.

        "How did you get all of that?"

        I wasn't that easy to read. I made sure of it. Never let them see you crack because then they had power over you. I'd always told myself that. That was why I was the way I was at work.

        Enrique smiled. "I listen to you, and I can infer the rest. I'm guessing I did well."

        It was scary how well he did. "You did."

        Enrique stared at me for a while. "Sometimes, it's okay to not be okay. You don't have to keep it all in. You can show vulnerability."

        I shook my head. "I can't. Vulnerability leads to being taken advantage of. That also leads to people not seeing my worth, something I have to work hard for."

        "Your worth shouldn't be based off of external factors," Enrique said. "It should be your foundation. Something that can't be dismantled because once you lose that worth, it all falls to pieces."

        He was incredible. The things he said always made me feel understood and heard.

        I ate the last of my cupcake. "You should be a motivational speaker."

        "No, thanks," he said. "That's too much pressure. I have stage fright, and people intimidate me."

        "What?" I was shocked. "You seem like an extrovert."

        "Oh, no," he said. "I'm an introvert. People scare the shit out of me. I just pretend to be an extrovert when I have to. I pretend to know what I'm doing at work even if I don't. We all have our masks we have to put on from time to time."

        Gyan had plenty. The heir to Appeto. Anushka's fiancé. The straight son with the Gupta name. It was all fake. Was the Gyan from college real? Was the person he showed me authentic? Maybe, I didn't know the real Gyan, after all.

        "Sometimes, it's a matter of survival," I said. "This is kind of messed up, but do you know why my mother named me Gabriel?"

        "It's a beautiful name affiliated with an angel?" Enrique guessed.

        "Partially," I responded. "She also named me Gabriel because a non-Hispanic white person could be named Gabriel. Names like Juan, Alejandro, Jesus, Javier etc. Not so much. She didn't want me to be judged based off my name. Same goes for Angelica."

        Enrique released a deep breath. "I'm not surprised. I wish she didn't have to do that, but I understand why she did it." He gave me a once-over. "I have to admit Gabriel, if you didn't tell anyone, people wouldn't think you're Hispanic."

        "Why's that?"

        I knew why. I just wanted to hear him say it.

        "You look white," he said, "and your name doesn't sound Hispanic. Gabriel. Anyone could be named Gabriel. Acosta isn't as well-known of a Hispanic last name like Rodriguez or Garcia. You can pass."

        "I don't want to pass," I said. "People think I'm lucky because I do, but it also erases my identity. I'm a proud Latino and a person of color, and it hurts me that a lot of people don't see that. It also sucks when I go to a Latin event, and I feel like I don't belong because I pass. It should be my space, too, but I'm left in this weird place where I don't feel like I belong in my community, and I definitely don't belong in the community I pass as. So, yeah. Passing isn't always great."

        "I never saw it like that," Enrique said. "I never thought about the effect of erasure. Thank you for reminding me."

        That was what I loved most about my time with Enrique. We could have discussions like this. We could discuss homophobia in the Latin community. We could discuss shared issues being a Latino. We could poke fun at each other's Spanish. I still thought Colombian Spanish was the best, but he swore that Mexican Spanish was. This was one of the many perks of being with someone of your community. There was no education needed because they already understood.

        I could never have this with Gyan, but that didn't make me want him any less.

        "Well, I could never pass," Enrique said. "Not only because of the way I look but my name. Enrique Morales. That's pretty Hispanic."

        "And you have to be proud of that."

        "I am," he said. "I wouldn't want to be any other way."

        "Do you have sisters?" I asked. "Brothers? I have a younger sister called Angelica."

        "I have a younger brother and a younger sister."

        "You're the oldest?"

        He nodded. "Rewarding, but also hard as hell. When you're the oldest, you get the most discipline. Then the more kids your parents have, the more lenient they become."

        "Yes," I said in agreement. "The things Angelica got away with, I could never."

        "Right," Enrique said. "All I have to say is la chancla." I busted into laughter. "It's every Mexican kid's worst nightmare. Growing up, I stayed getting la chancla. Now, with my brother Miguel and my sister Lucia, la chancla stays on my mother's feet."

        I could barely contain my laughter. "My mother was more lenient with Angelica, but she also got in more trouble than me." Ma didn't beat me much. Angelica was another story. That girl never learned. "I can only imagine what would have happened if she was the eldest."

        Enrique released a sharp breath. "Hispanic mothers. I see these kids talking to their parents like they're talking to their friends."

        "I know right."

        "That shit will never fly with mine," he said. "I'm a grown man, but I wouldn't put it past my mother to use la chancla on me."

        We laughed. "It will fly across the room to find you."

        "Yes," Enrique said. "I could never do what these kids do."

        I agreed. It didn't matter how pissed I was at Ma or how unfair I thought she was being, I wouldn't dare talk to her with disrespect. Not only out of respect, but also for my own well-being.

        "Wanna head out?" I asked. "We can walk around."

        We were at Shirley Town Center. This park had everything, and there was so much to do.

        "Yeah." Enrique got up, and so did I. "Let's head out."

        We grabbed our things and walked out. We strolled along the strip, taking in the various restaurants and shops. When Enrique's hand crept towards mine, I met him halfway, and our hands locked. We smiled at each other. I was hesitant to be with Enrique, but it was time I gave him a chance. Gyan was out of the picture, and Enrique could be great for me.

        "This is nice," Enrique said.

        "Yeah, it's—" My eyes widened when they landed on a familiar face approaching us.

        Gyan.

        When his eyes met mine, he slowed down, and so did I. We maintained eye contact while we came to a stop in front of each other.

        "Gabriel," Gyan said, a slight smile forming as he said my name in relief. Then his eyes moved down to my and Enrique's interlocked hands, and his smile disappeared.

        "Gyan," I said as his eyes returned to mine. Then I shifted my focus to Enrique. "Enrique, this is Gyan. Gyan, this is Enrique."

        Enrique reached a hand out. "Nice to meet you." Gyan hesitated, but he shook Enrique's hand.

        Gyan sent a stiff smile. "Back atcha."

        "Enrique," I said. "Gyan is my..." Gyan and I locked eyes. "H-he's my old roommate." I broke his stare, but I could feel his on me. "We lived together, but I recently moved out."

        "Oh, okay," Enrique said, his face and hands relaxed.

        Gyan chuckled. "Roommates." I sent him a look, and he stared me right in the eye. "Yeah. That's what we are."

        "Where're you headed?" Enrique asked, shifting Gyan's attention to him.

        "Gonna grab something to eat," Gyan said. "Then I'll probably head back to the apartment."

        His flat. Emphasis on "his."

        "Nice," Enrique said. "If you want dessert, I recommend the cupcake place." He smiled down at me. "Gabriel and I were just there."

        Gyan's jaw tensed up. "I bet you were."

        "We should go." I couldn't look at him anymore. "I'll see you later, Gyan."

        "Or not." Gyan pushed between us, making our hands part.

        "Gyan." When I turned around, he was already walking away.

        A part of me wanted to run after him, but I knew I couldn't. I couldn't continue doing this to myself. I deserved someone I could have. Enrique was that person.

        "Well," Enrique said with his arms crossed. "That wasn't cordial." I reached for his hand again, and we walked as normal. Enrique glanced my way. "Now, why don't you tell me your real relationship to him."

        "He was my old roommate." I wasn't lying.

        "Is that it?" Enrique asked, and I peered up at him. "You can be honest with me, Gabriel."

        I looked forward. "It's too soon to talk about exes."

        Enrique's eyes widened. "So, he's an ex. Figured." I stayed silent. "So, what happened?"

        "Do you really want to know?"

        "I really do," he said. "Story time."

        I didn't want to, but I told him everything. Gyan and I in college. Me leaving for Australia. My return and homelessness. Us living together. The only thing I left out was our intimate moments once we became roommates. I didn't want Enrique thinking he was a rebound or that Gyan was competition.

        I would say Gyan and I were done, but we were never a thing to begin with.

        "Wow," Enrique said. "What a story. This could be a movie."

        I smacked his arm when he chuckled. "It's not funny. Gyan and I were doomed from the beginning." Enrique and I moved to walk along a trail, taking in the trees and green grass. "Don't feel threatened by him, okay? We're over."

        Even saying it made my throat tighten.

        Enrique smiled. "I'm not threatened. If you and him are meant to be together, you wouldn't be with me. If me and you are meant to be together, you wouldn't be with him. So, at the end of the day, you choose the outcome, so there's no point in me freaking out about something out of my control."

        I stopped, and we took each other in. "You're amazing."

        "I try," he joked, and I playfully rolled my eyes.

        Enrique was great, but a part of me felt like this wasn't real. He was available. He was relatable. Being with him was simple and conventional. He was everything Gyan wasn't. Even though I knew this, I couldn't stop thinking about Gyan. That look on his face when he saw me and Enrique together. Him storming off. I shouldn't have, but I cared. I would always care about Gyan Gupta.

        "Let's head out." Enrique grabbed my arm and led me away.

        When we entered the car, we buckled ourselves in. "Can you drop me off to one of my friend's place?"

        Kenji called me to come over today.

        "Yeah, sure." Enrique brought the car to life. "Just put the address in the GPS."

        That was exactly what I did, and we were off. Enrique played some Mexican music, but he also mixed it up with American music. I had to admit. Enrique was making me hate music less and less. I didn't enjoy it, but I wasn't displeased by it either. I found his beef jerky stash, and I took some. Then he turned off the AC and let the windows down.

        The wind tousled my hair, and I could barely keep my eyes open. "Enrique, can we put the windows up?"

        He smirked. "Come on, Gabriel. Live a little. Everyone needs to have the wind blowing through their hair at some point."

        It was annoying having my hair in my face, but it was refreshing. I didn't complain anymore, and we spent the rest of the ride like this. When we stopped, a wave of heat hit me.

        "The worst part about riding with the windows down." He turned the car off. "Stopping."

        We turned our bodies to face each other. "I had fun. As always."

        He smiled. "I'm glad."

        We were silent, and he licked his lips. We'd hung out a couple times, but not once did we kiss. It was time to change that.

        I placed my hand to his neck and jaw, and I closed the distance between us. Enrique reciprocated instantly, with his hand in my hair as his lips moved with mine. He tasted like chocolate. It was sweet, but his lips made it better. I pulled him closer, and he held onto me. We would come up for air for a second before finding each other's lips once more. The guilt was still there, and I didn't know how to get rid of it.

        There was nothing wrong with spending time with Enrique. There was nothing wrong with me kissing Enrique. There was nothing wrong with me being with someone who wasn't Gyan.

        I groaned against Enrique's lips, and his tongue met mine. His lips were soft and warm, but his tongue was softer and warmer. Its slickness slid against mine as our lips moved in sync. We kissed for at least ten minutes, probably longer. We only pulled away when I remembered that Kenji was waiting for me.

        Our breathing was heavier when we parted, and we smiled at each other. "I'll be seeing you later?" he asked.

        I nodded. "I'm looking forward to it."

        I stepped out of the car, and I waved before closing the door shut. He returned my wave as I walked around the car to the stairs. His Chevrolet stayed parked until I reached the top of the stairs and began to walk forward.

        When I reached Kenji's door, I knocked once, and he opened it. He opened the door wider. "Gabriel. Come in."

        I stepped inside and removed my shoes at the foyer. Once they were off, I walked to the couch while Kenji made it to the kitchen. "Water?" he asked.

        I sat down. "Yes, please."

        When he returned with a Pepsi for himself and water for me, we looked at each other. "What's going on?" I asked. "Why am I here?"

        "I know you're living in a motel," he said. "That's expensive." I nodded. "Why don't you stay with me and Darian for a little bit?" I smiled. "Until you get back on your feet."

        "Is Darian okay with that?"

        "He will be," Kenji said.

        My face dropped. "You haven't told him?"

        Kenji waved me off. "He'll be fine. Darian likes to give me what I want."

        I sipped my water. "And you're still not happy."

        "Wow," Kenji said. "You wanna play like that. I'm here offering you a place to stay, and you're throwing shade?"

        I chuckled. "Can I use the bathroom?"

        "Let me show you."

        He led me to the hall and directed me to the bathroom. Not long after I stepped in, before I could even unzip my trousers, the front door opened.

        "Darian," Kenji said. "Hey."

        "Whose water is that?" Darian asked.

        "Gabriel," Kenji said. "I offered for him to stay with us."

        "You what?!"

Shit.

        Using the bathroom was long forgotten as I focused on the two blokes.

        "It's not that big of a deal," Kenji said. "He needs a place. He'll stay with us until he finds a place of his own."

        "No," Darian said, seeming to move around. "He needs to stay in that motel, be knocked to his senses once money starts to run out, and he needs to go back to Gyan. Us taking him in will only make him stay away from Gyan longer."

        "What's wrong with that?"

        "They belong together," Darian said. "We need to help them get together, not encourage their separation. Gabriel can't stay here. He needs to go back to Gyan."

        Kenji shushed him. "He's here."

        "I don't give a damn," Darian said. "You know what, let me call Gyan right now and tell him to step up his game."

        It was silent for a bit, so I crept out of the bathroom and stayed hidden in the hall.

        "Why do you make everything so complicated?" Kenji asked.

        "Me?" Darian said. "That's you. In our whole relationship, Kenji, you're the complicated one. You're the reason it took us so long to get together. You're the one who finds every little reason to be unhappy."

        Kenji scoffed. "I'm sorry that I get depressed every now and then."

        "This isn't about your depression," Darian said. "It's about you. It's so hard to please you, Kenji." Darian released a shaky breath. "I try. Damn, do I try, but it's never good enough. I'm not affectionate enough. I'm too affectionate. I talk too dirty. I don't talk dirty enough. I don't express my love. I express my love too much. What am I supposed to do?"

        I was pressed to the wall now—listening. This was an invasion of privacy, but I couldn't turn away.

        "You're making yourself into the victim."

        "No," Darian said. "You do that because you're never wrong. I'm always the one fucking everything up. Lately, everything I do is wrong."

        "You don't get it."

        "Help me get it."

        "I'm fucking tired of this bullshit!" Kenji yelled. "I can't do this anymore! It's the same shit every day. It's boring. It's predictable. There's no excitement. What made us us is gone." Kenji's breathing was ragged. "I can't take this."

        "What do you mean by that?" Darian asked. "I don't know what to do, Kenji. I don't know what you want me to do."

        "Nothing," Kenji said, in a cold voice. "There's nothing you can do because this isn't working anymore. I tried. I tried telling myself that it'll pass and it'll get better, but it's not."

        "I'm trying, too," Darian said.

        "And it's not working!" Kenji shouted. "I can't cling onto this any longer."

No.

        "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

        "You need to pack your things and spend the night at Gavin and Aaron's," Kenji said. "I need time to think. I—"

        "Fuck that," Darian said. "Say it like it is. We're done, Kenji. That's what you want, right? You wanna break up. You want to throw away five years but fuck that shit. I'm going to say it. We're breaking up. This whole relationship, the ball's always been in your court. I'm always the one chasing after you and trying to make you happy. Well, not anymore. We're done."

        Footsteps approached me, and I quietly ran into the bathroom.

        "Darian!" Footsteps passed the bathroom into a bedroom. "So, that's it?" Kenji asked.

        Things shuffled, probably Darian packing his stuff. "I'm exhausted. I'm exhausted with this relationship. I'm exhausted with you."

        "Darian, stop."

        "For the first time," Darian said, "I'm done trying to pursue you, keep you and make you happy. That's not my job. I'm not going to waste any more years doing this."

        More footsteps and shuffling. "Baka!" Kenji shouted. "Fuck you. Leave. Leave and be a fucking coward."

        Footsteps stopped. "I will," Darian said. "I'm done dealing with a little bitch."

        Not long later, the front door slammed shut, and it was silent.

        I walked out of the bathroom, taking cautious steps. Before I could leave the hallway, Kenji marched passed me and into a bedroom. "Kenji." I followed him, and he grabbed a suitcase and started shoving clothes into it. "Kenji, what are you doing?"

        "I'm packing the rest of Darian's things." He was walking in and out of the closet. "I want it out. I want all of it out." His hands were shaking as he threw the clothes into the suitcase. "I never want to see this shit again. It can leave with him." His eyes were watering. "Baka."

        How did things escalate to this?

        One second, they were talking about me, and the next, they were breaking up?

        This was my fault. "I'm so sorry, Kenji," I said as I approached him. "You were trying to help me and—"

        "Trust me," he said with his breathing ragged. "This was going to happen sooner or later." He looked around. "Where are the rest of his wife beaters?" He frantically searched for it. "Fuck! Where are they?"

        "Kenji..."

        He was crying. "Where are his wife beaters?" He pressed his back against the wall and slid down it. "Baka." His crying intensified. "Five fucking years."

        I knelt beside him and rubbed his knee. "It'll be okay."

        Kenji shook his head. "We're not okay." More tears fell. "There goes my ichiban."

        I allowed him to cry, my heart breaking with his. All I could do was be there and realize that Gyan and I weren't the only ones struggling with our relationship. Like Kenji and Darian, we needed a change.

        That change could or could not include us being together. If Kenji and Darian could fall apart, how much more us?

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* What do you guys think about this chapter? Gyan and Gabriel? Kenji and Darian? Those of you who read Loving a Goon, how do you feel?