"You had sex with Jessica?" I shouted as Kenji and I sat on the island in the flat. He nodded. "When?"

        Kenji drank some of his Pepsi. "We've actually had sex a couple times."

        "When did this start?"

        "Not long after Darian and I broke up."

        His tone was so nonchalant. As if he wasn't telling me that he was hooking up with his crush after breaking up with the man he'd been with for five years.

        "Why, Kenji?" I asked. "You and Darian just broke up."

        "Actually," he said, "we've been broken up for weeks now."

        He stood up to trash the empty can before returning to sit at the island with me. "Why are you so emotionless right now?"

        Lately, that was how Kenji had been. After the break up, it seemed as if all life had left him, and he was just going through the motions of the day.

        "What do you want me to do?" he asked. "Cry over Darian all day? Crying is pointless. It won't bring him back."

        For a brief second, a look of hurt took over his face, but then it was gone again—replaced by that empty look.

        "Kenji," I said, "I don't think you should be hooking up with anyone right now. You're not in a good place emotionally."

        "It makes me feel better."

        "How?"

        "Jessica is gorgeous and amazing," he said. "We have fun together, even without sex." He shrugged. "Plus, the sex is good. She's very adventurous, and surprisingly, I can unleash my kinks on her. We have very kinky sex."

        I was in disbelief. "What kinks do you have?"

        This wasn't the time to unravel Kenji's kinks, but I was curious.

        "We do a lot of bondage," he said, making my eyes expand. "I love bondage. I'm in charge most of the time. With Darian, he's usually in charge. With Jessica, it's like we're checking off sexual escapades off a bucket list. As if this will end soon, and maybe it will."

        His tone was leveled, again, no emotion.

        "Are you going to start dating her now?"

        He thought about it. "I don't know. I don't think I can really date anyone right now. Not even Jessica."

        "You're heartbroken." He shrugged. "No. This is serious. Allow yourself to grief you and Darian's relationship. Don't hold it in."

        "I don't know what else to do," he said. "If I allow myself to feel, it hurts." That look of hurt returned. "Thinking about Darian hurts." His voice wavered. "I can't bear it, so I'm not going to. Being with Jessica, it hurts less. I can focus on something else. Someone else. I don't know how me and Darian ended up like this."

        "Why where you so unhappy?"

        I didn't get it. Kenji and Darian seemed to be in a good place, and they were doing well. I didn't understand Kenji's dissatisfaction.

        "I don't know either," he said. "I thought we could be better. I thought Darian was the problem, but I guess I am. I don't know why it's so hard for me to be happy." He had a thoughtful look on his face. "Even when I'm not depressed, I struggle with that."

        "You struggle with depression?"

        He nodded. "Ever since high school. It comes and goes, but I've accepted that it'll always be a part of my life. Some people compare it to a black dog that follows you and won't leave you, even when you think you've lost it."

        "I'm sorry about that."

        "It's fine," he said. "Depression isn't my only issue. I have really bad anxiety and a lot of toxic thoughts. Thoughts that make it impossible to be happy long-term. I've been in therapy for years now, but it's like I can't shake it off. It's like always waiting for the other shoe to drop or thinking about all the negatives and disregarding the good." He sighed. "Sometimes you fuck things up for yourself and you don't realize you've done it until it happens."

        "It seems like Darian was really patient with you."

        "Sometimes, I guess you have to be with people just as fucked up as you," he said, "so you don't torment those with less mental issues."

        "That's a terrible idea," I said. "Being with other people with the same problems only makes it worse. Darian has been with you for five years, and he's been handling it. Give him more credit. He can do it. You just have to meet him halfway. You should talk to him when you're feeling a certain way. Sometimes, talking makes it better, so you don't feel so alone. So those thoughts don't grow. You've acknowledged this. That's the first step."

        "Sometimes, I feel like he deserves better," Kenji said. "I feel like I shouldn't be with anyone until I get it together."

        "No one has it together," I said. "We just pretend we do. Some are better at that than others. Being alone doesn't make anything better. When you're depressed, do you feel better when you're alone or when you're with other people?"

        "Other people, hands down," he said. "I feel like shit when I'm alone, but ironically, that's how I usually am. Alone because I isolate myself."

        "Exactly." My point was made. "You need Darian, and he can be there for you. You just have to let him and remind yourself that your thoughts aren't always right."

        It was easier said than done. I had toxic thoughts, too, and I knew I should follow my own advice, but it was difficult to think otherwise.

        "I told myself that maybe I would be happier if things were different between me and Darian," Kenji said. "If things were exciting, but that's not what I need. I just need support. Darian isn't the problem."

        I drank some water. "Now, you know."

        Kenji was his own worst enemy, just like Gyan. Unlike me and Gyan, Kenji and Darian could be together. There was no reason for them not to.

        "Fight for him," I told Kenji. He looked up at me. "Darian's always in charge. Take charge for once. Let him know you love him and make things right. He's your ichiban. It'll be stupid of you to let go of your number one."

        "What if he doesn't want me back?"

        "That's why you fight," I said. "Just because something isn't going to be easy doesn't mean it's not worth it."

        "I love Darian," Kenji said. "Sometimes, I have a hard time showing it, and I feel bad for it. I want to be better to him."

        "Find a way to be better," I said. "You're acknowledging this, which is good. Now, fix it."

        "He was right." Kenji played with his fingers. "I was the reason it took us so long to get together. The ball is always in my court."

        "And it still is now," I pointed out. "You're the only one who can bring you two back together. As of now, Darian is done taking that first step. Unlike before, I don't think he's going to come running back to you."

        He ran his hand through his hair. "I don't know how to do this."

        "Figure it out," I said. "All this energy you're using to sleep with Jessica, use it to get Darian back."

        Kenji and Gyan were spoiled, especially Gyan. He expected everything to be handed to him, and if it wasn't, he disregarded it. The only reason he was still working at Appeto was because of his father and the fact that not working there meant he had to find something else. Something that may have required work. I didn't know if this was because of Gyan's personality or if it was because of how he was raised. Maybe that was the downside of getting everything you wanted.

        You appreciated everything less.

        "Don't end up like me and Gyan."

        "So," he said, "you guys are done?"

        "Yup." I got up to refill my water. "It's over. Gyan and I are not some romance movie. Long lost loves, reunited, and they live happily ever after." I returned to my spot. "That's not going to happen. This is real life. Gyan and I come from two separate worlds. There's no place for me in his."

        "It worked before."

        "In college," I said. "We were young and foolish. The real world hadn't stomped on us yet." Kenji chuckled. "Gyan was different, too. More carefree. He had a remark for everything."

        "Yeah," Kenji agreed. "When I first met Gyan, he was different than he is now. Nothing bothered him. He was cool. Not that he isn't cool now, but it seems like something's weighing him down."

        I missed him. All I wanted to do was grab him and shield him from the rest of the world, but I knew I couldn't. I had to keep my distance, and he had to do this on his own.

        "So," I said with a smirk, "bondage, huh?" Kenji laughed. "I didn't know you were into BDSM."

        Kenji winced. "I wouldn't say I'm into BDSM. I just think it's hot to restrain people and to sometimes be tied up myself."

        I deadpanned. "Bondage is the 'b' in BDSM."

        "I don't like labels," he said.

        "I've figured," I said. "I respect that, but there's nothing wrong with labels. It gives you a sense of solidarity. Makes you feel like you belong somewhere. Technically, you could denounce your identity as an Asian because there is no biological basis for race. It's all social, so you could say you don't like labels for that, too."

        "But it's my culture," he said. "It's a part of who I am."

        "BDSM has a culture," I retorted. "So does being bi and pansexual. Those things are also a part of who you are."

        "When people look at me, they know I'm Asian," he said. "I can't escape that. Unless I tell them, no one assumes I like sucking dick and fucking girls. Or that I like tying people up." I chuckled. "It's different."

        "Some identities are less visible," I said. "I just think it's interesting to say you don't like labels when you identity as a man and as Asian. Those things are still labels."

        "I'm biologically male."

        "Being biologically male doesn't equal being a man," I said. "Gender is social. Sex is biological."

        Kenji grinned. "Touché."

        I was a gay man, but that didn't mean I was ignorant about all the other aspects of the LGBTQ+ community.

        "Maybe, instead of saying you don't like labels, say you'll rather not label yourself in terms of sexuality and sexual interests," I suggested.

        "Where's this coming from?"

        "I've been talking to Enrique a lot," I said. "He's helped me broaden my mind and see things from a completely different perspective."

        Talking to him made me question everything. It made me want to learn more about the things I was ignorant about. I was a member of the LGBTQ+ community, but I didn't realize how little I knew until I met Enrique.

        "Fine," Kenji said with his hands up. "I don't mind labels, but I'll prefer to not label myself as a member of the bisexual spectrum or as a member of the BDSM community."

        "Better."

        Kenji shook his head with a smile. "I think I prefer Gyan over Enrique."

        "Speaking of Enrique." I stood up as I glanced at my phone. "I have to meet up with him now."

        "Have you guys had sex?" My eyes widened. "Just wondering. You've been talking for a while now."

        "No, we haven't."

        Enrique and I mostly spent our time together by watching videos, going to Shirley Town Center, cooking and talking. We would have some make out sessions here and there. It was nice. I wish I could say the idea of gay men being sexually promiscuous was a stereotype, but it was reality. I appreciated blokes like Enrique who were more interested in my mind than what lied between my legs.

        "Are you official?" Kenji asked.

        I shook my head. "We're having fun."

        "Do you want to be official?"

        I didn't say anything for some time. "I have to go."

        I turned around to grab my things and Kenji didn't say more. An hour later, I sat on Enrique's bed while we watched YouTube videos. We laughed as a man danced to and sang different songs in public.

        When the video ended, Enrique grinned at me. "This is fun. I always like hanging out with you."

        "I like hanging out with you, too."

        "Let's scroll through Facebook and find something interesting."

        He did, and he stopped on an article about cultural appropriation. "I never understood that," I said. "What's the difference between cultural appropriation and appreciating a culture?"

        I knew it was hot debate, but I never knew what side to be on.

        Enrique thought about it. "Okay." He focused on me. "Cultural appropriation is a white girl wearing cornrows."

        "Why?"

        It was just a hairstyle.

        "Because," Enrique said as he turned to face me, "according to society, a white girl wearing cornrows is chic. It's cool. A black girl wearing cornrows is ghetto. It's unprofessional. A lot of black hairstyles are seen as unprofessional. That's the difference."

        "Ooooh," I said as it hit me.

        "Cultural appropriation is a person taking an aspect of a different culture, using it to their convenience and can easily discard it without any consequences. Consequences that members of the original group have to face for using that same culture."

        "That makes sense."

        Enrique scrolled through the comments. "Oh, I hate when people do this."

        "Do what?"

        "I hate it when there's a hot debate about something and a member of the marginalized group says, 'I'm Latino, but this doesn't bother me.' Good for you, bitch." I busted into laughter. "It may not bother you, but it affects other people. You're not the voice of the Latino community." I laughed even harder. "Since when do we have a spokesperson, anyway?"

        I was dying. "Oh my gosh, Enrique."

        "I hate it when people do that," he said. "A lot of times, it's the ignorant ones who do it, too. You can be a part of the community and still be ignorant."

        "I hate the whole spokesperson thing, too," I said. "I was watching this one video about trans issues. They brought in a cis lesbian to interview her."

        "What?" Enrique's face was priceless.

        "Yes, because lesbians are also a part of the LGBTQ community, so they must be experts on trans issues."

        "That is wild." He laughed. "And kind of sad. That's like bringing in an Asian to discuss issues in the black community just because they're both people of color."

        "I know right."

        We laughed together. I could only have these discussions with Enrique. He was so wise and aware.

        Our eyes met. "I really like you, Gabriel." Enrique reached for my hand, and our fingers interlocked. "We've been talking and hanging out for some time." His gaze dropped for a second before returning to mine. "Let's make it official."

        The blood drained from my face. No. I was surprised by my own thoughts.

        "Oh, yeah?"

        He nodded. "I like you. I hope you like me." I chuckled nervously. "There's nothing holding us back. What do you say? Will you be my boyfriend?"

No. No no no no no no. This couldn't be happening. My heart rate increased as I removed my hand from his grasp.

        Enrique was a wonderful bloke. He was handsome, sweet, intelligent and available. He wasn't Gyan. Maybe that was the problem. I continued to stare into his expectant eyes. Enrique wasn't Gyan. He was perfect, but he wasn't Gyan. I couldn't do this.

        "I can't." Enrique's expression dropped. "I can't be your boyfriend."

        Us hanging out was fun, and I had a blast. Even the kissing was nice, but I couldn't be his boyfriend. I couldn't be anyone's boyfriend.

        None of them were Gyan.

        "This isn't fair to you." I hopped off the bed.

        "Gabriel." Enrique got off the bed, too, as I put on my shoes and coat. "What's wrong?"

        "This isn't right," I said. "You deserve so much more."

        I couldn't give Enrique what he deserved. I would always think about Gyan. I would want Gyan, and I wouldn't give all of myself to Enrique. I complained about Gyan not giving all of himself to me, so I couldn't do the same thing to Enrique. I wasn't going to treat Enrique like how Kenji was treating Jessica. He wasn't disposable.

        I couldn't be with anyone until I had moved on from Gyan—for their sake.

        This wasn't the right time. "You're perfect, Enrique," I said.

        "No, I'm not," he said. "Let me show you I'm not by getting to know me better."

        "We would have been so great together." We stood in front of each other. "But this is the wrong time."

        If only he entered my life later. A year or two from now. I would have moved on from Gyan by then.

        "Why?" he asked.

        "It's hard to explain."

        He watched me with squinted eyes. "Is it because of Gyan?"

        "Enrique."

        He ran a hand down his face. "It's because of Gyan."

        "I'm sorry." I caressed his cheek. "I'm sorry I wasted your time."

        He removed my hand. "So, you're okay hanging out with me, kissing me, but you don't want to date me?" I looked away in shame. "You want a friend right now."

        I guess I did. I wanted companionship. Enrique was that, but then he asked me to be his boyfriend. I was playing along before, but I couldn't do it anymore. This was getting too serious.

        "I can't just be your friend, Gabriel."

        Like I couldn't be Gyan's.

        That meant one thing. Enrique and I were done. "I'm sorry," I repeated before turning around to walk out.

        I felt like a user, a liar, and a heart breaker. Enrique was nothing but good to me, and I broke his heart. Darian was right. Gyan and I should have worked everything out before we brought any third or fourth parties into the mix. Because of my selfishness, Enrique was now a casualty.

        I wanted to go to Gyan. Ask him how his day was and maybe even go swimming or play some chess with him. I wanted him to hold me, but we were done. Now, not only had I lost him, but I'd also lost Enrique. I was waiting to move on from him, but I didn't know if anyone else could ever be my number one. Or maybe they would always be second best to Gyan. I was sad by what had happened with Enrique.

        But I was devastated that Gyan and I weren't some romance movie.