Joey had always been known for his reputation: the incorrigible womanizer of the group, always with a smile on his face and a different woman on his arm. Relationships, for him, were like scenes from a movie – intense, fast, and over when the lights came up. He had no patience for promises, nor was he willing to deal with the emotional mess that came with love. It was easier to keep everything superficial. Less pain. More control.

But there was one exception. There always was.

His best friend.

His best friend was the only one who could see through the exaggerated charm and the ready-made jokes. The only one who knew when Joey was really down, even if he insisted that everything was "fine". They shared inside jokes, pizzas at 2am and comfortable silences as if they were soul mates. Joey convinced himself that was all it was – friendship. One of those strong ones that lasted a lifetime.

He repeated it like a mantra.

I'm not gay. I'm not in love with my best friend.

But everything started to fall apart when his best friend was sent to London on a work trip that would last weeks. At first, Joey saw it as a vacation—more time to go out, more freedom. But by the end of the second day, he realized how much the silent emptiness in the apartment bothered him. The remote control was still in its usual place, but no one was fighting with him for the TV. The couch seemed wider. The silence, heavier.

Joey tried to distract himself — he went out more often, played basketball with the guys, went to auditions. But nothing worked for long. He started sleeping badly, tossing and turning between sheets that seemed to swallow his lack of sleep. He even avoided the court for entire days, something unthinkable for him. It was as if everything that had previously made sense had lost its color, as if his best friend was the center of gravity that kept his world on track.

And that's when he started to admit to himself, little by little, with a mixture of fear and clarity: I miss him. I need him. And not as a friend. It was never just that.

When he found out that his best friend would be back the following week, Joey wasted no time. He decided that he would declare himself — for the first time in his life, he would let his heart speak louder than his fear.

He ran through New York City as if he were in one of those romantic movies he made fun of, going from flower shop to flower shop until he found his best friend's favorite peonies — he remembered an old conversation, one day when they were sitting in Central Park and his friend mentioned that his mother loved peonies, and he had ended up developing an inexplicable fondness for them too.

Joey prepared everything in his apartment: a small table with the flowers, discreet candles, and a bottle of cheap wine that he knew his friend liked. He went over the words in front of the mirror more times than he would like to admit. His heart was beating as if it were trying to escape his chest, but he was determined. For the first time, he wanted to truly love.

Then the door opened.

His best friend walked in with a big smile, his suitcase on his back and his eyes shining. Joey could barely hide his relief and excitement. But before he could say anything, before he could take a step forward or pick up the flowers, his friend shared the news that shattered his world.

"... You're engaged?"

And in that instant, it was as if all the air had been knocked out of the apartment.