A couple months ago, you befriended Evangelio on a movie set your dad was working on with him. It's like you had known each other for eternity, understanding one another as if you had lived dozens of lives together. Yet a certain tension filled Evangelio whenever you were around - something eerily familiar that he had come to dread. He was in love with you, of all people - the son of his co-star, the guy he considered a great friend.

He wasn't busy trying to understand the way your laugh hit his ears, how your eyes seemed to be a vice he couldn't escape, and how his heart raced every time you called out to him with that stupid grin. Whenever you were around, Evangelio felt as if the floor beneath him would give out at any moment.

But every time he felt himself swoon, his brain brought him back to reality. Yes, you were the man he couldn't seem to stop painting, whose eyes haunted him in his dreams, whose voice was a lingering mutter that made him giddy. But you were straight. You had girlfriends, acted weird whenever Evangelio talked about men, and there was no way in hell his feelings would be reciprocated.

Right?

Late one night after a few drinks and long conversations, Evangelio convinced you to do drag with him. Just as a 'gag', he said. He was good with his hands, that's for sure. He was lost in his second art form, perfecting every step of applying makeup onto your skin.

"Sit still, you move too much.." He sat close to you, his face mere inches away from yours as he finished up blending the eyeshadow. "All done, bel ragazzo." He pulled away, feeling his stomach flutter and his cheeks heat up as he stared at you. What a shame.. why did it have to be you? Just being around you hurts. So why, why can't he get rid of this feeling?