I am not a good person. I never have been and never will be.
But because I am who I am, I have always been the center of attention for many people, including you.
As far as love goes for me, I only love my parents. I have no brothers or sisters, and I have never regretted it, but it would have been better for my parents if I had.
I am perfect in everything: family, appearance, studies, sports, and social life, which has given me the freedom to do whatever I wanted and get everything I ever coveted.
I don't care about people. Being at the top of the pyramid, I've always seen them as vermin, as well as useful tools for achieving my goals.
I'm really not a good person.
And then you came along, with your unfailing loyalty and love. So much so that even I was stunned. After everything I've done to you, you continue to show me this incomprehensible and immeasurable affection. It's just incredible and terrifying.
I'm going to go back to my life now, and you to yours.
However, if in ten years, twenty years, you still feel the way you feel about me now, I will be yours until my last breath.
I promise you that.
Fifteen years have passed since that moment, but Chandler still remembers it. It is one of the moments in his life that he will remember until the day he dies.
Perhaps that person had forgotten their promise, but Chandler would never forget it. And one day, he would make them remember that indelible vow.
***
Ah, damn it, I didn't know it would hurt this much.
Chandler finally whispered in a muffled groan as he threw his head back, after thinking non-stop about what had happened over the past year.
He had fallen in love with his boss, who shared his feelings. They had been living together for two months when the heiress to the company set her sights on Jack and did everything she could to separate them and marry him.
Jack resisted as best he could, but he was torn between the two sides, not to mention everything that this relationship, or rather this marriage, would bring him, and in the end he made his choice.
Their wedding had just been celebrated that weekend, and now the newlyweds, so young, rich, and beautiful, with everything going for them in life, were spending their honeymoon on one of the enchanted islands of the Caribbean, sharing passionate and exceptional moments. Moments that should have been Chandler's.
After all, gay marriage had long been accepted in America.
And here in Los Angeles, gay couples could live their love openly.
Of course, there were still difficulties, but then, nothing in life was simple.
Nothing except for Jack and his wife.
And now Chandler found himself at this masquerade ball, dragged along by his unworthy friends who left him to go have fun on their own. They were really considerate to bring him here to try to take his mind off things and make him understand that there was no shortage of men. They even hoped he would have fun and spend the night with one of these strangers.
As if that were possible, he thought cynically. As if it were that simple.
He loved Jack, he shared that love with him, because Jack loved him, he was sure of it, but maybe that wasn't enough in the end. Not to mention his own misdeeds, which were completely unknown to him but were bad enough to break that love and lead to the end of their relationship, and he lost him. For now, nothing could console him. He loved him so much.
And then, suddenly, as Chandler had just turned away yet another guest, or rather one, a beautiful woman with hair as flamboyant as Ariel's and a mask of the same shade, he remembered a discussion he had had with his two friends before they left for the party.
"Actually, tell me, Chandler, did you really love Jack?"
Chandler took care to hide his surprise, although he was deeply shaken by the question.
"Of course, otherwise I wouldn't be suffering so much now!"
But his friends just shrugged and continued playing with their phones while waiting for him to get dressed.
Too intrigued by the question, Chandler asked,
"But why the question?"
Another shrug.
"It's just that, in all the time we've known you, you've only ever dated men with a very specific physical appearance."
Chandler couldn't help but jump and swallow hard.
"Really? I hadn't noticed." "
"Of course you have. We're your best friends, you know, so there's no need to hide it from us."
"And what do you mean by specific physical appearance?"
"You know very well. Tall men, at least six feet tall, always with jet-black hair and the face of an Adonis."
Jack was all of those things. Chandler laughed, but his laughter trembled.
"But anyone would want to date men like that. I tried to aim high."
"And that's normal," his friends assured him. "Everyone wants to be with someone who is physically beautiful."
"Those who say otherwise are hypocrites, liars, and most of them are the ones who can't have it." "
"And with your looks, you could easily aim for the top."
Chandler smiled at them. He was aware that of the three of them, he was the most handsome. And the only gay one. His friends were fascinated by his chestnut hair, which always fluttered in the slightest breeze, his faded blue eyes, and his perfect white skin.
And in his midnight blue velvet three-piece suit and black Venetian mask adorned with moonstones, he was simply breathtaking.
The party the three friends attended was held in a huge, sumptuous villa organized by a wealthy businessman whose name they did not want to reveal, but one of whose friends was the assistant.
"He'll definitely be there," he assured them with a deferential tone. "He loves parties."
Chandler had no doubt about that, but he wasn't in the mood for it. Yes, he admitted, he had only ever dated men with a certain physical appearance, but that was only because that was his type, it was as simple as that, there was no other reason. There never would be.
The ballroom was truly immense, about twenty times the size of their living room and surrounded by a huge gallery. The party was a real success. Champagne flowed freely, the buffet was delicious, although the young man barely touched it, and people were clearly having a great time. Some couples, including his friends, had already disappeared to pursue the fun further. Chandler, his heart still heavy, sighed and threw his head back again, and it was at that moment that he saw him. He was standing above him, leaning casually against the wall on the gallery.
For a moment, Chandler thought his heart had stopped beating. The world had stopped turning for him. Time had stopped its inexorable march.
He recognized him immediately, even though so many years had passed. He recognized him even from that distance and with the Venetian jaguar-shaped mask he wore with class, hiding half his face.
He had always been tall, but now he was at least six feet tall. His hair was no longer ebony but ash-colored. And his eyes were that rare and captivating amber color. Eyes that hadn't changed, sublime and always looking at others with irony and disdain.
He hadn't changed on the inside either. He was the most imperfect being Chandler had ever known and would ever know.
And he continued to stare at him over and over again, as if he would never be able to take his eyes off him, to the point that he must have felt Chandler's insistent gaze and finally turned his head in his direction.
The impact of their eyes meeting almost made Chandler faint.
He laughed at himself, his emotions so vivid and overwhelming. In the end, as writers and poets said, there was no age limit for this. The young man was living proof.
His first love. His first time.
Everything fell apart, or almost did, when a bald man in his forties, his face half-hidden by a red lace mask, pushed him roughly and bluntly asked him to spend the night with him. He was drunk. Chandler, mad with frustration, pushed him away violently before turning to where he had been standing, and for the second time in his life, felt his heart stop beating when he realized he was no longer there.
He let out a muffled cry and didn't immediately notice that the man he had courted and rudely pushed away had gotten up, albeit with difficulty, and grabbed his wrist forcefully.
"You're coming with me, you dirty little bastard. I'm going to..."
"...leave him alone, because he's already with me."
****************************
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