I try to focus on my adorable boyfriend's small hand, but Nick's lack of reaction makes it harder than it seems. There's a small part of me that hoped he'd be jealous, that he'd be at least surprised. But nothing. He pat my head and said he was happy for me. That’s it.

He's also not often at the apartment anymore. As if avoiding me. But that last part is probably my imagination, my brain wanting Nick to avoid my boyfriend out of jealousy. It's been a week since Max and I are together and for the first time Nick and him meet in here, even if Max is always over here.

Max is sitting next to me on my bed with my laptop, reading some novel I started to write approximately when the semester began. My main character's love interest is so obviously Nick that it hurts, but Max only seem to find it funny, laughing every now and then.

Nick doesn't miss the opportunity to tease me about how I let my boyfriend read but I won't even let him touch my computer in fear that he'll find my novels once again. What he doesn't know is how Max understands in a way he probably couldn't. In a way I really don’t want Nick to understand.

It all feels so wrong, all this pretending and lying to the world, yet it feels so normal. We don’t crave each other’s being there. We aren’t attracted to each other by anything other than physical appearance.

We get a few glances, disapproval from a few, but mostly support. My mother was literally jumping around when she learned her baby boy finally had a boyfriend. I’ve gotten closer to Jacques as he too (even though his boyfriend seems oblivious to it) noticed how some people just wouldn’t treat him the same as before he was with Martin. I’ve even noticed some fangirls who thought Max and I were adorable in a way I truly don’t understand. It feels like the only ones who doesn't share the hype of the new relationship are the one who truly should. Max and I.

Of course, I like spending time with him. At some point, I even realized how lucky I was to have such a cute boy calling me Love. Then I also realized it wasn’t me he was giving such a nickname; it was directed to another guy all along.

Max and I feign happiness so well that I almost believe it. We’re not unhappy, but there’s this lack of something between us. Of course, sitting next to him, my head on his shoulder and his hair tickling my nose a bit feels great. To be wearing one of his t-shirts that smells like him and that was stained with multicolored paint makes me happy. But it’s just not the same. I dream of Nick when I hold Max; Max dreams of someone else when he holds me. We’re together because we’re lonely; yet it makes it hard to forget how lonely I am when Max is by my side.