“I’m the straight guy.”

As we cuddled in his room, half past midnight, he’d said he had a confession to share with me, but I have to admit this was the last one I was expecting. In the moment, I could only muster one word in response:

“What?”

It didn’t seem possible. After all, I was the one straight guy on this show. Right?

When this whole gay reality show thing started, I figured the easiest way to pass as gay was to shack up with someone. That’s how I met Felix.

We spent a lot of time together since the show started – working out, playing games (“loser has to bottom!”), sitting up and talking past midnight. Being with him was… easy, I suppose. I loved hanging with him, even if the sex isn’t really my bag.

In all the time I’d known him, he always the loudest, the cheeriest, the proudest person I’d ever met. So seeing him like this – naked and afraid, fighting not to cry – was viscerally frightening in a way that’s hard to put into words.

“Look! I know it sounds stupid!” Felix said, getting up, “Especially after we’ve just done it but just… just hear me out man.”

He paused to look up at the ceiling, as if to will the tears back into his sockets.

“I don’t… you know, I was never into like, ‘gay culture’ or whatever, so I thought that the best way to not get eliminated was just to hook up with someone.” He was clearly agitated, scratching all over his arms and his neck, “At first I thought it was going to be miserable trying to fake it. But then I met you!”

Felix was beginning to speak faster. Breathe quicker. Scratch harder.

“You’re so smart, and strong, and funny,” he continued, “and we like the same shows and we play the same games. The more time we spent together the more I realized I was just being myself. The more I started to think that that maybe…I don’t know! Maybe I’m… maybe I’m not…”

Felix stopped short. He couldn’t bring himself to actually say the words. Instead, he gestured wildly with his hands, hoping to convey some meaning.

“And I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed do now! Are you going to hate me now for lying to you this whole time? Am I supposed to tell the producers about…about this? Do I have to… how am I going to…” he shuddered.

“What am I supposed to tell my parents?”

Slowly, involuntarily, Felix began to cry.

“Shit! Fuck!”

He got more agitated as the tears slipped out; so ashamed of his own weakness. I know the feeling. All men do, I think. The more he cried, the angrier he got with himself. The angrier he got, the more the tears slipped out. He started clawing away at his face. Flecks of blood came away at the nails.

“I’m such a fucking idiot! I’m such a fucking idiot…”

“Felix!” I grabbed him by the wrists, and pulled him into a hug. “C’mon man. Don’t do that to yourself! C’mon. You’re fine. Everything is going to be fine.” I just said stuff like that over and over. It felt so stupid, so “not-enough,” but what else could I do? We sat there a while. I brushed his hair, and whispered these words at him, and slowly he started to calm down.

“A-ah well, a-at least you know who the straight guy is now!” he forced a laugh to break the silence, “got your million-dollar prize or whatever.”

“Well, uh, funny thing about that,” I answered, “I signed up as the straight guy too.”

Felix scrunched his nose. “What?”

“Yeah. Funny enough, I actually had the same idea as you.” I laughed, “figured pairing up with someone would ward off suspicion, you know?”

Silence.

Then a question.

“So… that means you’re actually straight? Like… actually actually?”

I felt my blood freeze when I heard the pain in his voice. I wrestled with my answer for a moment, but in the end, I decided to give what, at the time, felt like an honest answer.

“Yeah. I-I thought I was the only one. Maybe there was some kind of mix-up…” I kind of trailed off at the end. He didn’t challenge the silence. He left my arms and sat up next to me.“Look,” I continued, after a pause, “It’s true that I’m the straight guy but you’re still my friend, Felix! I’m here for you if you want to talk, or you need a shoulder to cry on, or-“

“Actually,” he interrupted, quietly, “I think I just need to be alone right now. Sorry.”

He gestured at the door. I stepped out. Softly, so softly, he locked the door behind me.

I should have felt some type of way about how things went down with Felix. But the truth is, I didn’t feel worried, or relieved, or sad, or angry – just numb. Although, I felt really bad that I didn’t feel anything, if that makes sense. I stood by his room for what must’ve been hours – couldn’t even work up the energy to move.

So in the end I just sat down right there, and I listened to him cry from the other side of the door.