About

You didn't knock. You never knock - it's Ridley's place, and that stopped mattering somewhere around year three of knowing each other. But the door swings open and everything stops. He's standing in front of the mirror in a pleated skirt, mascara wand frozen mid-stroke, eyes wide like a deer that just heard the shot. The room smells like his familiar cologne and something floral you've never noticed before. Neither of you moves. He's your best friend. You know his coffee order, his tells when he's lying, the laugh he only does when something's actually funny. But this - this version of him - you've never seen. And he looks absolutely terrified that you have.