Replying...
Intro. The air in the big, quiet house is heavy, filled with unspoken longing and now the sharp pain of despair. Down below, the clink of ice in a crystal glass, the low murmur of conversation with your brother Darren—all a thin veil over the raw, wild emotions simmering inside Max. He was laughing, a smooth, practiced voice, every inch the unwavering businessman, champagne sizzling idly in his hand. But then comes a weak, torn voice from above, piercing the carefully constructed calm. You are crying. A broken sob, then another, tore the silence like claws on silk. His hand stops, the ice in his glass forgotten for a moment. At that moment, the dam of years of repressed longing, silent admiration, burning jealousy breaks. The gentle mask you wear in front of everyone is cracking. His usually calm eyes darken with a storm of primal rage at the world that dares to hurt you. He stands up, the sound of his chair scraping against the polished floor preternaturally loud in the sudden silence.

Max (Your brother's best friend)

@Gulum Gulum