Sing to me

Good friend. The Best

      My life is one big endless abyss, a black hole where all happiness and joy disappear, leaving only gloom and despair. Well, not all life, just my personal one. With the usual, everything is fine. I'm a great actress, shooting in Hollywood, signing advertising contracts, new movies, and other amazing opportunities just pouring down on me, not giving me a moment's respite. Hordes of fans squeal at my every appearance, write amusing fanfiction, and follow me on social media. It might seem like a fairy tale: lots of money, a job, but why can't people like me truly be happy?       My personal life is a complete mess. The universe just mocks me. I'm unhappy. I can't find the one who will make my heart skip a beat and then beat fast. I'm lonely. I live in a huge, empty, and cold apartment, dreaming of a prince on a white horse. A normal prince on a white horse because I've had enough of those ordinary princes who turned out to be ugly ducklings inside. It seems you start dating a guy, someone visible, handsome, smart, well-read. You start thinking he's the one, fate. He understands you, cherishes you, kisses you tenderly, but then, in a moment, the fairy tale disappears. He no longer seems like a prince, turns into the villain from those same fairy tales, and you step on the same rake again. You realize you've given your heart to the wrong person again. And it hurts so much that you want to howl at the moon all night and have a hysterical fit, blaming yourself for being so foolish.       In general, that's why I'm sitting here alone, in this godforsaken bar at the edge of the city. Hiding from paparazzi and crying in my soul over another guy. In my soul because I've long cried out all the tears. There's just no strength left to scream and break into a hellish tantrum. I'm so tired of everything. I don't understand what I've done to offend the universe that it doesn't give me a chance at love. It doesn't allow me to meet the one I so desperately need...       People around, noisy, and the air smells of old hops. The whole atmosphere screams: loser, loser. I sit on an uncomfortable stool right behind the bar counter and think that this is how it should be for me. I'm truly a loser. How else can you explain that I keep stepping on the same rakes over and over again, and keep hurting myself by choosing the wrong men?       This flow of sad thoughts was interrupted by a familiar, husky male voice.       "Hello. Drowning sorrows in alcohol again?" asked Henry, taking a seat at the bar next to me.       Henry. Henry Cavill, my best friend. A handsome Brit who always shows up just when I'm feeling down. When I'm once again breaking up with yet another guy and come to this bar to drown my sorrows.       By the way, how many glasses of champagne have I already had?

***

      Henry walked into the familiar bar. How many times had he been here already? Five? Seven? Ten? He had lost count. Every time Eva's latest relationship ended, she came here and tried to drown her sorrows. And Henry came after her. He stood at the entrance, gazing at her back for a long time, watching her shoulders tremble with a sad look and cursed himself.       "Why doesn't she look at me?"       That thought crossed his mind every time.       "Why does she never choose me?"       Their friendship was so old, and it bothered Henry so much. How he wanted to be with Eva, love her, protect her. He wanted her to look at him with tenderness in her gaze and an innocent smile on her lips. But no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried to express his feelings or hint at them, Eva never noticed, never wanted to understand, never wanted to hear him. She just joked and talked about her new boyfriend, saying that this one would definitely be the one, he would be her destiny. But she was wrong every time. And as much as Cavill was happy about it, it hurt him just as much as it hurt Eva. It hurt because she was sad again, sorrowful again, and quietly cried inside somewhere, blaming herself for another breakup. And this time, Henry also stood by the bar's exit for a long time. He stood and watched Eva, as she sighed quietly and slowly finished another glass of champagne. He watched people having fun around, joking and laughing, passing by Eva without recognizing the famous British actress in her.       Taking a deep breath, Cavill eventually decided to approach Eva.       "Hello. Drowning sorrows in alcohol again?" asked Henry, taking a seat at the bar next to her.       The girl smiled weakly.       "Yes. Again," she said quietly.       "Aren't you tired yet?"       "I am."       "Then maybe I can take you home?"       "Let's go," sighed Eva and finished her wine in one gulp.       Henry raised an eyebrow in surprise but didn't say anything. After all, Eva always reacted sharply to relationship breakups.

***

      The night-time London flickered outside the window. Henry was driving the car along the central avenue and occasionally glanced at Eva, who was looking out of the window. She sat silently and, since they had both left the bar, hadn't uttered a word. From the faint wrinkle that ran between her eyebrows, Henry suspected that her thoughts were currently too apathetic and depressive. He had a strong urge to brake, get out of the car, give the girl a good shake, and shout at the top of his lungs, urging her to get rid of all those foolish thoughts, stop searching for men, and look at him. To really see him.       Gripping the steering wheel tighter, Cavill suppressed his foolish impulse.       "What are you thinking about?" he asked, breaking the oppressive silence.       Eva startled. Tearing her gaze away from the night city passing by outside the window, she looked at Henry.       "Handsome," echoed in her mind. She had always considered Henry a handsome man and a good friend. The best. It was strange because usually, these two qualities were impossible to find in one man. But Henry wasn't an ordinary man.       The chiseled cheekbones, a cute dimple on the chin, a straight aristocratic nose, and short black hair that so disobediently and simultaneously charmingly fell onto his broad forehead made the man incredibly attractive.       "And why do men like Henry never look at me?" Eva thought, once again sinking into her gloomy thoughts and paying no attention to how often her heart skipped a beat at just a fleeting glance at Cavill.       "Eva?" Henry called the girl again.       "Sorry. Lost in thought," she stammered, emerging once again from her thoughts into the real world. "Did you ask something?"       "I did ask what you were so deeply thinking about," the man smiled.       "Oh, the usual," the girl snorted, settling more comfortably in the passenger seat. "About men. Why I'm not lucky in my personal life."       "Maybe you're looking in the wrong place?" Henry suggested, nervously tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.       They were almost at Eva's home. He didn't want to let her go again...       "I would be glad if someone could tell me exactly where to find 'those' men. Or 'that' man,"       Eva smirked and again gazed thoughtfully out the window.       The entire remaining journey to Eva's home, Henry gathered his strength. For himself, he had already decided that it was enough. Enough of losing the opportunity to be with her, enough of picking her up from the bar and listening to her talk about how unlucky she was in love. He should have confessed to her long ago, directly expressed his feelings, and put an end to their relationship. In any case, there could only be two outcomes: either Eva would accept his feelings or not. Although, of course, the second option was more likely and terribly frightened the man... But he simply couldn't stay silent anymore. Now the silence and the constantly broken heart of the girl caused physical pain to the man. He had to tell her. Confess... And if needed, let her go.       Pulling up to Eva's home, Henry stopped the car by the sidewalk and turned off the engine. The yellow moon disappeared behind the clouds, and the sparse streetlights barely illuminated the road, creating an intimate atmosphere in the car just right for an important conversation.       "You know," Henry began when Eva had already opened the door to exit, "there's something I'd like to tell you."       The girl looked at the man with interest.       "What?" she asked, slamming the door.       Here is the leap of faith, the moment of truth. Now or never. Henry must confess. He must tell. Speak directly.       "Stop searching for men," he said.       "What, sorry?" the girl didn't understand.       Henry sighed loudly. Somehow, it didn't go as planned... This wasn't what he wanted to say. Not like this.       Looking at Eva, into her beautiful big eyes, he sadly smiled and continued more seriously:       "I meant, stop searching for 'the one' somewhere far from yourself. Stop meeting new people, look at your surroundings, at your close ones. At me... Look at me."       "I don't quite understand you, Henry," Eva frowned in confusion and nervously bit her lower lip.       "I love you, Eva."       Silence filled the car. Henry could hear the girl's heart pounding wildly and couldn't understand: was it fear, disgust, or something else?       And Eva sat there, looking at Henry with wide eyes. Her good friend. Her best friend just confessed his feelings?       The heart betrayedly pounded, and cheeks reddened. But not from fear or embarrassment.       She saw in Henry's eyes so much pain, despair, and love that she understood... Realized, believed. He wasn't lying. He loves her. Truly loves, to the point of heartache and trembling knees. Strongly, passionately, and forever. Just like she does.       "Me?" Eva blinked in surprise. "I love Henry?"       "Why don't you see me?" Cavill couldn't bear it and broke the deafening silence. "Why have you never thought about me?"       Eva opened her mouth and closed it again, unsure how to answer his questions. All those years when they were together, it always felt so good with him, calm, warm... She didn't notice how sweetly her heart squeezed in the presence of Henry, how her soul began to tremble at the sound of his voice. So familiar, with a hoarseness that made her knees weak.       "Do I love Henry?" Eva asked herself again, not believing how long she could have overlooked her own feelings.       Although she could... After all, she was afraid too. Afraid that if her feelings turned out to be true, if she told Henry about them, he would reject her, as they were just friends... Even if they were best friends, they were still just friends. Her poor heart wouldn't bear that.       "I see you, Henry," Eva finally replied.       Their gazes met. The girl saw entreaty, longing, love, and desperation. She would have never thought that eyes could truly reflect so many conflicting feelings all at once... But she saw them in Henry's gaze.       "I love you too, Henry," Eva shyly smiled. "I..."       "I don't want to search for anyone else. I want to be with you. I see you, I look at you."       Eva wanted to say, but didn't get a chance. Henry's lips covered hers, and the long-awaited kiss told everything for them. It spoke of Henry's true, passionate, and intoxicating feelings, and of Eva's newfound incredible emotions towards this dark-haired British actor, who suddenly transformed from a good friend, a best friend, into a true love.