022.06 TONY – Paper Walls 11 Sep at 05:00 – 12:30

So I'm sitting opposite Veronika and it's all good. Pause. I'm really glad we're here together. She has her espresso, she left her camera in the bag today. She probably needs a break just like I do.

„Silence can be space,“ she repeats the words of coach Martina, just to say something.

I have the papers from the association folded in three. My fingers remember how I rubbed them in my palm all morning. Actually, it's not important anymore. I smile a little, even though I can feel how tired that smile is.

Then the door opens and here they are. Viktor and Tom. They come up to the counter and I feel my pulse jump a little. Viktor's double espresso sounds like a signal—I'm here, we're here, everyone is. Tom looks at my papers, then lets his gaze drift down my chest.

Veronika senses it. She doesn't feel good with Tom. She smiles apologetically and gets up.

"I have to fly, see you," she tells me quietly.

She says goodbye and there are three of us left there.

Roxette starts playing from the radio behind the counter. It Must Have Been Love. I feel as if someone has put on a soundtrack to what is happening between us.

Viktor puts a hair tie on the table, but I see Tom look at it.

"Seven out, three in, don't forget," Viktor says, and there is something intimate in that gesture. I feel the air around the table thicken. That rubber band is more than just a piece of latex—it's a code that Viktor and I are exchanging. Something Tom doesn't understand, but senses.

The clock on the wall strikes twelve. I slowly exhale – seven, as Viktor reminded me. I feel something tighten in my chest. As if the paper walls I built between love and fear are starting to crack. They're still holding, but not for much longer.

Under the table, things are getting tight in my pants. I feel our legs brush occasionally – Tom's, Viktor's, mine. No one pulls away. It's a strange mix of friendship and something more. Something that can't be named, but that all three of us feel.

We are silent, but that silence is louder than all words.