Kunal never wanted it like this.
If he recalled right, it wasn't even his idea to pretend to be gay. A good indian boy couldn't...shouldn't even pretend to be...that. Not that he was a good indian boy, he was chronically shirtless and barely even knew what board shorts were, preferring to go in speedos. Not that anyone minded, the girls were known to follow him around. Even some guys would occasionally follow him, which always got a chuckle out of Kunal. How could anyone think he was gay? In his mind he was an Adonis, he exuded masculinity. He was gorgeous and he damn well knew it.
Where did his problems start again? Well, if he wanted to go back that far...it would have been Emily's apartment. He had been living there in exchange for...sex. It had been a pretty good living agreement, Kunal thought, smirking. But there was that fateful day he woke up and saw that indian, Sameer. He was nowhere as good looking as Kunal, but he was funny. Even Kunal had to laugh when he said he knew Kunal from all the "OHHHH KUNALLLL" 's he heard through the walls the night previous. In a weird way, Kunal almost felt connected to the guy. Two besharam desi ladkas in a completely different continent than any family: the world was their oyster.
Everything was perfectly fine until that bitch Emily kicked him out. Wait, she wasn't a bitch, she was actually a nice lady. Even he couldn't blame her for kicking him out. And now that he thought about it...her name wasn't even Emily, it was...um...irrelevant, he decided. Her name was irrelevant to the rest of the story, although she set in place the worst and best thing to ever happen to him ever.