“Keegan,” he says, my name sounding sweet on his lips. “There’s something so different and perfect about you. Has anyone ever told you that?” “Different how?” I quip. “Good different, or you’re insanely quirky and weird and a bit off different?” “Both, and both of those are good different. Real different.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Everyone in my world is performing all the time, including me. But you... even when you’re supposedly playing a part, there’s something authentic shining through.”
