Conflict of Interest
July 19, 2026
Girlhood comes with many fears.
Bad hair days…
Broken nails…
Cellulite…
Unfaithful men…
But there’s one that humbles a woman like nothing else: finding out your man has a taste.. for men.
The slightest hint of uncertainty, and the group chat becomes the Federal Bureau of Gaydar, every girlfriend working tirelessly toward expert status.
Each case opens with the same question:
“Girls… do you think he might be gay?”
The night before our first date, the Bureau opened the Jean file.
Evidence: Inconclusive.
Witness accounts: Conflicting…
Verdict: Further investigation required.
The following evening, years after it all began, my forever crush and I finally had each other all to ourselves. The instant I saw him, I knew: some things never change. He was still, undeniably, one of the most beautiful men I’d ever laid eyes on.
Unfortunately, I’m spectacularly unreliable in the presence of exceptional aesthetics. Despite my professional responsibilities as lead investigator, all I could focus on were his long black curls framing his face perfectly…
I was in awe — hating it and loving it in equal measure…
I figured, if nothing else, it’d be great research…
It was attraction at its purest. Words were mostly a formality… We were both too busy admiring the view. Our eyes, however, were remarkably eloquent.
Two aesthetically compromised individuals had been left unsupervised.
Eventually, we managed to look at something other than each other.
America.
He told me why he’d left.
It was… a gay story!
What?!
The Bureau had certainly not been expecting fresh evidence quite so soon. As an undercover agent, I remained professionally composed.
Internally, the case had just become impossibly contradictory…
Apparently, his father was co-opening a gym in the States.
Jean’s very first day on the job was hardly a warm welcome. It was just him and one other guy, getting the place ready before opening day. His entire morning was spent hauling heavy gym equipment up two flights of stairs all by himself.
Anyway, by noon, it seemed the heavy lifting had done exactly what heavy lifting tends to do..
The compliments came first…
Then the flirting…
By the end of the day, things escalated.
The man walked straight up to him, grabbed him by the balls, and leaned in as though someone had yelled, “Action,” and they were suddenly in the wrong genre.
Jean lost his mind.
So, the opening act ended with a headbutt…. and a genre switch!
The gallant suitor crumpled to the floor.
But Jean wasn’t finished..
While the rejected admirer lay semi-conscious on the floor, Jean continued to beat him until he felt he’d finally made himself understood.
Later that night, Jean woke up to the crash of his front door being knocked off its hinges, followed by an army of officers pointing guns at him as though they were taking down an entire cartel.
Barely dressed, handcuffed, in his favourite tank top — both nipples out — but still sporting perfect curls and an unforgettable face card, Jean was charged with assault, hit with an entry ban, and deported from the country.
See, some people, no matter what they do, are always irresistibly sexy.
….Beauty is remarkably self-sufficient. What can you do?
Case notes: He was either very much gay… or not at all.
Regardless, we had a good laugh…
And, occasionally, some excellent workouts together.
…In bed, of course.
Last night, I was on top of him, drunk on the moment, whipping my hair back and forth like a wild stallion as it kept finding its way into his black curls again.
All I could think was, “God, how beautiful this man is!”
At that very instant, as though he’d read my mind, his hand glided slowly from my chest down to my waist. He looked up at me, and said,
“Wow… you’re so beautiful…”
The Jean file remains unresolved.
I, however, had to resign from the case. The Bureau has strict policies regarding conflicts of interest.
I violated all of them.
…But don’t we all have that one person who becomes our favourite weakness?
Jean is mine.
And if, ten years from now, fate crosses our paths again and neither of us has wandered into someone else’s happy ending, I know exactly how the story will go…
We’ll find ourselves alone in a room, yet again…
And the night will be ours.
Thank you for reliving this moment with me!
See you next Sunday at 4.
Love, Kiki