Page 78 of Just My Type of wrong guy

Richard chimes in about how weird it was going back to his parents’ house in a small town in the English countryside — just him and them, day in and day out, with the occasional visit from friends or people from his parents’ church.

“At first it felt like a nightmare, then it just… felt like home again. Even with that look of disappointment that always shows up eventually.”

“Your parents don’t like your career either?” Alexandra asks, half-laughing at the tragic-comic tone.

“I’ll give you the short version — Carlos is already slicing the meat,” Richard says, brushing his hair back over his shoulders. “My parents kinda hate me because I’m not the perfect son.”

“Your parents love you, Richard,” Daniele cuts in like she’s said it a million times. “You’re almost thirty. Acting like the victim is ridiculous.”

“I’m not playing the victim, babe. I’m just not who they dreamed of,” Richard shrugs, filling his glass and Dani’s with diet soda.

“The fact that they treat you so well despite you being the exact opposite of what they expected is proof they love you, Big Bear,” Dani sighs, and Richard kisses the side of her head.

“I hate that your favorite sport is being right,” he mutters as she leans into his neck.

“Aww, how cute,” Carlos teases, setting the board of grilled meat on the table. “Now let go of my daughter and let’s eat.”

Beatriz rushes back inside with Solange.

“Jeez, Dad, relax,” Guilherme says, sipping from his glass like nothing happened. I fight hard not to laugh, and Alexandra squeezes my hand under the table.

With just a look, she silently asks if Dani and Rick are a thing. I try not to answer. But she sees it in my face. In shock, she swallows hard.

“So… Dani, how do you feel now that they’re back?” Alex asks, still a bit thrown.

“Nervous, honestly. They left here on the rise and came back blowing up — top 10 on Spotify, top 8 on Billboard. I felt like a proud mom watching her kids grow up,” Dani says with asmile, looking around at all of us, and we silently thank her for everything she’s done for the band.

“I don’t even know how we survived that long without you,” Guilherme says proudly. “I can’t believe you’re doing the rest of the tour with us.”

“Me neither. This year felt endless,” she groans as Sol and Beatriz return.

“Time to eat!” Beatriz announces, bringing out the perfect sides.

The rice comes out first, followed byfarofa, Brazilian style coleslaw, and black beans — presented, of course, in order of importance.

Conversation flows easily.

Guilherme acts as his mom’s personal translator as she proudly tells us she’s starting English classes on Monday.

Alexandra stays quieter, but she’s at ease — smiling often, interacting with the girls. The guys, already used to her, go out of their way to make her feel welcome. Until Guilherme’s parents realize who she is.

Sol apologizes, explaining she just arrived yesterday and can barely remember her own name. Carlos doesn’t miss the chance to put Alexandra on the spot, telling her to catch everyone up.

She starts out shy, with Guilherme translating the basics. But soon, he only has to hit the highlights — everyone but Thomas already understands some Portuguese.

Alexandra sets down her fork and begins to talk about her journey since the soap opera andGenZend— carefully skipping over the lack of support from her father. She explains how she ended up with Vicious Bonds, thanks to Guilherme. After that, she answers a few questions, her voice growing more animated as she shares stories from the tour — through the eyes of someone outside the band.

Over the past few years, this house has been the truest reflection of “family” I’ve ever known. Here, I found warmth again — comfort and safety. So watching the girl who was once unsure about coming, now sitting right beside me, laughing and sharing stories, makes me quietly thank God that she fits so effortlessly into this family — maybe because, just like me, she needs one too.

Chapter Twenty-four – Alex

It’s so singular, my meetings when they’re with you,

my smile when you’re there to smile along,

and my stories when you’re there to listen…

Singular – Anavitória

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