Page 86 of Just My Type of wrong guy

Lying on the couch, Daniele wears one of her ridiculously short, high-waisted denim shorts — which Guilherme hates — and a slightly worn white shirt that makes me laugh: “But, Daddy, I love him.” And Alexandra … Alexandra is next to her, wearing baggy pants, her hair loose, and a shirt that clearly belongs to Dani, because the phrase on it is “I promise it’s not me, it’s you” in huge black letters.

She’s right.The problem is me.

I should be talking, paying attention to the guys, teasing Guilherme for eating so slow and almost ceremoniously. Or even hurrying everyone up to start playing.

But all I can do is stare at her.

At the way her hair falls over her shoulders. At the way she rests her fingertips on her knee while listening to Dani excitedly tell some story.

“So, are we playing?” Richard asks, grabbing our attention.

“Go for it, babe, I wanna record everything about this night.” Dani laughs, and I laugh with her. But the way Guilherme pulls away from Beatriz shows that her slip-up, calling Richard “babe,” doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I hate when you treat the guys like this, you know?” Guilherme spits out the words, walking toward us. “And you’re pathetic with those ridiculous shorts that almost show your uterus,” he says, in Portuguese.

“You’re not my dad.” Daniele argues without even looking at him.

“Maybe that’s why you’re like this, he gives you whatever you want.”

“Daddy just respects me!” Dani snaps, and her eyes go straight to Richard. They haven’t gone public to protect the band — Guilherme can’t know, because his reaction would be exactly this. Even so, my friend expects her man to defend her. And Richard, who never disappoints, walks toward us. “I’m not that sixteen-year-old girl who was brought here just to stay away from the dangers of growing up around bad influences in Rio, Guilherme,” my friend says with mockery.

Alexandra translates Daniele’s words when she sees me lost. Even though we practice Portuguese, long sentences still confuse me.

“You’re being…” he opens his mouth to speak, but Richard touches his shoulder and turns him to face him.

“You’re beingsuch a jerk. You shouldn’t talk to her like that, not now, and never.” Richard raises his voice just enough toembarrass Guilherme and crosses his arms. “Daniele’s a grown woman, she knows exactly what she wants to do or not, wear or not. You can’t control her and call it “care” anymore.”

With each translated phrase, Alexandra ’s eyes widen a little more.

“I didn’t know you were the official defender of my sister.” A sarcastic laugh leaves Guilherme’s lips as our vocalist narrows his eyes, staring at Richard like never before.

“Dani’s part of the band, I’d never let you humiliate anyone here, Guilherme, wake up.” Rick deepens his voice and dodges the mess he got himself into. “And I think this needs to stop here, you’re ruining an amazing night because you’re scared your sister’s a human being with desires.”

Alex starts to speak, but I shake my head because this one I understood. And I agree.

“And I think you’d better…” Guilherme clenches his fists and yells, but Beatriz steps in front of him.

“Stop it, Luv,” she warns, hands on her hips. “Jealous of a grown woman? You’re being ridiculous.” With that, she turns on her heels and walks off toward Daniele.

“You say that because you don’t have sisters.” Guilherme walks past Richard, bumping his arm into his, but Richard doesn’t budge and smiles at my friend.

“Actually, she says that because he listens to me, Gui. Unlike you.” My friend’s words come almost in a whisper. “I’m not your little doll in a showcase anymore.”

“Stop tripping, Dani.” Guilherme breathes deeply. “It’s not… like that. Sorry if I want to protect you, but that’s the role of older brothers.” He shrugs, speaking without words that this won’t change.

But I understand my friend’s pain. To Guilherme, she’s the perfect sister — the amulet, the biggest trophy of the band — until she stops being. Until he realizes she’s not just his littlesister anymore, but a grown woman, fully capable of making her own decisions. Coming from the tough reality they grew up in, Guilherme sees himself as the protector, whether against delusions or this vague fear of watching her lose her way.

So, Guilherme and Richard continue staring at each other, trapped in a heavy silence. The tension is thick, almost physical. Guilherme knows full well that our drummer will never understand this weight, and Rick, for his part, shows no interest in thinking about the wounds that growing up as a peripheral youth opened in our vocalist. To Richard, it’s sad and punitive to control Daniele’s life because of a past that has nothing to do with the present. So, we all glance at each other, waiting for them to give in and end this Cold War.

When they both breathe deeply and nod at each other, deciding to let the tension go, everyone breathes a little easier—though Guilherme doesn’t say a word, and Richard moves toward Daniele in silence, pulling her into a hug like he’s trying to protect her from her brother.

“So, guys…” Thomas calls, his voice so normal that I wonder if this guy was even here for the last few minutes. “Aren’t we gonna play?”

He hops off the pool table and heads for the bass. Alexandra looks at me, raising an eyebrow, and I don’t think Richard and Guilherme are in any condition to do anything together just yet.

“Do you sing?” I ask her.

Alex laughs softly, the answer obvious, and her face seems to ease the tension a bit. The atmosphere, however, is still heavy, full of unspoken words hanging in the air.

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