Current Issue 2026

“Today is the day,” says a spirited cowboy after rotting in bed for a few hours now. “I’m going to find him TODAY.” Juan launches himself out of his messy sheets for the sake of finding the one. He already knows who it is, but he still needs to find this man and hopefully win him over. But what can he do to prove himself? Well, he dresses with an extreme and outstanding personality. He refuses to blend in with the crowd by wearing a giant leather jacket, bell bottoms so wide they swing with any movement, and wooden-soled leather boots that make a sweet yet powerful thuck when they strike the floor. This transformation from bed-rotting-fool to runway cowboy is meant to be his identity amplified, all to present that indeed he does have an irresistible personality. 

Juan swooshed the pearly fringe on his sleeves, and he pretended that his confidence wouldn’t shrivel the moment he walked out the door. “No,” his statement was firm, “I flourish wherever I want to.”

The moment Juan left his apartment, he wanted to crawl back in the pitiful shelter. All sense of backbone and assurance crumbled then and there. 

But no, this isn’t about the mysterious man he wants to see. He has better things to do. He’s a busy cowboy that has to run errands! He has no time to waste—none to go to an overpriced coffee shop to do his mate calling there, nor to the mall since he has too many clothes already. Where must he go? The grocery store. Sure he might go because he’s looking for “the one”, because every human needs to get groceries eventually, but that’s not the full reason. Our dear Juan ran out of tomatoes for dinner. He was meant to kill two birds with one stone, nothing more. 

He strode along the imaginary runway—the sidewalk—and despite his neck snapping to the direction of any afro-haired silhouette, Juan told himself that he would never find the one on the streets. 

He had found him at a coffee shop, but only across a crowded room, and yet that was enough for Juan to know exactly what he was looking for. The shout of the barista’s “Andre!” echoed in his cranium since that day. He searched the city relentlessly for the combo of a silky button up, long white trousers, and a moisturized, coily afro that challenged the tenacity of the sun. Juan’s interest was locked in on a man designed by the seventies, but he remained in the river of denial. Despite his peripheral vision begging for attention and hallucinating the love of his life, his determination told him to walk straight and uncaring, almost angrily because he simply could not ignore the fixation that completely consumed him.

He ended up at the grocery store now, without complications and without hopes. The confidence of his clothing seemed to tell a lie in contrast to his hunched back and hooded eyes. He memorized the place of everything in the store—fifteen long steps to the right and he’d find his tomatoes there. But how many steps would it take to find the one? 

Apparently, only seven. 

He found the afro he was looking for and the beautiful figure of his dreams. Long arms reached out for artisanal bread, easily reaching the highest shelf. Andre placed the loaf in the basket, not throwing, not tossing or putting. Placing. Respecting the delicate nature of the bread. Juan froze and inhaled a silent gasp. He imagined he was the tender brown loaf with no backbone, wanting to be gently held and placed by the hands of this lovely man. With the slight turn of Andre’s cheekbone, Juan gulped and walked away, reaching the tomatoes much faster than anticipated. Juan flapped open a plastic bag with force and tossed not three, not four, not five, not six, not seven, but eight roma tomatoes without even focusing on what he was holding. His face flushed red just like the fruit, and even if he didn’t know it, the man he had been looking for was still glancing at him with bright eyes, intrigued by the outfit that would soon bring them together.

Bananas, strawberry jam, a pack of marinated chicken breast, dates for some reason, and somehow Andre ended up in the same spot either by true coincidence or because he wanted to form a conversation. Juan fled for the last time across the store, finding a quiet hiding spot in the cleaning aisle. He pretended to be invested in the lavender Suavitel next to the towering infinity of other fabric softeners. He stared down the Suavitel as if it were a competition, opening the container and smelling the lavender, pretending to be captivated by it while the entire source of his love and terror simply walked closer and closer in his vintage shoes. Juan’s body screamed, his heart cried with joy, but his brain panicked with an anxiety that said, “RUN! RUN AWAY, JUAN!! ¡¡CORRELE WEY!!”

“Hey!”, approached the beloved Andre, “I really like your style, especially that jacket.”

Juan’s neck slowly creaked to his direction, presenting nervous eyes with a stupid smile, “E-Eh?” 

Andre paused and asked again, “Oh, um, your jacket?”

“AH! Th-Thank you- um… I made it myself- no- wait, I didn’t- I didn’t make it myself, but I did the stitching and-um- and the pearls… I tailor clothes, that’s why.”

Andre’s eyes seemed to glow, and a sparkle that looked like a northern star in his black pupils shined for Juan. 

“Really? You tailor?! Thank God, I’ve been meaning to look for a tailor! See, I got some bell bottoms that fit OK, but they make my ass look like a briefcase. It doesn’t even cinch my waist the way I want it to either. It’s at a weird mid-rise spot that makes me look square.”

Juan looked straight at him like a surprised doll with a wide smile, nodding with joy. “I can definitely fix them. I share a dry-cleaner’s spot on Valley View and-…” he looked down at the waist that the man was talking about, and it truly was cinched like a woman’s. “I’ll just need your measurements.” 

There was a moment of silence before Andre laughed and shifted his hips. 

“Measurements! Hell yeah, you can get my measurements, boy.”  

Juan flustered and backed away with several steps at a time, “WAIT- I DIDN’T- I didn’t mean it like that!! Wait- Wait- but not like that- like they’re really good but- WAIT- no- I-I mean like your measurements cause- I saw you from far away at the coffee shop- Wait- nono, not like stalking you- like, watching- NO- WAIT-!” Juan backed into the Suavitel and bumped his shoulder, nearly dropping the gallon of fabric softener before launching to the floor and grasping it. It was at that moment where his dignity also hit the floor. His body trembled and his eyes were shut tight. He didn’t have the bravery to open them and see how Andre looked down at the pathetic scene, much less how the people around him backed away and gave him glares. Andre soon kneeled down and reached his arms out to him as if to shield him from the crowd. 

“Are you ok? Lemme get that for you.” 

Juan squeezed the Suavitel harder and rolled on the floor to face away from him. He began to cry. 

“…Did I do something wrong?” 

Juan shook his head.

“Do you need some help? Come on, lemme pick you up.”

Juan shook his head more.

Juan watched Andre gently grab the Suavitel and place it back on the shelf, with just enough love as soft bread. Andre then kneeled down at Juan.

“Let me pick you up, please? It’s ok.” 

Juan shivered like a fearful dog, burying himself in the volume of the overconfident jacket that lied to the world.

Juan covered his face and said, “You can leave.” 

A look of worry washed over his face. “Not unless you want me to. I don’t want to leave you here alone like this.” 

Juan’s eyes, red and glossy, met his, and Andre felt a sudden wave of kindness overflow in his body. He wanted to hold the poor thing, not out of pity but out of a certain instinct that came out of nowhere. It couldn’t be affection, could it? Not when this man caused a panicky scene in the cleaning aisle close to the exit of the store. But maybe this was simply the extension of the feeling that was present when they first caught eyes at the coffee shop. Despite Juan hiding behind his hat the way a child would hide behind their parent’s legs, what Andre saw was a mysterious cowboy with crossed legs and a small, cheeky smile. And yet Juan stood here now, shivering with the collar of his jacket covering his cheeks. 

He croaked out, “Why?” 

Andre lightly sighed and held his arm with one hand. “Because why would I just leave you here like this as if you were some sort of creep? I know you just got nervous. I just… I thought you were interested but it’s ok, you know? Let’s just get you home.”

Juan’s mouth gaped open as if to speak, but nothing came out. He begged himself to scream that he was interested, infatuated, in complete adoration, but only a frail wheeze came out of his open mouth. He clamped his jaw shut and cowered back into the safety of his coat. 

Andre held onto the shoulder of his newfound friend, walking along with him to the exit without expecting anything in return. Even though Juan shivered like a cold, nervous chihuahua, he didn’t know if it was from nerves or joy anymore. He simply shut his eyes, wiping his tears as quickly as they came down, all with a shivering smile.