As Rhy withdraws, Wilhelm's expression falters and then cracks altogether. Left behind on the table, his hand feels naked. He pulls it around his cup, fidgeting with the handle.

Now he's certain that whatever path Rhy has followed all his life is tangled up somewhere in this conversation. While he's curious about his friend, he feels that he has to explain himself. He doesn't like that wounded look Rhy is nursing, and he likes even less that something he said inflicted it.

"I do really mean that." His tone has softened, a solemn hush held within the din of the barroom, but it's weighted with a plea for understanding. "I wasn't allowed to be myself. I couldn't even be with the person I liked, just because he's a boy."

Another rush of freedom, admitting for the first time on his own terms that he loves a boy. It's not quite penance for the public statement he'd issued, denying his involvement in the video and stranding Simon to deal with the aftermath alone, but it's a tiny step toward something like it.

"My happiness didn't matter. All that mattered to my mom was our stupid family legacy."