Orion likes the night. The streets are empty, the engine is loud, and nobody asks questions. Pavo likes watching the man across the street on his blue-and-red bike - the one who never takes off his helmet until he's out of sight. He doesn't know why he notices him so much. Only that he does. For months, they're only shadows in each other's lives. Until a single moment cracks the distance wide open. Wish I Were You is a slow-burn urban romance about two men caught between wanting to disappear and wanting to be seen - and what happens when someone finally looks back. ~~~~~ Go follow me on TikTok @Heavenskylerrr for updates and schedules

"Is that what they're callin' you now? Warboy?" "I suppose so, sir." ✯✯✯ The 1960s were a turbulent time-Vietnam raged overseas, and America simmered with unrest. But for Cassius Grant, life was supposed to be simpler: take over his late father's cattle ranch, keep his head down, and honor the legacy left behind. He never expected war to come knocking on his front door. And he certainly didn't expect Wyatt Fortner. As the draft looms and the world grows more dangerous, Cassius finds himself torn between duty, desire, and survival. In a time when love between two men is not just forbidden but dangerous, Cassius must navigate the unforgiving land he calls home-and the even harsher terrain that is discovering connection. All he wants is to make it out alive-alive enough to love and be loved in return.

December 1943 World War two plagued everyone's mind, especially Matteos. Two years after moving into his first apartment, becoming a best selling author, and finding a routine with his cat, Pot Roast, he receives a letter in the mail. He had avoided the draft so far, his life finally smoothing out after 20 years of trying to find a home. Now, it was getting ripped apart. Ronans mind was plagued with war in a different way, he dreamed of fighting in the Infantry like his dad did over 25 years before. Raised to shoot, fight, and survive, Ronan was ready for this war despite how his chest ached when he pulled the trigger of a gun. Matteo: December 25th, 1943 I sat in my bus seat, holding my picture of my cat, Pot Roast, trying not to cry again. It all felt too real now, 13 weeks of hiding in my apartment and now my Christmas gift was basic training. My chest felt tight now, my leg bouncing up and down. "Is that who you're fighting for?" A voice asked while sitting down next to me in the worn seat. Hundreds of other men already gone, probably dead, who had worn the upholstery down to patched threads. "That's who I'm being sacrificed for."