Aaron Foley's "Boys Come First" is an Ode to Adult Queer Friendships Like No Other.

Frederick Smith wrote, 'Imagine the thirtysomething angst of Insecure meeting the queer Black friendships of Noah's Arc, intersecting with the dating dilemmas of Waiting to Exhale, all rolled up into the dynamics of a gentrified Detroit and you've got Boys Come First.' A damn near-perfect description of one of the most raw and honest books I've read in a long time.

In Aaron Foley's BOYS COME FIRST, we meet thirtysomething best friends going through the most: Dominick is forced to go back home after catching his boyfriend in bed with someone else on the day when he's laid off at work, Remy, a focused real estate mogul on the rise dealing with two men who won't commit, and Troy, a teacher with major daddy issues and a bummy boyfriend who's a lot to deal with.

You wonder where he is, Troy thought to himself. And then you wonder how, exactly, you got to where you are now. And then, maybe, you begin to find your way out.

If there was ever a book I'd love to see adapted for the screen, this is it. The book invites us to experience the Black queer adult life in it messy and complicated fullness, alternating between perspectives of these best friends - with Remy being the only one being told in first person (something the author said was deliberate since it proves just how complex a character he was). At the core of this friendship, we see Dom, Remy and Troy navigating life as a thirty-something gay man who's had dreams about where they would be at this point in their lives, romantic and sexual endeavours with Grindr in its messy glory making a cameo every now and then, and the drama that comes with unattainable goals in a language that it raw, honest and unapologetically witty, you'd gobble this up in one sitting.

While Young Adult books about the queer experience are important in terms of visibility and representation for the young generation, seeing more books and stories told about the adult queer experience is another thing I would like to see more of. Adults living non-glamorous lives and simply being is a representation that we seem to be lacking because when authors sit to pen down a book nowadays, they do so to fit into a kind of trend and grasp at a readership that likes a certain narrative, forgetting that we are varied and of a myriad of lived experiences. Adult queer people exist, and normal stories portraying them as just moving from one job, one Grindr hookup, navigating depression or simply just working a 9-5 job is something that we can all resonate with. And that's all we need sometimes.

TW include mentions of PTSD, trauma and mild suicidal ideation, intimate partner abuse, and drug use. So, if you're suffering or have an experience with these you ought to tread carefully.

Another thing to note is how the book introduces the setting and location to us; you feel yourself being drawn and a part of Detroit, almost seeing it vividly through the eyes of the characters and how the author sees it. It is a love letter to the city that birthed him, and an admonishing of the culture of gentrification that is shown to be gradually taking over and erasing most of the culture and history embedded in this beautyful city. It is also why I feel like vvhite people will not be pleased by this book and how it shows them as the grabby opportunistic bunch they are - but I understand. They should be displeased, and maybe they should choose not to read this book if they are of the minds that they need to be something to resonate with it because like gentrification, some things shouldn't be taken and repackaged to fit those who do not fit.

Some things should just be ours. Somethings are simply worth gatekeeping.