In this story, we're looking up a guy that we had a massive gay crush on when we were in school. We're not in a position to do anything about whatever answer we get, but we ring his doorbell anyway and ... does he recognise us or not? We've been obsessing over him for such a long time.
The story does feel genuine, I'll give it that. It does feel like some significant thought has gone into the protagonist's emotional state, or else that it's an autobiographical offloading of pent-up emotion. Perhaps it's even wish fulfulment. As a game, though ... most of the links only open up asides to clarify the text. They're footnotes. There's really only one choice that makes a difference, and it's not one that the protagonist makes: it's one that the author leaves to us, the reader outside the story, to make about how the story should continue.
And that's a bit of a shame. The situation is ripe for a great deal more exploration than we see here. There are so many ways the crush could react to our protagonist, ranging from sympathy to disgust, and so many ways in which our protagonist could handle that reaction. And while it seems like a mistake to make that one choice about something other than our protagonist's actions, it could be very interesting to make that the overriding game mechanic of our story. It could turn into this conceit where we are playing not as the protagonist but as the author of his story. This really feels like a series of missed opportunities.
As breakfasts go, it's bread and cheese. Not grilled cheese, not Welsh rarebit, not toasted baguette and camembert; just white sandwich bread and processed cheddar. Maybe a glass of skimmed milk to follow.