Star

By L. Ngo

Silently, his eyes loomed beyond the window. The familiarity of this atmosphere that I remember all too well.

I briefly recall the first meeting, years when we, or should I say, I, was still naive. The pack of wild junior girls, howling at him. I tried to talk to him, all too many times. His tone, so bored. His voice, so vague. Yet his eyes, so beautiful. Perhaps dangerously. Then and now, the similarities remain.

"I want to be a doctor."

His eyes were shimmering; his hair had not looked so fine and sharp. He radiated, it felt as if the room was getting warmer and warmer. I couldn't stand it.

I hated him.

Time and time again, the teachers were flabbergasted by his results, the students coveted. No matter the amount of time, the mass of books, the countless efforts. I could not be so miraculous.

Time and time again, he was unhappy with his astounding marks. No matter the amount of time, the mass of books, the countless efforts. He could not score what he desired most.

That glow upon his face as he entered a room, that sparkle in his perfect teeth, that pointy and stylish hair. The heavenly body, never falling, but always shooting.

I hated him.

Slowly, he exited onto the platform. His perfect figure getting smaller from view. He continued to shine in the darkness.

That one instant. That one memory. That one shimmer. That one man.

I envied him.