Do you believe that everyone around us only has one face?

            Like the vast globe, or like the environment around us—they are very different. They are different because we look at them that way. We cautiously or recklessly travel around the world based on our perspective that it’s safe or harmful. And as I’ve said, first impressions dictate outright judgment and controls your action if you would stay away or approach that place or person. Still, it’s better to use your first impression based on preparedness rather than paranoia.

            “Emptied…” She holds the glass.

            All of us started as somewhat empty, but because of the other people worldwide, giving us a different perspective of their impression. We became beings full of meanings—colorful. Although from the beginning, as I’ve said, we are the only people who can create the most authentic image of ourselves and none other. Whatever meaning is given—if not from ourselves. It will never be complete.

            “…Dull.” I whisperingly responded.

            The blade suggests the front of it to be glimmering with all sorts of blinding lights—its sharp innocence proves hope of such unparallel wonders. While on the back of the sword, colored with all fifty kinds of shades, it has shown disdained sufferers and immovable despair due to upbringing. Even though they are but the same style, they offer different quirks.

            Different but similar.

            With that said, first impressions cannot be applied to everyone who holds a coin in their hand. As they, with smoke and mirrors, will pull the wool over your eyes with smiles and flattering modesty. It was as if they were devoured with patience and malicious intent that cannot be seen.

            That’s why you all, ladies and gentlemen, should carefully understand a handsome man or a beautiful woman before rushing head forth. They might actually be a playboy or a gold digger.

            “Fit.”

            “Thin…”

            “Oh—c’mon, we aren’t playing word chain here!”

            “You are so noisy, you know that—do I even know you?”

            “What?! Of course, you do. This slender and fit body. This beautiful, charming face. And this big, chummy, and fluffy chest. I know you know me, silly.” As she spoke about the excellent aspect of her appearance, she displayed it to me clearly.

            Well, if you think about it. I think she looks kind of familiar, but it’s too good to be true. If she was actually her, then I’ll say that she has changed for the better. I don’t really have anything I can think to doubt her, although I want to play dumb for fortuitous reasons.

            “Look, I apologize, but I seriously don’t know anyone with that kind of appearance.” I put my thumb and index finger in my chin, thinking. “Let me see… oh wait, are you supposed to be my long-lost sister?”

            “…well… that would be nice.” She became deluded with such imagination while she showers me with a very joyful face. But after a minute, she then snapped back.“Wait, stop playing dumb, will you! It’s me, Angelica Grey.”

            Still, I can’t believe how grown up her body is, and she is still a third-year middle school student at that. I guess you call her appearance the prodigy itself. Even her mother, the Principal, isn’t big-breasted, which is disappointing. I shouldn’t say this to her, though.

            I wonder how many confessions has she gotten? Or is she already engaged?

            If she were, then he would be right beside her right now.

            “Is that a sincere confession? Those appearances might as well have been fogged with a deceiving leather. From what I remember, my niece isn’t noisy, and she doesn’t mess with me either.”

            “I had to do it. If I didn’t, then I would totally regret it halfway through. I mean, Isn’t it a waste if you don’t get to say the lines you’ve always wanted to say in such a situation?”

            “Doing it will make you regret halfway through. And if you want to say your lines, then make sure you line them up properly. They are supposed to heighten the impression of the people around you, not creep them out.”

            “…I hate to say it, but I guess you’re right. Although I never thought it was actually creepy…” Angelica dejectedly slumps on the table. “Say, why won’t you—”

            “We’re not talking about that.”

            “I haven’t even finished yet. Hmph, sulking around and acting like an edgy pitiful person. It’s like you are trying to take attention from the others to console you. What has gotten into you? I never thought that Mr. Toal’s hard work on making you a tough man has been wasted.”

            Tch, ever the insult, and I don’t want to exhilarate myself from responding. However, I can’t really come up to tell you, or that telling you would break the purpose of my reasons. And I get it, too much. I respected Mr. Toal, who was a great man. Although he never really knew a single thing about me. He just wanted me to be like him—a great man.

            So you’re right. Poor old man’s guidance was wasted on me.

            But it’s time for birds to fly and flowers to bloom. To change. I swore to myself that I wasn’t going to be a waste forever. I’ll make them see the boy; they mocked and humiliated me.

            I stood, “I am leaving.” And left her alone, staring at me perplexed.

            I don’t want to take the bait and consider talking too much because it’ll only expose me. I’ll just say that the former conversation was amicable. Too bad, I wasn’t born capable of properly continuing and brightening up the conversation. And an endgame conversation is a miserable weakness of mine.

            “You’ve always been a selfish person—always have been.” I stopped aggrieved—even though it was the truth. “Once I graduate out of middle school, I swear to enroll in your high school and pull you back!” With a faint smile, I continued walking.

            Then make sure to thicken your commitment for eight months. It’s not easy to make a promise, you know.

            A second after I left Angelica in her own business, the manager finally returned with an apologetic face. As both of her arms held a large amount of cosplay attire in a big plastic bag, which made me thought of her as a laudable beast. A ferocious woman born to become a threatening cosplayer.

            I decided to call it a day and hid the paycheck that I got in my pocket. The inside of the compensation didn’t really matter to me because I bet I would be using it anyway. My money’s worth is only at the house of my parents. They can use them better than me. 

            “…I am finally free, huh?”

            Sitting on the Plaza’s bench, I held melancholic thoughts with closed eyes—remembering the old past that I can’t correctly comprehend within my knowledge. My feet became cold, and my whole body tirelessly felt uncomfortable.

            If I went into the past, what would the best action I’ve done from the situation bested into me? If only I was four years ahead of my stupidity and had already learned to never worsen a situation. Would I have changed something else entirely different? If only… it’s tough to blame the past for who I am today.

            I can’t answer them—I don’t want to.

            I am such a complete mess.

            I feel like I want to close my eyes and wish I’d never open them back.

            “As if…”

            “‘As if’ what?”

            A girl’s voice appeared out-of-nowhere, directly responding to my pointless plead of out-loud soliloquy. It’s just that her voice was somehow familiar—who was she? I kind of had this feeling that I’d like to know this girl, but I ended up just shutting myself with closed eyes.

            Maybe she wasn’t talking to me. In any way, girls talking to you out-of-nowhere doesn’t happen until you are a stunning hotty—and I am not. Or is it Angelica pretending to be someone else? Or someone else entirely? Who knows…

            I could feel her moving closer, and she then sat on the bench beside me, giving me some sort of affirmation that she was talking to me. I opened my eyes and looked at her.

            Like a professional track and field contestant, she displayed an innocent look with tied-up hair. Tied-up hair seems to actually make her more charming and beautiful. But I can’t help but avert my eyes from her stares that have some kind of purpose. Other than that, she wore our high school uniform and was holding nothing.

            Who is she? Why is she wearing our uniform even though I haven’t seen her?

            I wanted to ask the question now—I don’t really have any choice but to say it clearly.

            “…” I looked at her, baffled.

            She ignored my question and asked, “Hey, do you like my hair?”

            “I guess it suits you well.” I bluntly respond, as always.

            “I appreciate it. I thought my hair looked too plain, to be honest. I never really change my hair very often—but having to do it, it seems like I am not regretting it.”

            “You think I can change like you too?” I loudly said without consciously knowing.

            “What are you asking about? Of course, you can. Because it’s not impossible—not like a dream. If you keep on thinking about the consequences of the change you wanted, then you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to change.”

            She looked at the sky, dyed with crimson red, slowly fading away into the dark void.

            “I wasn’t really a fan of tying up my hair—nor do my friends. But even if I am not a fan and even if my friends don’t like it, it doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t do it. Right now, I mustered up my courage just to do something I didn’t want. It was somewhat worth it. And I think that you should somehow end up like that too.”

            If changing yourself was like a dream you’ve never wanted, then I am sure it would be really satisfying. If anything, I really want to experience the satisfaction that you’ve felt. But for that to happen, I have to move on and end my problems.

            But it’s not that easy…

            “…Thanks, I guess.”

            “Oh my, I didn’t really do anything. It was just that I also wanted to say something that I’ve had in my mind. That ‘change’ cannot be lost unless you finally tell yourself that you’ve given up.”

            “That’s some very inspiring words… something I can’t really say out loud for no reason.”

           “I am grateful to be the voice of someone else’s life.” She smiled. “It makes me remember of the time I was once inspired by a certain person.”

            I’ve never genuinely helped anyone out there—it was just that I helped them because of my own self-satisfaction. It was also in my account to mind someone’s business with such insensitivity in truth. Still, I looked at it as something I called ‘business,’ so whenever I talk to someone who felt troubled. I never had a problem saying what I wanted because I never looked at it ‘personally.’

            Like I was drunk from my own emotions, where every action I do is fluctuating through such uncontrollable ecstasy. Still, whenever I am done with all my business, I forget about the small parts about them. What I said, what she said, and what happened after that. It’s like nothing happened.

            I am such a troublesome person; I can tell by just analyzing what I’ve done.  

            “He must have been a great person.”

            “He was… well, I guess you could say that for the most part.”

            You mean, the least part of him wasn’t? I wonder who this person was exactly—although it seems like it’s someone I wouldn’t want to know or meet. It’s none of my business, after all.

            She then looked back at me, worried. “You seemed tired and was about to fall asleep. Did something happen?”

            “I… I am just lost right now.” I answered. “But it’ll go away later.”

            “Ah—if you don’t mind, let’s keep on talking, shall we?”

            “Alright.”

            The half-moon stood above, reflecting the recoiling light in the middle of darkness, which accompanied our conversation's mood. In my mind, lingers the feeling of wanting an endless discussion like this, but I knew that all good things must come to an end.

            Somewhere along the line of our conversation—I mesmerizingly closed my eyes with a faint inconspicuous smile. But in that place I was sitting, I wasn’t alone. I was with somebody that I didn’t know—that I was able to converse appropriately with the scent of entertainment.