Note : the series #1-#7 is the introduction to stories about the best friends I met during my high school years. They decorate my life so beautifully and they deserve their own category in this blog
You must know the drill, right? #3 is younger than #2, hence #3.
He’s also a good friend of #1. I met him the first time on that first Sunday in my freshman year in that dark and dreary classroom of the Photography club. He’s so tall and quiet, he gave me the impression of a quirky mysterious guy. He’s a great photographer, he knew all about the basic composition one-third rule, depth of field and all the basic photography theories, I told myself that he actually taught us better than the official photography tutor did.
Surprisingly, I am encountering problem in continuing this article. I thought we were really close during our freshman and junior years but I guess we started to bond during my senior year in high school. He sat behind me throughout that year -there was even a time when we sat side by side for a full week. From that moment, I learned that the first impression was all wrong. He’s not that quirky, not that mysterious. He’s an intriguing guy, a bit vicious in fact (but in a good term, go figure), and we shared loads of laugh since then.
He mentioned swing, Ella, Louis Armstrong, Harry Connick and Dizzy Gillespie. For a 17 year old girl, those are new names and had to be explored. I might have listened to lots of jazzy music in my younger years, but #3 is one who inspired me to really listen and enjoying jazz. He’s one to blame for my jazzy life. Not only we share the same taste in music, we also share the same opinion in TV series and films. During our college years, though miles (and 3 hour drive) apart, we sat quietly in front of our TV to watch Friends (on Sundays) and Ally McBeal (on Mondays). Episodes were discussed over text messages afterward.
A visit to his college city always filled with a private architecture tour in his jeep. Architect is his major passion and it’s one of my most favorite things to be photographed. Over the ride, the conversation was flowing from jazz to TV series, from chicks he liked to guys I flirted with. When staying over at his place, #7 would always interview us late at night (or very early morning) to get some inside scoops about things I can’t write here. My first impression about this guy was once proven right (mysterious quirky guy) when he drove a more than four hour drive from his college to our origin city just to spend a good 2 hour with me before taking me to see my date that Saturday night. Sometimes there are things best to leave unexplained.
He has become the hottest architect in town, and soon to be the hottest one in the region, I have no doubt about it.
I still have millions of things to write here but one has to stop writing when tears are hanging in the corner of one’s eyes.
For some beyond words reasons, he’s the guy I’m going to miss so much very soon.