The Joy of Reunion

Eight years ago, the first time we met. The crowds bustled and the noise swirled around us. I caught only a hurried glimpse, but I fell for the sunlit curve of your smile. A gentle breeze stirred a few strands of hair, and the warm sunlight fell just right on your radiant smile. Just below the right corner of your mouth was a tiny mole, the most familiar memory from my childhood. My friend said you were our junior, but I was about to graduate, while you had only just entered my sight.

Six years ago, the second time we met. Men and women packed the changing room, rushing to change into new clothes so they could put on a good show that day. I had just returned to the country when my friend suddenly grabbed me as a last-minute substitute. I listened to my friend's warnings: don't laugh, don't walk too fast, don't walk too slowly. Out of the corner of my eye, I happened to see you slip into view. I still clearly remembered your sunlit smile, which had once gently stirred my heartstrings. But now, under the bright lights, you were like a sculpted statue, your face stiff, your features sharply defined and full of masculine charm, but with none of the carefree spirit or brilliant smile you once had. I hadn't prepared for this chance encounter and didn't know how to speak to you, but the energetic music had already started at the front of the hall. You followed the crowd and carried out your duties with cool professionalism. I was behind you, and then behind the person behind you... I don't know how many people stood between us. When the show ended, I hadn't even seen the back of your head, and then a call from home hurried me back.

The third time we met, I never would have expected to find myself in that situation. It was only because a friend mentioned in passing that his friend, you, had also gotten an audition. I thought I had a reason to be there.

Theme: Strive for yourself. Strive for freedom.