Not long after I entered college, I met a boy. My first impression was that he was very white. If you get closer, you should be able to see the blue blood vessels on his skin.
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The first time we met was on an inconspicuous and dilapidated rooftop on the roof of a building in the school. The place was empty, with some discarded tables, chairs and large activity equipment piled up. It was a meeting place with nothing new, but the advantage was that it was quiet.
Peeking through the gap in the barrier: he had a cigarette in his mouth, a violin standing at his feet, and one arm bent to support the gray wall of the fence.
The first feeling is loneliness.
If I hadn't just seen the person in front of me being surrounded by people because he won a beautiful basketball game on the forum not long ago, then in my memory, such a person should be a perfect match for the male protagonist of a certain youth pain literature. Although it doesn't actually hinder it.
Intention: None yet