textbook exception; z.hao

three

" let me colour us golden, "

zhang hao

sat on the front row of the show, smiling as the camera landed on me, my face displayed on the big screen for the whole world to see. the bustling arena fitting thousands of people screaming their lungs out, only to be met with sore throat in the morning when they're about to go to work. it's december again, the chilly weather bringing much nostalgia; it couldn't be felt inside the stadium, sweats building up, stamina running cold, the shoes squeaking against the stage with screams of those who love to easily.

...

remembrance of teenage memory filled with bittersweet memories he ought to forget. it's been too long to remember the reason for it, he reminisce of his dream to be a performer, six years passed by, the dream he fought for, one made with sacrifices and trials along the way come rushing back to his memory, standing in a stage witness by those in the chapters of his tale; the one he loved, and those who left, an accidental dream cause by the love of his life; the loved of his life.

2017

night classes has ended awhile ago, eleven past thirty; i find myself stuck inside the classroom helping others self doubts; final exam approaching without a break from the monthly test. after a long while of trying to leave, i was finally able to make my way out; met with a girl standing in the middle of grassy field, legs shivering in frozen ground. i called out the female with casual greetings as to why she's even out this late.

huang hera; turned towards my position with swollen knees and hair perfectly fallen on her shoulder, her eyes lingering in mine telling a million stories i can't decipher, her lips delicately curving a heart shape, her perception of life; so beautiful, the elegies she wrote describing in a way so real i felt as if i was experiencing them myself yet it felt ungraspable, something no one else except her could achieve. she writes painful memories like cupid search for love.

"trainings," she replied, her soft voice, lower than usual; perhaps because of the cold, the tip of her nose reflecting lights, starry sky pitch black, with her in front of me— it was daylight , golden seeping its way to my heart.

"it's late, let me accompany you home." i reply, now walking in the same line as her, the noticeable redness on her ear, clearly shivering in cold— her outfit consist of a shirt underneath her uniform without a coat. undressing the thick layer of outerwear, putting it over her shoulder, despite her bag being on the way; she looked at me with those dreamy eyes, how could my heart not frolic at any given moments made with her?

"wear it, you'll catch a cold"

huang hera

walking side by side, his eyes radiating the purest form of love mortal has ever seen; my peripheral vision fell onto his hands; the contact of his and my neck, his coat embracing me warm with fallen snow on the ground. "wear it, you'll catch a cold" , my heart on its natural habitat; steadily beating— louder and louder it gets in my ear, silently praying the male did not hear such thing.

"thanks,"

he stops his track, his eyes on mine— "wear it properly, hera." he says before taking off the shoulder bag supported by my shoulders, hurriedly, i put it on the cement below us, rejecting his touch completely; wearing the coat, avoiding his heart eyes, the crimson liquid from the vessels of my veins; blood rushing into my cheeks; it's the cold, or at least what i like to believe.

clearing the lump on my throat; "it's a few blocks from here," i signal, a sign for him to leave and get on with his night.

seconds, lasting longer than it's supposed to; a paradox went wrong, the golden hue holding the soils in his eyes shining brightly, it was daylight— only to find it was mustard yellow instead of golden.

as i was about to take off the long khaki coat, his hands intertwining with mine; stopping the actions of my scarred hands. "keep it," he says gently like a mother caressing her newborn child. "it's cold, get home quickly, i'll wait here." his words flaunt effortlessly, blood rushing into my cheeks—

"thanks, again." making my way towards the dark aisle, not once looking back— turning my body towards him, waving my free hands, silently wishing the moment would stay forever in an endless minutes of the milky way being shaken centuries after centuries. hopeless smile, with tinted cheeks in mid-november, moment which could only be describe with words unlike the photograph taken by my mother who breed her daughter, a pathological achiever hopelessly in love, a forbidden affair she ought not to act upon.

zhang hao

as she turn over, back facing me, i find myself smiling giddily— taken aback by her sudden turn, wiping the smile off my face only to giggle, her prominent self waving shyly at me, her tinted cheeks might be the cause of coldness, i'd like to think otherwise.

"cute," i watched her returned home before leaving the dark aisle, a smile creeping its way to my face without realisation, a mansion of hopeless romantic my thoughts occupied by her every being; my very reasons of living. the watch on my wrist implied twelve fifty eight, past midnight, does she always goes home at this hour? i wondered, wouldn't it be risky?

...

grunting, i open the door of the main entrance, to my mother standing in front furiously. "where had you been? it's one twenty four. classes ended hours ago!" her voice sprinting across my ear, piercing across all glass. biting the inner of my lower lips, i urge to ignore her words, but my optimism got to me; instead,

"i had to stay a little later than usual, there were group discussions." i said, walking up the wood-covered staircase. "as if, you'll know what happen if you keep acting up." she sound one last time before arriving at my bedroom, plopping myself on the comfy mattress, too tired to get up, too lazy to wash up as i found myself walking on dreamland.

-handsome, you're a
mansion with a view