The entrance to the middle school was bustling with activity—
Right at the main gate stood an oval-shaped flower bed, filled with roses and lilacs. Two semicircular staircases wound around the sides of the flower bed, leading down to the street.
San Francisco is built on a hill, a typical mountainous city, where even within the city, so slopes are so steep you can't see the top when you look up. More than half of the buildings are constructed on these slopes, making it crucial to balance the architectural horizon. It's common to see buildings like the school in front of you, which uses staircases to balance the foundation—a sight familiar to the residents living here.
At this mont, students were gathered at the school gate, breathing in the fresh morning air.
Michael was no exception.
Having just arrived at the school entrance, he didn't rush inside to get ready for class but lingered around the flower bed like the other students.
He was wearing the school's standard uniform: a light blue shirt, navy blue blazer, and light gray trousers—the sa for everyone, with no exceptions.
However, the sa clothes can have entirely different effects on different people. Broad shoulders and long legs made the otherwise ordinary uniform look sharp and impressive, drawing a brief pause from passing glances. But those glances quickly turned into disappointed expressions as they moved on.
He had a bowl-cut hairstyle, reminiscent of the Beatles when they first arrived in the U.S. in 1964. If this were that year, this haircut might have won over the girls, but that was forty years ago.
Moreover, his head was slightly bowed, with thick bangs not only obscuring his eyes but also making it hard to discern his facial features. His shoulders were slightly hunched, giving him a sowhat slouched posture, and his overall deanor was restrained, subdued, and introverted.
A waste of a good physique.
And that wasn't all. It was obvious at a glance that he was engrossed in a book, his shoulder leaning against the wall as he read in the morning sunlight—
Hello???
Can soone explain why, aside from trying to appear pretentious or being a shut-in, a sixteen-year-old would be carrying a book and reading outside the classroom?
Poser!
Seriously, what a poser!
A glance was all it took to dismiss him. No one wanted to linger long enough to take a closer look—he was forgotten as quickly as he was noticed.
If—just hypothetically—if soone did stop to carefully observe him, they would likely be even more disappointed.
Michael carried a shoulder bag adorned with various pins: NASA, a guitar, musical notes, Bob Dylan, Grateful Dead, The Beach Boys, whales, and more.
An old-fashioned Walkman hung from the outside of the bag, with earphones plugged into his ears. Everything about him seed like layers of armor, separating him from the world.
Every strand of hair, every cell in his body radiated an aura of a misfit.
Soone to be avoided.
"Cut!"
Gary hadn't even realized that as soon as the word left his mouth, he regretted it. There hadn't been any issues with the shot, yet he interrupted the filming.
But there was no ti for regret now—his mind was entirely captivated by what he'd just seen, his heart pounding with a sudden thrill.
So, without saying a word, Gary sat down in front of the monitor and quickly replayed the footage.
Unlike before, this ti his attention was entirely focused on one figure—
Anson.
Anson Wood. He still clearly rembered the na.
On the screen.
Michael's gaze was so focused, so imrsed, that it was as if the book and music had paused. In that unintentional glance, Gary caught a trace of tenderness. Though the corners of Michael's mouth hadn't curved upwards, there was a faint smile in his eyes.
Who was he watching?
The cara hadn't captured it, as this scene wasn't in the script, and naturally, the cara's focus hadn't included this mont.
But Gary followed Michael's gaze across the school gate, past a dozen students, and easily found the answer.
—Mia.
Yes, Michael was secretly in love with Mia.
Eyes don't lie.
Michael's gaze never left Mia, quietly observing her every move, sotis amused, sotis eager, as if the entire world rose and fell with Mia's expressions and gestures, rendering ti aningless.
These details, Gary had completely missed earlier.
And then Gary saw it—the mont that held his gaze so firmly.
Michael's smile lifted slightly, even breaking into a soft chuckle. But then he quickly realized that his expression might betray his secret. He imdiately lowered his gaze, smoothing out his features, trying to conceal his feelings.
This was the essence of a crush.
Careful, tentative, afraid that any tiny detail might give away his secret and ruin the slim chance of anything happening. Yet, unaware that the emotions he thought were well-hidden had already been exposed in those very details.
After briefly, almost defensively, hiding his emotions, Michael couldn't help himself. Without even realizing it, his gaze lifted again, drawn back to her.
Focused and profound.
His blue eyes seed to contain entire galaxies, the morning sunlight paling in comparison, with all that light shining only for one person.
In that fleeting, passing mont, Michael was still the sa Michael, but he radiated a light that captured all attention.
And then.
Michael watched Mia, lost in his own world, his shoulders slowly relaxing, the corners of his mouth lifting into a subtle smile, his entire being softening as he quietly fell—
Fell in love.
One glance, one movent.
That was all, yet it felt as though an entire world had been revealed, holding Gary's gaze with a force so powerful, so overwhelming.
A crush may be the loneliest thing in the world—nothing may have actually happened, but in one's mind, worlds have crumbled, oceans have dried, and mountains have fallen.
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