The hair follicle on my hands were erect. Probably due to the room which was pretty chilly. It was BM lesson. The second class occupying my Friday evenings. Subsequent, after my Cambridge one. Todays lesson started off with the teacher browsing through a list of idioms and catchy phrases that were ideal to be used in essays. After that, it was the main course. BM literature. Better known as KOMSAS. It was a poem. 'Arkitek Kota'. Before moving on with the rest of the lesson, the teacher took his black marker and wrote 'profession' and the numerics 1 to 5 in a vertical order on the white board. He asked for us to list them. A handful of students kept repeating the obvious answers, which were 'doctor' and 'lawyer'. Then, there was momentary silence before I suggested architect. Trying to sound smart. My voice had a cheeky tone. The teacher looked at me from the corners of his eyes causing some of the students to laugh. then, he averted his gaze back at the white board, jotted my answer and placed the marker at '4' to pen down his next thought. As he was busy searching his 'database' again I kindly offered an answer. This time in a smoky cool voice. 'Porn Star'. Almost the entire class burst in laughter. I even had half of them applause for me. I felt proud for a moment. I was happy. I saw you from the back. You were laughing. Because of me. We don't even know each other. But, I think I love you. Just looking at you helps subside the woeful pain she imposes onto me. If there's anyone who can cause me to drift away from abiding the chimera like feelings I have for her, it's without a shred of doubt, you. For that, I thank you.
