The Most Popular Boy

I remember spilling acid on myself during our chemistry finals, and you didn’t even gaze away from your experiment. Heck, you didn’t even flutter an eyelid for the fear of wrong measurements. Later on, you explained how doing well in the chemistry exam was important to get into your dream college.

And I believed the most popular boy in school. Someone whom everybody admired. Someone who could be with anyone, but had still chosen me.

Ten years later, you are even more handsome and even more successful.
And I’m even lonelier than before.

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