The first time you see him, you’re frazzled. You’re wearing your rumply work shirt and digging your hand through your backpack, trying to locate your Chapstick.

He’s effortless. Slacks, a button-down, and those circled Ray Ban sunglasses that remind you of Jon Lennon, but on him, they’re otherworldly. The beginnings of an afro accompanied by weeks-old scruff, and you are lost.

You manage to keep walking, and although you aren’t trying to make eye contact, you are. He walks past you though, his head held high and above your rumply work shirt.

You find your Chapstick.

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