Hell is the World we Live in

"Fatima- wait!" I stopped my mad dash for the stairs and stood still. "I think you're brilliant," said a familiar voice. The shouting voice.
I peered over my shoulder, half hiding my ruined face of makeup. A tall, middle eastern man stood three feet behind me. He was attractive. I caught myself staring for too long and wiped my face with the collar of my shirt.
"I-"
"I heard you the first time," I said, abruptly cutting him off. "What do you want?"
There was a few moments of silence, and then I heard him move from behind me. "Don't let them get to you," he said. Two rough hands lifted my face and dabbed away black streaks with a soft, pink cloth about the size of a child's hand.
"Thank you..."
He grabbed my hand and placed the pink towelette in it. "'Hell is the world we live in,'" he paused, somber. "'All we can do is look forward and make the best of it. Maybe then it'll feel like heaven.' My mother told me this on her death bed. Despite how hard life is, despite shitty circumstances, and no matter what might try to put you down, if you don't do your best to combat that, you'll never be happy."
He then gave my hand a little squeeze and walked past me back to the elevator. I looked down and let out an audible "oh". I quickly made my way to the elevator and put my hand in the closing door.
"Um! You left your... you left your-," flustered, I stuck out the cloth towards him. "Keep it," he said, "It'll give you a reason to talk to me next time."
He clicked a button on the panel and leaned back against the wall. "My name's Aziz Kareem. Don't forget." Right as I went to say, "I won't", the doors closed. I stepped back even further and watched the elevator monitor go up until it stopped at 7.
I opened my palm and looked down, thoughtfully, at the cloth. "'Hell is the world we live in', huh..." I gripped it in my hand and placed it to my heart. "I like that," I said and took the stairway up to my dorm room.