My Good Looking Boy

His bright smile. His tattoos. His pericings. The long curly hair made him perfect to me.

The mission almost every Tuesday was to see him at the little Starbucks in the student union. He always smiled at me and of course it's just the customer service duty.

I know he doesn't rcare for existence and will always forget about who I am as soon as I leave but it's nothing wrong with a small crush. He never wore a name tag, so his name is unknown but he's what I call my good looking boy.