Call it overkill, call it twist of fate. You first found him interesting because he was playing Up Dharma Down’s ‘Oo’. Your other block mates were too busy talking about the new pogi rock band. You found all of them lame. You wish they’d stop. You wish—you heard someone from your left humming the first few notes of ‘Oo’. That song. A little film in your head plays that retro music video and now you’re hearing it. That timid boy’s sitting right next to you and he’s humming it. He had his eyes closed, his iPod shuffle clasped in his hands, and you were pretty sure that that was Armi Millare singing.
“Sa ‘di inaasahang panahon…”
Before that day, you haven’t really noticed him. His calloused fingers gently drumming on his desk. Maybe he plays the guitar? His eyebrows creasing once in a while, his head slightly bobbing. Maybe he’s getting to the ‘sana’y di ka na lang pala aking nakilala’ part.
And you found yourself wishing the opposite.
The song ended. He opened his eyes. Whoever said the eyes are the windows to one’s soul must have met him. His irises are dark brown and he looked like he just returned from someplace breathtaking. You have to look away, for those eyes can tear the sea.