The producer leads me to a specific exhibit, a painting by Sandro Botticelli. There a man stood. His hands were in his pockets and he was staring up at the painting of a man so unshockingly exposed with only a scarf to cover parts of his body, not really covering anything important. Cameras surround him as well. The light from the cameras seem to make his hair glisten, a mop of jet black hair encircled his head. But his stance was what gave him away. I will remember that stance. He stood with his shoulders relaxed and his chest out, his head tilted to the side so casually. He radiated confidence when in reality he can’t even tell a girl he loves her without turning beat red and stumbling his way to the car. I pretend to be oblivious to his existence. Then a man talks into his ear and he turns around, finally showing me the disgusting face I used to love.

Kai.