Fridays are students’ favourite day, as it was that time of the week when the weekend starts, where they can get away from all the stresses that their school had inflicted on them.   You, yourself, had been looking forward to this day as well. A typical Friday night for you would usually be spending some alone time in your apartment with a bag or two of potato chips and a bottle of red iced tea as you succumbed to spending the night with  your pile of chic flick DVD collection.   There was no denying it. You’re a er for the sappy, romantic stuff. Your friends were becoming worried that you were becoming a lunatic, as you kept holding onto or even fantasizing about some guy who doesn’t even exist. They have always been making constant remarks that you were being pathetic & boring, and that what you actually need was a real life--- where the real boys are.   Being the strong-willed person that you are, you dismissed their remarks and went on with your usual doings. Besides, that was your definition of real life. You’d rather be stuck at home, drooling over some fictitious guy who hasn’t come to life rather than get your bum touched by numerous erted men in that club where your friends are regular patrons during the weekends.   You actually tried going once, giving your buddies a chance due to their constant nagging, but you ended up punching a French guy squarely on the face as he tried to get you into his pants. The moment you felt his rough hands snaking downwards to your , you knew you had to go for it. Woman’s instinct, of course. His exquisite-looking features didn’t stop you from giving him the bruise he deserved on his face.   Since that incident, you’ve sworn to never step foot in that trashy place again just to snag yourself a man. Apart from the fact that you weren’t into dancing, drinking cocktails and mingling with strangers, you’re not that desperate to have one, anyway.   It’s all up to destiny, you always said.   You were broken out of your reverie once you heard the loud pouring of the heavy rain outside. Putting down the heavy, hardbound Theories of Personality book you’ve been using as props after countless hours of “reading”, you turned your head sideways as you watched the scenery becoming even darker and blurred as it was being covered by heavy rain droplets.   You looked at the ticking wall clock just right across you and it flashed 6:50PM. The library was about to close in ten minutes. You heaved a weary sigh as worry started to dawn upon you. Looks like you were going to be stuck in school for a few more hours or until the heavy rain has come to a stop. It just wasn’t advisable for you to go home right now.   This wasn’t your typical Friday night. The following week marked the beginning of exams week, and you’ve been burning your eyebrows from absorbing all of those psychological terms that might appear in your test, though the truth is you’d never really know which one would appear since your professor was the terror type. You’ve always had this notion that he would usually put questions which would initially make you think:  Which continent did he get this freaking question from? So you thought the safest way to pass was to read and memorize. Though your exam was still five days away, you’ve decided to get started now.   You’ve always loved Psychology but that long-bearded, Chinese emperor-look-alike professor of yours was starting to make you loathe it. Oi.   The only sound that was filling the vicinity was the footsteps of the grouchy, middle-aged female librarian as she made her final rounds, making sure that every corner of the aisle was in order.   You started to gather your things and stuffed it in your trusted purple back pack before she spots you and grumpily shoos you away. Once you finished, you headed out of the library only to be welcomed by an empty hallway. The heavy pit-pattering of the rain was your background music as you dragged your feet to walk.   You were busy drowning out in your thoughts that you almost didn’t notice the slippery sign that was blocking your way. You managed to escape that mini-danger that was awaiting you from making your land squarely flat on the concrete floor.   As you started to get on your feet again, just right after taking a few dragging steps, your tracks were put to a halt as you passed by the Music Room. You took a few steps back just so you were standing exactly right in front of it.   The white-painted door was slightly opened and from it, you heard the beautiful melody that was coming out. You had a vision of the different piano keys swiftly and alternately plucking the strings inside. The sound was so enticing that it lured you to come closer to the door so you could hear the music more and probably get a glimpse of the person that was producing such a lyrical tune.   You managed to peek in through the door and your eyes widened out of amazement to see one of your school’s most prized and treasured achiever, Henry Lau, in his signature red varsity jacket and jeans, sitting in front of the grand piano as his hands worked its way through making the music that you were enjoying at the moment. Though it was only a part of his side profile you could see, you were certain that it’s him.   Both of you were in the same class, World Literature to be exact, but you never got the chance to talk to him as he was sitting one chair away from you. That was the only time for you to see him and after that he’d be gone like a popped bubble.   Not that you have any special feelings for him or anything but you do admit that you think he’s good-looking and at the same time adorable, with the childish vibe that he was sending off. Besides, what’s not to like about him? Not only was he talented and good-looking but he had a good attitude as well.  Despite of him being somewhat superior among the students in your university, he was pretty well-grounded and doesn’t go around bragging about the numerous awards and acknowledgements he’s brought upon the institution.   You busied yourself by surveying his jet black clean cut hair down to every part of his facial features that you didn’t notice yourself leaning against the door, causing it to create a squeaking noise which then interrupted Henry’s playing. Your whole figure was finally revealed at the doorstep, and there you stood frozen, unable to make any kinds of utterances and movements as the fair-skinned, Chinese lad turned around to face his intruder, whom you obviously thought was none other than you.   His small, slanted eyes widened, making it slightly bigger than usual, as he saw your stiffened figure at the door.   Oh God, this is so embarrassing!  You told yourself as you thought of a wise move to make.   “I—I’m sorry. It’s just that I—um…I heard you playing and I…” You trailed off, unable to continue the next things you were supposed to say as you felt that embarrassment was starting to eat you already since you noticed that all Henry could do was give y