My heart is beating in an irrational manner, I suppose if someone were to sit next to me, they could hear it beating fast. It’s all because of this damn thing.

 

More than a week ago, Minho asked me to accompany him to go to a music festival in a beach about 45 minutes bus ride from the neighbourhood. I’d been meaning to go there with my schoolmates initially, so I hesitated a bit, before then I finally agreed to go with him since none of my friends were responsive whether to go or not. The thought didn’t sink in for a few days after that, when one of my friends in the dance class teased me by saying that I was going to go on a date with Minho. Apparently, he is a quite close friend of Minho and he just knew it straight from the person.

 

Then this incident makes me question: Is this supposed to be a date? Did Minho tell his friends that he’s going on a date with me?

 

That thought alone makes me blush. So, when he is coming through the crowd with that messy hair of his, white simple tee, light washed jeans and his basic pair of khaki timberlands; I swear to life that this face is getting even redder.

 

His face lights up when our eyes meet. He then walks fast to come to me who’s leaning swiftly towards the brick wall of a café. “Hey, you’re early.” He says, sighing, as if he is disappointed that he has been beaten by me to be the first one to come.

 

I see beads of sweats forming through his forehead, a little confused as it’s not too hot for the day. “Did you run?”

 

He just giggles, while trying to catch his breath. “I want to be here as early as possible to meet you.” He just grins mischievously. He knows exactly what he does to me with his every word.

 

“S-shut up.” I reply blandly, trying hard not to stutter in which it fails miserably.

 

He just continues giggling before he then asks. “Are you ready to go?”

 

There he goes again, offering his hand for me to hold. I absolutely hate him for making me all flustered, and it’s all showing in my whole blushing face. I just reply with a nod as I take his hand anyway.

 

We walk together to the beach. He talks a lot, being the usual chatty Minho. He just asks me how school was for the week, he asks if I’ve eaten, and for the rest of the time, he then keeps talking about being excited about the music festival, since apparently there’s this boy group that he’s been anticipating seeing. It’s a short walk, but I feel delighted already.

 

“Wow, it’s packed.” He immediately says as we’ve arrived, we both are sitting in one of the seats available.

 

The place surely is packed. The main stage is about 100 m afar and the show won’t start for another two hours, but from here, many people are already wandering around, mostly are just getting snacks from the food tenants available.

 

He sits for a little while before saying, “By the way, wait here, I’m getting you something to eat.”

 

“Okay.” I reply shortly.

 

He then leaves me behind as he walks to the many food tenants. He returns in less than ten minutes, bringing two hot dogs, and two cups of coffee. He didn’t even ask what I wanted but I love how we share the same likings on coffee, because I can drink it almost at any hour.

 

And he doesn’t forget one huge candyfloss shaped like a duck in which he struggles on bringing.

 

“Now you eat!” he says excitedly as he also eats his own food after sitting on the seat across me and putting the food all on the table. The candyfloss is put nicely on the empty leftover seat.

 

I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion before taking a bite of my own food. “What’s with this candyfloss?” I am confused, but I can’t help but to giggle at his abruptness of buying this cute candyfloss.

 

“I don’t know,” he replies in between his munches. “It just reminds me of you.”

 

“What? You think I look like a duck?”

 

“Maybe I do.” He chuckles, in which resulting in me hitting his shoulder playfully. “This is abuse!” he immediately complains.

 

“You’re really weird,” I shake my head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just said that I look like a duck.”

 

“I’m joking, but it really reminds me of you, though.” He takes a sip of his coffee.

 

“What?”

 

“Because it’s sweet and you’re sweet?” He stares at me sharply while grinning, showing those perfectly lined teeth of his.

 

My heart is about to drop with his words. There again. He knows exactly how I would react every damn time he’s being like this, and I know for sure that he’s liking this sight of me being all flustered.

 

Before I could react he then responds once again. “You’re really adorable when you blush like that.” He just smiles.

 

I just smile awkwardly back at him, only to realize that he’s just the same flushing red like me. He’s just the same.

 

We then just spend the next hour waiting for the show to start while chattering with utter nonsense, like how we are used to do. After finishing our meal, we go closer to the stage to secure our standing spot so that we can get a decent look of the whole music festival.

 

When it finally is about to start, he starts putting his arms around my shoulder protectively as it’s a quite crowded place, and I get more flustered. I notice that there are a lot of couple who dot the same thing as we do, and it just makes me more embarrassed. He sees how flustered I’ve become, and he just laughs it off. “Hey, I’m stopping you from disappearing!” He says, insisting.

 

It is dawn and the sun has fully set, it’s quite dark to see around. But then the lightings suddenly illuminate the stage in the beautiful peach hue. The music starts and the lighting on the stage points to one male solo singer, sitting in the middle with a guitar in hand. The crowd cheers, as the singer begins singing a soft ballad.

 

The music festival is quite an experience. I get to see a lot of singers in all genres, from ballad, rock, R&B, alternative, and so on. There are also various types of performers, like they can go solo, duo, or even a group. I feel so delighted to see the environment around, how all the audiences are jamming together to the music, despite not knowing some of the songs. The audiences act respectfully, there’s no excessive pushing and I guess therefore we all can enjoy the togetherness to have fun.

 

While I am basically a newbie, Minho’s knowledge in all these singers are broad. When he noticed that I didn’t know some of the singers, he gladly explained a brief introduction of the singer and the song itself. I didn’t ask, but he just knew; and I feel so touched at him noticing little things like this. Perhaps I wasn’t too focused on what he explained, because I was also mesmerized by him. Although I feel Minho’s embrace around me the entire time, I notice how he’s just so focused on every of the performance with such an admiring gaze. He looks happy with this whole thing going on, I think I’ve never seen him this happier. He really was true to himself that he wanted to continue professionally to be a performer of some sort.

 

The show is nearing to the end, until then it’s finally announced that there’s this one group that seems to be the most famous one amongst the other performers, since the crowd cheers into a crazy noise.

 

“Ah.” He sighs softly as the music drops down to a techno-like beat, and his lips then form a wide smile. I guess this is the group he’s been talking about since the last time we decided to go the festival together, the group which he says to be the best one he’s ever witnessed in his whole life.

 

I stare at him again to be hypnotized by his longing, loving stare. I don’t even once focus to the dance group on the stage. I stare at him in fascination to cherish how his soft his eyes are from staring at his favourite group with his long lashes, how his smile grows subtly at every of the group’s point dance move, and how he softly mumbles that he dreams of being like them some day. Even when the group has gone off the stage and the festival is practically done, he still stares longingly at the stage, not even once looking somewhere else.

 

When he notices minutes later that I’m staring at him, he just bursts into the sweetest rounds of giggles. He thinks I’m funny for staring, and he says that I’m drooling over him. Maybe I do. But perhaps it’s because I’ve come to the realization that the most beautiful person isn’t the most sculpture-like. Maybe they don’t have wings like angels do. Maybe they look just like us.  Maybe it’s when they’re being mesmerized with the thing that they love the most, just like what Minho was doing the entire time.

 

That night, I think I found an angel.