"When you fall in love, you know your life is worth something,” my mother told me in the first grade.

At first, I'd just binge the telenovelas my mother was so fond of. Kisses in the rain, love triangles and rich lovers – everything made sense. Eventually, I began picturing myself in those dreamy scenarios; especially when Valentine's was around the corner. However, "it" didn't come to me. Even back in the day when girls still looked at me without disgust in their eyes. I never felt it about the guys either. One may say I was broken, or just chasing a feeling that didn’t exist. Yet, I never gave up. 

Once, I almost felt "it". I was around fourteen or fifteen, sitting in the back row of our school's gym; waiting for the concert to begin. Lights bounced back and forth, making me squint. I hated it - not only the lights and the music; Lukas, the drummer, too. He'd always call me a pig and would make oinking sounds whenever he saw me eating in the cafeteria. 

However, that evening something had changed. His face, usually frowny and distant, has completely shifted. That night I watched sweat drip down his chin; lips licking the salty residue. It might have been "it"; the feeling that left a faint imprint of excitement mixed with anxiety. 

What I did after the concert, I deeply regretted to this day. 

At least…I didn’t lose hope. I wanted ‘it’

I once again found myself on Mina’s balcony, smoking alone with Dan. The air felt tighter each time I glanced at him—handsome as ever, he was finishing his second cigarette. 

“You've got ashes all over,” he said

Embarrassed, I began sweeping my sweater.

“Not here, silly,” Dan took one step closer and touched my collar, “it kinda looks like snow.”

I froze. It was the same feeling...

Dan’s palm—so warm, so ticklish—moved up my shoulder and caressed my neck. Normally, I would have stepped back or ran away as I always did; yet, not a single self-destructive thought, not a single hesitation pierced my mind. Instead, I took a step forward, closed my eyes, and let my lips meet Dan's. Wet and warm, his tongue tasted of cherries - an odd flavor for someone who always reeked of cigarettes.

Dan didn’t resist. With one hand, he pressed me closer, and let the other wander down until it reached the zipper of my jeans. I was about to copy his movement, but I saw my lighter fall out of his pocket. It hit the floor with a bang; so loud, my chest tightened. The floor below me began cracking into a shape resembling a spider's web. I tried to run, I tried to scream, but I couldn't. The last bang echoed in the balcony and I fell down into the abyss, leaving Dan standing on the ruins of what once was a balcony.

Shit.

I fell out of the bed. Again.

“Woah, you’re ok?” Sam peeked from the kitchen, "Want some pancakes?"

With the taste of cherries still lingering in my mouth, I sluggishly got up and made my bed. Even though I hadn’t seen Dan in a week, he has been a regular in my dreams. Sometimes we’d just walk around the park, other times…

"Pancakes?” repeated Sam

I dragged my feet to the kitchen. Sam was sitting cross-legged by a teeny round table, munching oddly shaped pancakes that were drowning in a red jam. As soon as he saw me, he muttered something (‘smoke’, perhaps?) then jumped on his feet, grabbed the cigarettes, and left in a hurry. Rude. 

Despite his weirdness and lack of intellect, Sam was okay to live with. He did his dishes twice a day and never wore his shoes indoors. As ridiculous as it sounded, there were days when I seriously considered him as my roommate; just the two of us living in this 30-square-meter apartment. Of course, I had bigger goals; eventually, I would have my own place. It would be much larger, so I could host parties and invite Dan. And his friends.

But maybe not today. 

I couldn’t finish the plate of pancakes - cherry jam reminded me of Dan's kiss; and I couldn't let myself daydream, otherwise, I'd screw it up. Tonight I'll see him and Brenton Bandits at the Rooster's. Keep it cool, go for a walk, forget the dreams...

I pushed the half-empty plate aside and began making plans for the day. Only when I got up and felt the fabric of my pajama pants stretch, I realized I had the worst case of morning wood. Damn.

 I didn’t come home- to Sam’s apartment till the evening; I kept on wandering around the neighborhood until six and came back only to get changed. Sam didn’t seem bothered about the morning incident. He kept babbling about the trivia night, even after I locked myself in the bathroom. Perhaps, this morning he didn’t notice…

One good thing about his apartment was the location. We had to cross a graffiti-riddled bridge, pass a few rows of commie blocks and a park, and we’d be at the Rooster’s bar. This evening we walked so fast, that we were the first of Nya Pon Pon’s to arrive.

"Do you think, Mina will invite us over tonight?" I asked.

"Mina...  Did you know we were friends since the kindergarden? She has changed," said Sam leaning against the rocky wall by the Rooster's, "she used to be different. Now she's just... mean." As if I have asked...=

"She was nice. Let's invite them over."  

Sam chuckled. "Wait, you're serious?" he asked.

I didn't answer. I was about to smoke, but I put the cigarette back as soon as I remembered my lighter was with Dan. Irritated, I left Sam and stepped into the bar. Most tables were empty, but the chatter was already building up by the bar. Brenton Bandit's table, was the only one occupied—dressed in a leopart print skirt and a matching shirt there sat Mina. She was crying.