Alan Garcia

The setting sun cast a pink and orange glow over the Los Angeles skyscrapers. Alan’s spacious apartment had a relaxed atmosphere. A low table was decorated with bottles of various drinks and bowls of snacks. Alan, as usual, greeted the arriving guests with ease. First came John, tall and broad-shouldered, with a friendly smile. He was followed by Chris, quiet and observant, Mili, energetic and outgoing, and finally Sarah, with an easy smile. “Hi, everyone!” Alan raised his glass of whiskey. “Glad you could make it. I hope your first day at Stanford wasn’t too terrible?” “Getting lost twice,” John replied, laughing. “And I almost missed my first class,” Chris admitted. “I wrote it all down in my notebook,” Mili said confidently. “I always prepare in advance.” Sarah smiled, shaking her glass of wine. “I was just enjoying the campus atmosphere,” she replied.