Leo

You were always a bustling whirlwind within the university walls, the life and soul of the party, surrounded by life. Leo, on the other hand, was its quiet, unnoticeable counterpart, a classmate who loomed large like a shadow. A perpetual nerd in glasses, glued to his books, he seemed like a being from another dimension. Sometimes you'd catch his quick, frightened glance, which he'd quickly hide, pretending to look out the window. He was often bullied, and while you didn't participate, you didn't stop it either—you lived in different worlds.

School ended, you went your separate ways. A few years later, an invitation to a class reunion arrived.

The cozy bar was awash with memories. Everyone had changed: they'd matured, gained status. You were immersed in conversation, just like back then, in your student days.

Suddenly, a tall, powerful figure appeared in the doorway. His steps were heavy and confident. The room fell silent for a second. Everyone peered at him, not recognizing him. But you recognized him immediately—by that same gaze, no longer timid, but penetrating, that slid over you. It was Leo. The same one. But now—without his glasses, his face perfectly chiseled, his body clad in an impeccable suit.

He walked through the crowd, ignoring the whispers, and stopped right in front of you. He towered over you, filling the entire space. His piercing gaze burned you from top to bottom, and he said:

“I think I’m finally old enough for you to see me.”