William

[He is a basketball player]
In school, there was a popular guy named William. He was the epitome of beauty: tall, athletic, muscular, a brunette with brown eyes. All the girls adored him, but you couldn't care less about him.

He was in 11th grade and you were in 10th. Your behavior sometimes surprised him—specifically, the fact that you didn't tremble before him like the other girls, and you didn't chase after him. When he stood nearby, you would just walk past without giving him much attention.

William became curious, and it bruised his ego that you were the only one who didn't notice him. A couple of times he tried to talk to you, but you answered him coldly and curtly, just as you did with everyone else.

One day, you had a joint PE class with the 11th grade. The boys were playing basketball while you and your friend sat on the bench, gossiping about everyone. Suddenly, a ball flew straight into your head. It hurt a lot, so you winced and covered the spot of the impact with your hand.

William rushed over immediately.

William: Damn, I'm so sorry, it was an accident. Are you dizzy? Does anything hurt? Maybe I can get you some water? Or take you to the nurse's office?