C&C
I’ve met the most intriguing character in my life so far. In a cold August school break, she was (obviously) the only kid with a Hard Rock Café vintage jean jacket while everyone else wore “just fell off bed” looks. I had a panic attack when I saw her. I literally ran away and asked my friend if I looked good because I felt like I was going to meet someone really important in my life. And sweet baby Jesus, I was damn right.
Harry Styles’s messy dirty-looking long hair, brown eyes capable of killing you within seconds, cheaper versions of clothes straight out of a Saint Laurent runaway, infinite knowledge in art, music and movies, a charm that breathes freedom and sex, and a collection of amazing memories at just 20 years old. Our first “date” was in the coolest record store in the city, and we spent the whole afternoon talking about our lives and telling each other things other people took a while to earn our trust to know. She made my heart dance like beats from some Grimes track, and from that day on we lived a romance that any indie rock band would love to write a song about. I’ve never felt more alive. She was everything I could ever desire in a lover.
But, as you can imagine, perfect people doesn’t really exist, like the great poet Hannah Montana has spoken. As I was digging into her soul, I started to discover a completely different person from her outside self, with a lonely, afraid, hopeless, and childish heart. Everything due to a series of traumatic experiences, from a super-abusive childhood, a messed-up family (her mom lives in Canada and her dad barely speaks to her), being in a toxic relationship over a year and heavy drug issues, she was completely lost. She was the one who showed me my favorite book, The Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger, and, for those who have read the book (if you haven’t, please do it, it will change your life!) she totally identified herself with Holden. Within that, she also wanted to be the catcher of everyone she loved, but she was falling and bringing everyone down with her, so she needed her own catcher…me. But the weight was so heavy I couldn’t handle it, and I started going away from her, her gray aura was starting to fill my lungs. As much as I understood her and wanted to help, I couldn’t breathe anymore.
She’s back in my life nowadays. Not as much as she used to, because she’s no good to me (even my mom told me that), but we still have a cosmic feeling for each other, a feeling that everybody around us realized and wish they had in their lives. I look over her whenever I can, always hoping that the girl who hits anyone around her like a hurricane—in a good and bad way—but still has the biggest heart I’ve ever seen uses her heavy past-baggage to go on the adventure of life and finds herself, being truly happy and being her own catcher in the rye. I know she’s a 10 out of 10-star rating, but she doesn’t believe in herself enough to know it yet. —Isabela A.
★★★★★★★★★★
Him
I met him back in sophomore year in high school, he was a senior. We were just acquaintances, maybe friends. I had not foreshadowed how indulging his personality would be for me years later. The way he defies and questions me is like no one else had been brave to before. I had it all worked out, no doubts nor questions until he came along and showed me how faint everything can be and how many sides there is to a story. Fact is that we are not ashamed of admitting our mistakes to each other—something I had never had with someone else. He has taught me to see things far from egocentrism, far from tradition. It is quite strange to me, I must say, how I, being a person never too amiable of a linkage so profound has took part in building a system together. I still have not shown him my most significant scar; however, with him I trust it will no longer be called so, but a quality or characteristic of mine instead. I have also realized how body warmth is someone’s all. When I miss him, I miss his warmth, his breath, his smell. I think to myself, “God allow our seconds to be unhurried and plenty,” and it seems to work, because we talk as if things will remain so for countless days, as if the future is an on-going present, and I am OK with this. I feel not confined but willing. We keep a promise to call whenever our retainer falls, whatever time passes until this happens. I came up with it, just so I would be sure that we will hear from each other again, no matter what. At this stage of thriving, I am glad to have chosen such one who in his all I see still a full beauty, flaws and all. And to have been chosen by one who despite all, is full in disposition to lead me face to face to all I fear, only to make me victorious where I once used to fall inadequate at. This charm so potent cannot be blamed on craft but only upon love. —Adriana G.
★★★★★
Sophia
She used to sit across the table from me in art class. The only other try-hard goth in school, we spoke only briefly, not really bonding, just making small talk. Having finished serving our time in that dull hole, we moved on with life.
Years later we bumped into each other in London’s goth haven, Camden. Both in the throws of metal-babe phases, we were drooling over the same black steel-toe heals, complete with studs, spikes and flames. So badass. Occasionally we went to local punk and metal shows together, not really out of full friendship yet, but out of not having anyone else to go with. Basically no one we knew had decent music taste.
All of a sudden, I experienced loss for the first time; my world turned strange and dark as I questioned everything and began to crumble inward. And there she was, this girl I had known but not-really-known, meeting me every day, for months. Listening to me, caring for me, taking me on adventures to the English seaside, buying me the best slices of vegan cake, all-around comforting me. This would be the real beginning of our connection; in those cold months she would become my source of sanity, my home-girl, and my partner in crime.
Over the years she had gone from “cool girl I spotted in school hallway,” to acquaintance, to friend, to soul sister. I could never imagine my life without her. She is always there to love and support me, even now that we are a world apart, her in the U.K., me in America, both trying to be adults, and I will always thank her for those memories and for the lifelong sisterhood ahead of us. —Jannine B.
★★★★★
Shelsea
I found a gallery in Chinatown, so my friend and decided to go. After getting lost we finally found the place. As we walked closer, we saw a sign that said “out 2 lunch brb.” I started to worry. What if we had to wait a lot? I didn’t want to disappoint my friend. I promised her we’d see a lot of art that day. We saw a girl and guy with Chinese takeout saying, “Are you from online?!” I explained that I had found out about the art show online, so it did mean I was from online. We looked at the neon geometric shapes hung throughout the gallery. The gallery owner, Shelsea, quickly engaged us in conversation. She was one of the nicest people ever. Not only was she super cool but also funny. She mocked the other gallery owners. She said that it’s better to approach art lovers since, after all, they are visiting her art gallery. She only took in the work of female artists, and because we don’t see many around here, it was a far out thing of her to do so. Shelsea quickly asked us if she could take a picture of our outfits, as we cooly posed in front of one of the neon signs. Honestly, getting appreciated for an outfit means a lot to me, especially because I did try that day. She took out her glitter phone, I slipped on my facial mask and my friend Maya did the praying Lil B pose. She asked what the facial mask was for. I just said, “There was too much smog in town, plus we took the train, and it has germs so…” She replied with, “I love it! Plus you guys are wearing similar shoes, wow! We talked about how ’90s trends are in and how we both want to buy back our childhood toys online. She’s selling a bunch of butterfly clips because they’re coming back along with other ’90s trends. I totally knew what she was saying because a lot of ’90s/2000s trends have been missed. I almost didn’t want to leave. I felt like I had known her all my life. The owner told us about the next art show. My friend and I know we’ll come back in the future. Shelsea: I may have just met you, but I want to be your best friend! I give you four out of five stars for giving other female artists the space to showcase their hard work. Thanks. Stay cool. —Tiffany, 18, California
★★★★
David Bowie
I want to take a moment and write a little about a man who inspired me. Yeah, you guessed it, David Bowie. I don’t remember when I first started liking this mystical spaceman; it’s as though he was sewn into my life. Looking back, I’ve always loved him. His kind words and “outlandish” appearance comforted me in so many ways, especially because when I was a kid I literally never fit in. He taught me that, as someone who’s different, that I wasn’t as insignificant as I thought I was. In fact, he made me feel like I was someone to be valued because I wasn’t like other kids. To me, Bowie was a major staple in my childhood; he was someone I had learned to depend on for comfort because he was always there when other people weren’t. He changed my life forever. He was a mover, a changer, someone who became whatever he wanted to be. He made me feel like there was something more than my painful adolescence and brought star light into my life. He taught me to embrace me, and inspired me in my musical/artistic endeavors. He made me see that my there will always be an opportunity for me to be more than human, more than mundane. I grew up knowing I have the potential to make myself happy, by empowering me to create things and be that rock star I know I am. Because of him, I have gained a deeper understanding/appreciation for life. He will always have my heart. I obvi give him 100 stars out of five. —Beth E.
★★★★★★ × 20
HER
I was going to my friend’s house for her birthday party. When I arrived at her house on that day, I realized I was going to love it. There was a rustic feel to the house—an antique-looking floral couch stood on the porch. I stood in awe, clutching my gift as if it were keeping me from falling into the depths of my dream house. I knocked on the door and was greeted. What happened next was the usual birthday party meet-routine. Then I saw HER. Thin limbs met body, a body topped with a head, and a head with a face. What a face! Her eyeliner sharp and dark, crowning lovely eyelashes and pale cloud eyes. Lips a deep scarlet red so well done like it was taken directly from the petals of a rose. Later through the party (we were at this bowling alley that smelled faintly of cheese and only played the Top 40s from 2011) I began talking to her and she became more and more amazing. She had a Tumblr and we exchanged usernames and I immediately regretted it. My bio was sloppy and immature and in all caps. But she didn’t mind albeit she probably was judging me. When the party came to a close and we had returned back to my friend’s house, as I saw my mom’s car roll up to the curb I bid my goodbyes and left. Leaving partly unsatisfied because maybe I could’ve gotten to know her more. —Abigail L., 14
★★★★★
Unnamed Human
I have known him since sophomore year. Somehow, I have seen new places and new depths in him this last year of high school. His eyes are fireworks to my soul. He could look at me from across the room and somehow I feel his passion. His smile is a pacifier for my temperament. When I become enraged about something and I see his grin, it prompts me to collect myself and take a breath. He was the first person in school that I’d opened up to about my difficult life at home. He made me and still makes me feel safe and secure. He has been there when guys have lied to me and made me cry. He has signed me up to watch musical theater shows without my consent because he knows I’d never say yes to a spontaneous event. He walks with me to interviews to keep me calm and remind me that I am more than enough. He makes the corniest jokes because he knows they’re my favorite. It’s absolutely ironic, how we seem to be perfect for each other, to other, but to us our individuality makes us stronger. I give this unnamed human being a 4.5 stars because he’s a really great friend but if he ever read this his head might become too big for me to handle. —Chassidy D., 17
★★★★1/2