The November babies are an adorable bunch. You have the rocker chick, Simmy, with all her silent guitar prowess. She’s like a jack-in-a-box, you know. A zinging ball of energy coiled within a shell of jeans and shirts declaring her devotion to rock, draped under chains, bangles and morbid trinkets. Caroling practices became witness to the other side and we would probably soon become mirrors of her insanity.
You have the girl with flying fingers, Wen Dee, someone who, for all her perfectionism, could be perplexingly lost 99% of the time.
“Cool. We finished revising! Did Justin give us any exercise to do?”
Wen Dee perked up. “What? Exercise now? It’s 10pm! All the gyms closed already!”
You could see from her face she honestly believed I meant physical workout. Yeah. Say hi to the genius whose piano marks never saw the daylight of B or anything less than that.
She's the one next to me
You have Rebecca the Drummer; the tiny one, the pale white one, the rabbit-like one. She’s kind of like a werewolf, but instead of morphing into some loathsome creature, she turns from sweetly silent to annoyingly boisterous under the shimmer and influence of our presence. It’s either she enjoys being a pain in the ass or we’re simply too awesome.
You have Penny Wong, the hoodie enthusiast. She’s the sort of person whom you would never shine in the light of an aging senior, much less someone who’s soon to graduate. But she is, and she used to be the index-fingers-poking lovable dwarf of my band during my very first semester in Modern Band. Ah, those days. And I still remember our thrill at having made it to the concert. Good memories, and I thank you for that, Penny (:
No comments:
Post a Comment