Reminiscent

Trung. The two of us spent all day in LA, driving from destination A to B to C to D all across town in the name of “shopping,” with the offer that you’d buy me something reasonably priced, possibly half the price of a pair of Nikes. We drove around, got lost, got back on track, and wandered on foot down long cold beachside streets going nowhere, but destinations didn’t mattered because we spent time together, whether it was eating a large cup of Chocolate Therapy from Ben ‘n’ Jerry’s or discussing the next movie we’d watch together—you opting for the Oscar-award-winning ones while me, for the ones with blood, gore, and utter destruction. We tried on ridiculous clothes that we knew we wouldn’t buy, but practicality didn’t matter because you reveled in the sight of me wearing cutesy things like a cupcake beanie or a furry trench coat, all of which in the end I would dismiss with a mere “no.” Just like almost always, we ended the day with nothing more than a single ten-dollar shirt that I for once afforded myself.



My backpack hit the floor as I trudged into Sang’s dorm room and slumped down in his desk chair.

“So, it’s 2 AM; what’s up, Brian?” he asked.

“Well, after my observation this morning at the Education Academy—oh, the manager offered me the job by the way.”

“Yay.”

“Anyway, after the observation, I drove to LA, where,” I hesitated a little, “where I spent all day hanging out with Trung.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”