I knew who he was vividly, I knew very well. He was our Head Boy after all, there wasn't a single person at our school who didn't know of him. Milan was pretty famous amongst the girls at our school. He was tall, something above six feet, his face was perfectly proportionate, and his features sang in harmony with each other. His tanned skin, his glossy mullet, the scar on his lip and the thick black-rimmed glasses that he would wear on occasion. They were all the objects of our affection. Not only was he handsome, but he was very involved with our school. He would do his duties as Head boy with enthusiasm and diligence. He was very school-focused. I don't know if this is what the other girls would fawn over, but to me, he was the most attractive in this state. The first time he caught my eye was when I was 15, him being 17; at our school's performing arts festival.Â
It was pitch black in the theatre hall, the only light came from the dimly lit performance that was being put on by our rival house. As the performing arts festival was a house competition, I never really cared for the other houses. The soft light, and the background noise was slowly lulling me to sleep. I leaned over and fell asleep on my friend's shoulder. My nap was interrupted however by a singing voice. I had left my glasses at home that day and couldn't see the stage that well, but I could briefly make out a male figure singing on the stage. The mystery singer's voice was clear and strong, but anyone could tell that it was far from professional and needed to be refined. It sounded pretty damn good admittedly, mainly because it was sung with such confidence. I whispered to my friend, Kay, sitting next to me and asked her "Whose the guy singing that awful melody?".
Kay, who actually had her glasses on, responded with, "Don't be so mean Wrynn, he's trying his best."Â
I snorted at that, "If he can't sing, then he shouldn't have been up there in the first place."
"Well, he's sort of obliged to partake in this, after all he is part of the Student Council". she responded.Â
At this, my eyebrow twitched and rose, when I realised that this voice was actually quite familiar. I let out a soft laugh as I came to the conclusion that it was none other than Milan. Coincidentally enough, dressed like he was in High School Musical, Milan played the brazen love interest of the main character.Â
Our second interaction was by far my favourite one. Our school had a variety of clubs, and strongly encouraged committee culture. When I was 16, I joined a feminist club, and managed to score a committee position as a leader. One of the biggest events of the club was an assembly held to celebrate International Women's Day. It was tradition to have a Head student speak at the assembly, so we sent a request to the four of them in hopes of a reply. Days went by, and we still were yet to receive an answer. We had all expected for one of the two Head girls to offer to speak at the assembly, as that was what the school had accustomed too. The chairperson of our club was distraught, as we neared the assembly, we received no reply, and had no idea whether anyone would be speaking.Â
"What are we going to do Wrynn?" Irvin, our chairwoman, complained to me. To console her, I rushed to get her a bottle of water, from the nearby tap. As I rushed to the tap, clutching the bottle impatiently, a figure stood hunched over the tap drinking from it. I cringed and thought to myself that the least he could do was to fill it into a bottle. As the figure finished drinking and raised his head, my eyes widened to see Milan wiping the water dripping from his mouth. The water must have been cold, as his lips were bright pink and swollen. He looked at me for a few seconds, before he tilted his head and grabbed his phone. Typing slowly, he walked away. I stood there in a daze for a few minutes before remembering the task at hand and filling up the bottle. Once the bottle had been filled, I ran back to the place where I had left Irvin, expecting to see her drowned in tears. Surprisingly, however, she jumped at me and grabbed me by the shoulders, hopping up and down. The confusion must have been apparent on my face because she shoved her phone towards me to show me a text from one of the Head students.Â
A certain Head boy had sent an attachment labelled: International Women's Day Speech.Â
When the assembly day came around, everything was going smoothly. I had previously offered to MC the event and had tied my hair pretty, knowing that I would be speaking in front of the whole school. This wasn't the only thing I had done in preparation, I had also written a few motivational sayings on a bright blue sticky note, so that I would not lose my composure to my anxiety. As the event began, I stuck the sticky note on the podium, with the saying;Â
Things I can't control:
How other people react and think of me
Things I can control:
Putting out my best effort
Trying my hardest
The time came around for me to introduce the Head Boy to speak, and after I called Milan's name, he came forward and took my spot at the podium. As I stepped back to stand behind him, I noticed there was a pause before he began his speech. Bothered by the delay, I tried to catch a glance of what was happening. He was staring at the podium and left out a small laugh into the mic. I wasn't given time to think as he suddenly began his speech.Â
Milan spoke beautifully. He spoke of beautiful things, in the most beautiful way. He spoke of Feminism, he spoke of the need for it in today's society, and he spoke of respect. It was truly worth listening to. I was too awestruck to notice the crowd, but I later on came to know that nearly every student in the crowd looked at him glassy eyed, listening intently. But I guarantee you, there was no one there listening harder than I was.Â
After the assembly ended, my friends flocked towards me. I expected congratulations, or a 'you-did-so-well!", but instead I received "you should try not to look like you fell in love when a guy speaks about feminism." I realised my face must have been on display to the entire school, with the way I watched him unwaveringly. As we cleaned the venue, Irvin and I had to hand out gifts to the speakers. I approached Milan, hoping to thank him for his speech, but for the first time I found myself tongue tied. I quickly handed him the gift bag and whispered 'Thanks'. Before I could run away, he handed me something that looked like a blue piece of paper.
"I should be thanking you, this helped a lot" Milan said while looking at me. He then stuffed his hands in his pockets, grabbed the gift bag and walked out of the hall. I uncrumpled the blue sticky note and looked to see a small line written in red ink towards the bottom:
"Don't be afraid. If you can't control them, they can't control you."