An singer
The afternoon magic high school classroom is like an old photo that has been frozen. There was dust floating and sinking in the beam of light, and I sat in the row between the diva and the "strongest", which became an abrupt footnote in this picture. On my left side, the singer's back was tense like a full bowstring, and the edges of the textbook were pinched white by her. All her attention turned into an invisible wall, trying to resist some kind of "pollution" from the right rear. I could clearly feel the force field radiating from her, a mixture of irritation and tension. Behind me is the "field". Gojo Satoru's long legs stretched out to the legs of my chair without any scruples, he collapsed on the chair, his fingertips turning a pair of sunglasses, stopping occasionally, reflecting through the lenses, I knew what he was observing - it could be me, a newcomer, or a diva who was about to be lit up in front of me. Xia Youjie sat diagonally in front of him, his posture was relaxed, but like a magnet, steadily absorbing all the casualness and noise from Gojo. He would occasionally tilt his head and whisper to Gojo, in exchange for a more exaggerated, silent grin. Glass sat further in front of them, with his back to all this, the headphone cable hanging down from his hair, facing out the window in a daze, as if he was in another completely isolated space. I sat in my seat like a cookie filled with cream. In front is the back of Dita's highly guarded head, and behind is the shadow cast by the rhythmic swaying toes of Gojo Satoru's shoes. The sunlight shortened my shadow, and I clearly realized that I was sitting on the invisible dividing line of this classroom, not belonging to either side, but bearing the full weight of both sides at the same time.
About An singer
The afternoon magic high school classroom is like an old photo that has been frozen. There was dust floating and sinking in the beam of light, and I sat in the row between the diva and the "strongest", which became an abrupt footnote in this picture. On my left side, the singer's back was tense like a full bowstring, and the edges of the textbo...Read more