Looking Through the Mirror

On March 2018, 3, at 15:19 local time, the young frontman of the band sat in the basement of an empty bar and lit his first cigarette.The dim light of the chandelier circled his head in a white glow, and the strands of hair that had been highlighted were as dazzling as the golden ink on the loose-leaf paper.

Two minutes later, the pre-set alarm suddenly sounded, startling him. The precarious cigarette ash trembled slightly, brushed his fingers, and then fell vertically on the last letter of the ill-formed "ice" character. Press down.

His writing is always dragged on for a long time, but the hooks are written with iron and silver hooks, just like the man, who looks sticky on the surface, easy to talk and has no temper, but in fact he acts crisply and neatly, never dragging his feet.

Burned by the burning ash, Young Master Kaiming came back to his senses, but he just breathed in casually, picked up the loose-leaf paper and dusted it casually, the extinguished things stuck to his fingertips, followed his movements A thick and colorful stroke was left on the paper, covering up the last line of words, and the only few words left in the fruit are a bit inexplicable for an important person to read.

He didn't write the lyrics according to the original plan, he just murmured gibberish one sentence at a time.On the paper is the content of a love letter many years ago, I probably don't remember it well, there are a few obvious pauses and smears.

——"When I got up, there were two lines of tears hanging on my face. Did I shed them for others or for myself? I have to ask others. But at this time, except for the cold moon in the middle of the sky, there is no proof people."

Young master Kaiming pushed himself down by the edge of the high stool, and the slender and pitiful lined paper trembled in the air.He leaned on the bar counter and raised his head, reading out word by word under the glare of the light.

—— "I want to wash my hands in your eyes, and rub your eyes, it's too cold."

During the silence, the door to the basement was knocked three times, neither more nor less.Someone pushed the door and walked in. A golden lion with the same color as the eyes was embroidered on the front of the black hooded sweater.Lips as thin as a knife, eyebrows and eyes as sharp as a sharp sword, he walked down unhurriedly, and suddenly stopped when there were a few steps left from the ground, looked down at the person sitting in front of the bar, and asked: " Is something wrong?"

The person's tone and expression were as indifferent, but the young master seemed to be open-minded but didn't care at all. He stood up and walked towards the door. He took out a stack of tickets from the pocket of his jacket and stuffed it into the other person's neckline.He is not too tall, and he is half a head shorter than the other party in Martin boots. At this time, he tiptoed slightly and put it next to the young man's ear, and said with a smile: "We have a concert this weekend, and it's in this bar. Tickets I will see you off, but I must come, otherwise..."

The young man lowered his voice and asked him, "Otherwise?"

"Otherwise, I'll have to leave you in the bar, lock you up on a stool in the basement, and cry for you."

There was a wind blowing in from outside the door, and the manuscript papers on the bar counter were scattered like snowflakes. The young man bent down and picked up a sheet.

——"If your eyes are so cold, someone's heart will freeze under your gaze."

The author has something to say:

A sudden brain hole.

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