I pulled off the glasses, and ran a hand through the painfully straight hair, messing it up to my usual style. I lifted my eyes to the mirror, studying my reflection. I didn't get it. What was it about me that she didn't like?
Every time. When given a choice between shy James, and confident Josh....she would pick James. I leaned back, loosening the collar of my shirt. At this point, if James and Josh took her on the exact same date and did everything exactly the same; James would win the points with her, while Josh, he would still be seen as a jerk.
What was it about the real me that she didn't like? I grimaced, tucking the glasses into an inner pocket of my bag. Did she not like that I was popular? That I had money? Friends? It was like she couldn't see me past all the fame, really. Didn't girls want a rich guy? Why then did she steadfastly continue to make any encounter between us difficult? I wasn't that difficult of a guy to like. Me acting as James proved that. If only I could show her and prove to her that Josh could be liked as well. If only.
-Inspiration from watching a Bollywood film.
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