If you would've had to describe your dream boy, you would not have even thought about a guy everyone called Ay.
When they told you he liked graffiti and had at least fifty tattoos, you just wondered why they were telling you about him.
But then you met him.
Standing under a bridge, you nearly didn't notice him.
You only noticed the large, red heart on the concrete wall.
Then his pink, fluffy hair.
His clothes, through and through black and ripped.
The tattoos even on his face.
When he asked you what you were doing, you forgot.
Everything.
Then his sister appeared out of nowhere, not even looking at you, the perfect opposite of Ay – and called him August.
Told him to run.
And he turned to you for just a second, threw the spray can on the floor between pieces of concrete, and disappeared.

That was the day you fell in love with August.