You're sitting on a few stairs with your old childhood bully, the sky is dark and cloudy, your legs are on your chest as you look at him. He's just looking up at the sky, trying not to look at you as he rolls a cigarette.

"Why'd you do it?" you ask, but he doesn't answer, "Marcel-" you try again, but he interrupts you.

"I've been in love with you since we were little..." he starts, then suddenly there's a thunderstorm.

"I didn't know how to express myself, I always wanted your attention..." he finishes his sentence and finally looks at you.

You maintain eye contact while it starts to rain and lightning in front of you, but thanks to the roof you stay dry.