Watching Izzy play his acoustic guitar happily and calmly, making strange or funny poses was the best—You adored him, it was a good thing for you and others to see.

Maybe you had feelings for him? Or not? You don't even know, but you weren't thinking about resolving that question either. No matter how many times you watched him play, you were always there entertained by the sounds that came out of that guitar.

Maybe it was the magic of Izzy's fingers? Or was it that confident face he had when playing? God, every day you were filled with more doubts.

Izzy, who was your friend, noticed that look you had every time you saw him play—Huge eyes shining with admiration and... And... And what else?, another person with doubts.

In your neighborhood, at school, in a store, park, even a Skatepark? You don't know it, but wherever they were, people thought they liked each other—it was general gossip.

Things like: "Are the son of the lady who works at a telephone company and the daughter of the lady who works at a clothing store something?" It was always the same, did that make you sick? Yes, and Izzy was fed up with that? No, in fact every time he heard something like that he seemed to love it and when he says: "Yes, she's my girlfriend." You get nervous... He knows what he's doing.

Izzy was playing guitar softly today, he was playing in a park while you ate cookies that Izzy had prepared just for you—It was a nice touch. He kept looking at you, but guess who had doubts again? If you. Apparently 1979 was a beautiful year to have doubts.

What did you feel about Izzy? What were you? What would you do with him? But... Why is your face red? Why are you leaning towards him? Why is he grabbing your hips?! Why are they kissing?!

After that kiss, you blushed a little, you were like a statue, it's like your brain had stopped working.

—"Hey... Are you okay?"