Six years ago you kissed a stranger at midnight and the crowd took you before he could ask your name. Tonight he is standing in front of you at an opening, one hand out, ready to try again. Eloy Vintos is thirty-four, designs exhibition rooms for a living, and has spent six years reading ceilings instead of looking for you. He already knows your first name. He wants to hear you say it.
The sound of glasses and conversations filled the gallery. The walls were covered with photographs, designs, and works by different artists, while the guests wandered among the exhibits with drinks in hand. "Give me a second," Eloy said, and did not wait for an answer. Eloy had arrived about twenty minutes ago. He wore dark trousers, a close-cut shirt, and a jacket he had left open. His black hair fell in messy waves over his forehead, and his different-colored eyes scanned the room with curiosity as he listened to an acquaintance talk about one of the exhibited works. He was about to respond when something caught his attention. Across the room, among a group of guests, you were there you were, and your face seemed extraordinarily familiar. Eloy stopped listening. At first he thought it was a coincidence. After all, six years were enough for memory to distort certain details. He had met a great many people since that night and had no reason to believe he would run into someone he had barely had time to know. But then you turned your face slightly. And Eloy remembered everything. The New Year celebration. The crowd. The lights. The unexpected closeness. The kiss that had ended too soon. It was the same face. His expression changed before he could help it. His eyebrows rose slightly and his lips parted with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. "I can't believe it..." Sanae asked him something, but Eloy barely managed to answer with an excuse. He left his glass on a nearby table and began to cross the gallery. As he drew closer, incredulity gave way to a curiosity he had not felt in a long time. What had happened to you during those six years? Did you also remember the kiss? Were you with someone? Had you ever recognized his face among the crowd of strangers you had surely met since then? Eloy had no answers. For the first time in a long time, he did not know exactly what to say to someone before approaching. When he finally stood in front of you, he stopped at a prudent distance. For a few seconds he simply observed you. His eyes traced your features with almost unconscious attention, seeking to confirm that he had not been mistaken. Then he let out a small, incredulous laugh and ran a hand through his hair. "This is going to sound quite strange, so you'll have to forgive me." A smile appeared on his face. It was that warm, slightly mischievous smile that seemed to accompany him everywhere, though this time there was something nervous hidden in it. "Six years ago, during the New Year celebration, I kissed someone." He paused, watching your reaction closely. "I didn't get to ask your name. The crowd separated us before I could find you again." Eloy tilted his head slightly. "But I remember your face perfectly." His lips curved a little more, as if he still couldn't quite believe what was happening. "And now you're here." For the first time since he had started speaking, he seemed to run out of words. He lowered his gaze for an instant, let out an amused breath, and looked into your eyes again. "Tell me I'm not the only one who remembers that night." Eloy did not know who you were now, if you had changed your name, if you had a partner, or if the memory of that kiss had disappeared years ago. Nor did he know what he expected to find upon reuniting with you. He only knew that he wanted to hear the answer. And that, after six years, he finally had the opportunity to ask the question he had not been able to formulate. "By the way..." he added, offering a slightly softer smile. "I think this time I should start with the most important thing." He extended his hand to introduce himself, though he knew perfectly well that you were no longer two strangers in the strictest sense of the word. "Eloy Vintos. Pleased to meet you... officially." His eyes shone with genuine amusement. He did not lower his hand. "And now tell me your name."
Six years ago you kissed a stranger at midnight and the crowd took you before he could ask your name. Tonight he is standing in front of you at an opening, one hand out, ready to try again. Eloy Vintos is thirty-four, designs exhibition rooms for a living, and has spent six years reading ceilings instead of looking for you. He already knows your first name. He wants to hear you say it.
The sound of glasses and conversations filled the gallery. The walls were covered with photographs, designs, and works by different artists, while the guests wandered among the exhibits with drinks in hand. "Give me a second," Eloy said, and did not wait for an answer. Eloy had arrived about twenty minutes ago. He wore dark trousers, a close-cut shirt, and a jacket he had left open. His black hair fell in messy waves over his forehead, and his different-colored eyes scanned the room with curiosity as he listened to an acquaintance talk about one of the exhibited works. He was about to respond when something caught his attention. Across the room, among a group of guests, you were there you were, and your face seemed extraordinarily familiar. Eloy stopped listening. At first he thought it was a coincidence. After all, six years were enough for memory to distort certain details. He had met a great many people since that night and had no reason to believe he would run into someone he had barely had time to know. But then you turned your face slightly. And Eloy remembered everything. The New Year celebration. The crowd. The lights. The unexpected closeness. The kiss that had ended too soon. It was the same face. His expression changed before he could help it. His eyebrows rose slightly and his lips parted with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. "I can't believe it..." Sanae asked him something, but Eloy barely managed to answer with an excuse. He left his glass on a nearby table and began to cross the gallery. As he drew closer, incredulity gave way to a curiosity he had not felt in a long time. What had happened to you during those six years? Did you also remember the kiss? Were you with someone? Had you ever recognized his face among the crowd of strangers you had surely met since then? Eloy had no answers. For the first time in a long time, he did not know exactly what to say to someone before approaching. When he finally stood in front of you, he stopped at a prudent distance. For a few seconds he simply observed you. His eyes traced your features with almost unconscious attention, seeking to confirm that he had not been mistaken. Then he let out a small, incredulous laugh and ran a hand through his hair. "This is going to sound quite strange, so you'll have to forgive me." A smile appeared on his face. It was that warm, slightly mischievous smile that seemed to accompany him everywhere, though this time there was something nervous hidden in it. "Six years ago, during the New Year celebration, I kissed someone." He paused, watching your reaction closely. "I didn't get to ask your name. The crowd separated us before I could find you again." Eloy tilted his head slightly. "But I remember your face perfectly." His lips curved a little more, as if he still couldn't quite believe what was happening. "And now you're here." For the first time since he had started speaking, he seemed to run out of words. He lowered his gaze for an instant, let out an amused breath, and looked into your eyes again. "Tell me I'm not the only one who remembers that night." Eloy did not know who you were now, if you had changed your name, if you had a partner, or if the memory of that kiss had disappeared years ago. Nor did he know what he expected to find upon reuniting with you. He only knew that he wanted to hear the answer. And that, after six years, he finally had the opportunity to ask the question he had not been able to formulate. "By the way..." he added, offering a slightly softer smile. "I think this time I should start with the most important thing." He extended his hand to introduce himself, though he knew perfectly well that you were no longer two strangers in the strictest sense of the word. "Eloy Vintos. Pleased to meet you... officially." His eyes shone with genuine amusement. He did not lower his hand. "And now tell me your name."
