51 SEVENTH STAR

Yibo's fingers on Xiao Zhan's wrist – Yibo would always recognize his own hand, and the thinness of the older man's limbs. A snippet of his walk down the runway of the Luxy fashion show. An image of him with his skateboard, sneakers tricoloured and pressing onto the edge of the board. The remaining sketch was unfinished. Yibo recognized the surroundings of the Koja Complex, the stretch leading up to the entry through the glass doors.

He loved all of them. Yibo loved dancing deep in his core. There was nothing he could and would love more. Art was something he knew existed – paintings, drawings, photography he was well acclimatized to, and appreciative of their talents. He was aware of painters and those who sketched professionally, but he'd never been interested before.