Prologue

He was grey.

I saw him as he walked through the halls, trying to blend into the sea of grey, but they weren't grey. They were the rainbow of colours he didn't see.

He didn't see how amazing his world was, he wanted it to all fade away until someday he left for Harvard.

Before he left he tried to be the most professional highschooler, when the word suggested the complete opposite.

He was perfection among the chaos, but only because he didn't see his own flaws.

I loved him, but not because he was the perfection he made himself out to be.

I loved him for his flaws, and everything that was human about him.

I loved him because he was grey, an imperfect mix of colours, like a toddler who took the paint brush and didn't really know what they were doing but somehow they made him.

He was perfection in an imperfect world.

He was monotone in a world of colour.