He said he didn’t believe in stereotypical movie-like representations of life – where everything is picture-perfect and therefore, realistically unbelievable. He said he didn’t like fake people.
He was an immodest Ivy-Leaguer, a flirtatious doctor-in-making, a compassionate businessman, a preaching philosopher, a money-making humanitarian, a lonely-by-choice traveller, a show-off dancer, pianist, writer and photographer and an unstoppable conversationalist. And he was a tall, handsome, gallant young man with a cheeky sense of humour.
And he didn’t believe in picture-perfectness.
And he didn’t believe in fake people.
And neither do I.