My date, Maggie Cheung.

When I was a child, who didn't have one or two friends?

When I met Maggie Cheung, I was six and she was eight. She is a classmate in grade one. Like all other children of this age, we can build an indestructible revolutionary friendship because of a broken rubber.

My friendship with her comes from a broken ruler. The best brand at that time was Blue Cat. My ruler not only drew the naughty influence of the blue cat, but also drew a straight line on the upper edge and a wavy line on the lower edge, which was a top-grade high-grade goods at that time. I pressed this ruler under the foot of the table and broke a piece for her. Since then, we have become the best friends of Class One every year.

Like all good friends, we go to the toilet hand in hand, go to the water room hand in hand, do morning exercises hand in hand, and secretly laugh behind the teacher's back when doing exercises.

Such two people are best friends.

At the end of the third grade, I transferred to another school.

At that time, Maggie Cheung dyed tacky red nails and cried with my little head in her arms. Her nails were dyed with a one-yuan highlighter at the school gate. When she wiped her tears carelessly, she accidentally wiped her face. I looked at her little face one by one and smiled with tears in my eyes.

We agreed to meet in junior high school.

At that time, we didn't understand that saying goodbye is not necessarily goodbye.

I have new friends in my new school.

I still hear from Maggie Cheung occasionally. For example, she fainted when she was punished for not handing in her homework. For example, she didn't listen to the story, and the bottom of the water-based pen sucked hard and got a mouthful of ink. For example, she suddenly dropped out of school in the fifth grade. ...

Maggie Cheung became an old friend in the news. I wrote to her, but I didn't reply.

I think there are not enough stamps.

I lost her like this.

Growing up is a fast and cruel thing. In the process of slowly accepting everything I don't understand and turning it into common sense, I will lose more than just a Maggie Cheung.

I didn't know about it until now.

The next day.

On a crowded bus.

I stood very close to the boy I like, and turned my head away, so that the ends of my hair could rub his shirt buttons. I approached him carefully and listened to him talk to me, and I was secretly glad.

If there were more people and the carriages were crowded, maybe we could hide in his arms aboveboard.

Students' feelings often begin with white shirts and skirts fluttering in the breeze.

I looked at the boy and felt him shining in the crowd in the sun.

Brake hard.

I lost my foothold and fell into the boy's arms, slightly and intentionally.

He also lost his footing, took a step back and bumped into another girl.

A woman with yellow hair.

At that time, I was an honor student, a treasure in the teacher's hand, an obedient treasure, and so was he. We met a bad girl with yellow hair, and our hearts kept shaking.

"I x! You blind people! I ... Lin Ming? Lin Ming! Is that you? "

It's me, Maggie.

Three people crowded on a park bench, and the scenery was very strange.

In particular, the boy sat on the side with an indifferent face, and two girls hugged each other, one wearing a school uniform and the other wearing a halter top and a miniskirt. Golden phoenix is tattooed on the back of a backless girl, and she wears heavy makeup to publicize the demon charm.

At that time, I thought Maggie Cheung was really beautiful.

This is a heartfelt compliment, with the shallowness of the student era and the rebellion of the girlhood.

"Lin Ming, what are you reading! Is the grade still very good? "

"My grades are good too, but I won't go to school!"

"I am now the chief dancer of Paramount. Remember to come and play with me! "

"As long as you sign up for me, it's my treat!"

"When I dance, the phoenix on my back will be as beautiful as flying!"

"They all say I'm beautiful!"

I just looked at Maggie with a smile, and I nodded hard every time she said anything. I miss her so much that I finally met her, although she described the world and life I couldn't imagine and said something I didn't understand. But I'm afraid that if I don't try hard to nod, or if I don't try hard enough, I will lose this friend who originally defined a good friend again.

The world mentioned by Maggie Cheung has nothing to do with me. I'm a little curious, with infinite brain holes and rich imagination.

Therefore, I quickly imagined what Maggie Cheung's world was like like like a duck to water.

I quarreled with my favorite boy that afternoon, and I was angry about skipping class.

Obviously, it is the first time to do something that I have always despised, but there is no fear or guilt. I turned and walked out of the classroom, climbed over the wall from the back door of the school, and then excitedly walked into the world of Maggie Cheung.

Playing truant is like drugs. Once in contact, it will be addictive.

But you can stop playing truant and taking drugs.

It was also in that ballroom that I first saw drugs.

The most popular pill at that time was called "ecstasy", which was packed in colorful candy paper. One by one, I like this beautiful and cheap package, which can reflect colorful rainbows under the light, and I also like the strange lighting effect in the ballroom.

I usually sit quietly in the corner, fold the "candy paper" I secretly picked up into a small paper crane and secretly put it in a large uniform pocket. When the number of guests began to increase gradually, I slipped out without saying hello to Maggie Cheung, pretending that I had just come home from school to do my homework.

I put these little paper cranes in glass bottles, and when I collect them at 1000, I will take them as a reconciliation gift and apologize to the boy I like.

Because in addition to reflecting the color of the rainbow, these lovely "sweets" have a romantic name.

Maggie Cheung and her new friends call this candy "Rose".

A rose is a flower that looks like a rose.

I like Shakespeare. I like roses that can't be called roses.

Zhang Manqi's friend wears a heavy powder, and when she passes by, she will get a mixed smell of inferior tobacco and cheap perfume. They often give me a glass of orange juice mixed with alcohol, and sometimes they ask me if I want to try rose candy.

I really want to try it. In my imagination, roses should have the taste of love.

Every time a woman with heavy makeup asks me if I want to eat candy, there are always more women screaming loudly and crazily. I hate such laughter. I don't understand Maggie Cheung's concern about frowning slightly and shaking his head.

I always shake my head and don't touch that colorful drink or those beautiful colored sweets.

I know in my heart that if I do this, Maggie Cheung will be unhappy.

I can't make her unhappy.

Besides, this is her world.

Now that I think about it, Maggie Cheung is caring about me and trying to protect me from what she has done.

I always choose a sunny afternoon to go there.

However, the ballroom will never see the light. Heavy velvet curtains have been covering the large glass windows, except for a few lamps that are not bright enough. Those thin and tired young girls swear like women in their forties. Wear slippers with heels, loose halter tops, bare body, bare breasts or half ass, and kick and walk in an unopened ballroom.

Every time he goes, Maggie Cheung will climb the steel pipe in the center of the stage and linger slowly. I don't think this is an art, but I always praise it loudly, saying that Maggie Cheung on the stage is beautiful.

When Maggie Cheung and Steel Pipe are enthusiastic enough, they will come over, drink orange juice prepared by other girls, light a cigarette, and listen to me talk about those pink girlish feelings and trivial students' homework.

Maggie Cheung prefers bright red nail polish. A thin gold thread was tattooed on her wrist, which she said was a phoenix feather.

After drinking orange juice, Maggie Cheung's eyes will become brighter, but she never gives me more feedback, gives me any suggestions or offers any solutions that can help me solve my problems. She just listened quietly, mocking my childish romance appropriately. Before leaving her seat, she told me that if I was tired of playing, I would leave by myself. Every time, she stressed that I should never touch those beautiful alcohol and tasteless candy.

And I will carefully tell her that I like the short skirt or high heels she wears today, and I will always miss her, so I will come to see her next time.

Then hug carefully and gently.

I don't like touching the tattoo on her back. It was a scarred skin, as if Maggie Cheung had come here through thorns.

After the homework became heavier, when "Paper Crane" stopped at the 822nd place, my psychic boy chose a girl with average grades but outstanding beauty as his girlfriend, and although I had a beautiful report card as a shield in front of the teacher, I didn't have a beautiful face as a pass for youthful love.

The days have been repeating, there is no freshness, and there is no new adventure that interests me.

The only change is that it has quietly touched the adolescence of every teenager, making every child who is not sensible start to move, hoping to grow up overnight.

The boys in the class slowly get together to secretly watch MP4, and then burst into laughter or banter, making the girls next to them blush.

At that time, I didn't understand the meaning behind these changes in hindsight. It wasn't until the boy I like took me as a bosom friend with an ambiguous smile and secretly shared with himself the ambiguous bare shoulder photos sent to him by his girlfriend when she was questioned by her junior, that I was surprised at what kind of feast a woman's naked skin would be in men's eyes. I thought of Maggie Cheung's neck, Maggie Cheung's back, Maggie Cheung's arm and Maggie Cheung's thigh.

I skipped class again that day to see Maggie Cheung. That was the first time I took off my ugly school uniform coat before I entered the door.

This is also the first time for me to stay from work until evening.

I was obedient. I didn't touch the orange juice they left on the bar, and I didn't try the lovely candy called "Rose". After business hours, they have no time to tease a junior high school girl. On the stage, on the wine table and on the crowded dance floor, they tried to scream and laugh, scream loudly, twist their joints, chase lights and men's wallets.

Zhang Manqi stood in the center of the stage, holding a steel pipe in her hand and shaking slowly. Under the dazzling light, the phoenix on her back really seems to fly.

So many people's nightlife is like this. These well-dressed people seem to have read many books. Of course, there are also some men who have never read a book at first sight. They all use the same posture to unbutton their ties and shirt collars, hug young girls with cheap powder, drink and dance, and then take off their only or only piece of cloth.

People you know will tacitly pretend to be strangers.

Seeing two people passing by, the corners of the mouth raised a greeting and a clear arc.

It's not that I didn't notice this man who approached me a little bit, but I didn't realize the danger at that time.

The bar is very long and the lights are brighter than anywhere else. Few people want to expose themselves to the brightest light in the whole ballroom. So I stand out when I'm alone. The pink light shines on my neck, and the black organza underwear belt with bow at the back of my neck looks like a beginner.

That man has a crush on me who smells like a virgin. He moved his bloated body and sat down in the chair next to him. He pushed me a small pile of cash.

I looked at the cash beside the glass and continued to fold the paper cranes in my hands, with an indifferent expression.

1 of "pa" gently, the sound of banknotes colliding.

I know men spend a lot of money, but I don't know it's overweight, and I don't know that the money will be used to buy my first night.

After the fourth fare increase, the man put his hand on my shoulder and I screamed with fear.

The air suddenly quieted down, and soon the noise resumed, as if it was just BGM's careless cassette.

"You mean, a virgin go out to sell, it is not a bitch? Isn't this money enough for me to touch you? "

I felt the ridicule, indifference and contempt around me, and I shed tears helplessly in these distant eyes.

Nobody came out to protect her. A little girl who has no interest in herself has nothing to do with herself, and no one is willing to take the initiative to get involved in this muddy water in a place like this, no matter whether she is rich or powerful.

Except Maggie Cheung.

Maggie Cheung rushed down from the stage and stood in front of me through the crowd.

"Boss, don't be angry. This girl is here to play, not with us. I will be happy with you tonight, and you will let her go. I'm not worse than her, am I? "

That night, Maggie Cheung was wearing thin underwear, revealing a slender waist without any profit, twisting against the man like a snake drinking realgar wine, and his lips were slightly parted.

Through tears, I looked at the transaction in front of me, obviously grateful to my good friend who stepped forward, but staring at the dancing phoenix behind her, I felt a little sick.

"I asked my little sister to propose a toast to the boss to apologize, so please let her go."

Maggie Cheung handed me a pleading look, but I pretended not to see it and turned and left the Paramount Ballroom.

I think Maggie Cheung is disgusting for the first time.

I have never been to her house again.

I took off my underwear belt that imitated Maggie Cheung's dress style and put on a shoulder strap. When I see the boy I like and his girlfriend at school, I will think that she is wrapped around him like a snake in her thin underwear.

I don't care about losing such a friend anymore. I have many innocent friends with excellent grades. I don't want to think about Maggie Cheung and golden phoenix embedded in the skin scar on her back.

Like it never happened.

I'm still a teacher who can't help me, high flyers, and I've stopped skipping classes and rarely climbed over the wall to get in and out of the campus. Later, I learned that roses are more addictive. This is from my father's friend who works in the public security bureau.

Before the police could close the net, the Paramount ballroom was burned to ashes by an unprovoked fire on an ordinary night. No one knows the exact number of casualties because no one knows who went in and who came out.

I heard that the fire broke out at Paramount Gate in the early hours of the morning. Gorgeous flames extended their charming tentacles into the dark night curtain, illuminating half the town. I guess the fire should be the same color as those scarlet velvet curtains in Paramount, with decadent publicity and charming despair, burning the night party into a crackling sound.

I don't know whether Maggie Cheung has left the fire. As an initial friend, Maggie Cheung gave me all the tenderness, but in the end I never knew where she was going.

Probably dead. I refuse to admit it. In fact, in my heart, I'd rather Maggie Cheung died than she was still doing some dirty work to get by.

I don't think about Maggie Cheung anymore.

However, every Valentine's Day, I will see roses sold in the name of roses in red plastic buckets, and I will think of colorful pills wrapped in rainbow candy paper, the sparkling orange wine, and golden phoenix on Maggie Cheung's back.

What happened to Maggie Cheung?

Actually, I think about it occasionally.

I left this town before I was an adult, taking the boy I wanted. I don't know how many exes that beautiful girlfriend has become before me, and I never ask.

I put the ring on the ring finger of my left hand, and the name of my fiance and the name of the boy I like are engraved on the inner ring.

I finally want to stand in the middle of the auditorium with my favorite boy in white gauze. Before the wedding, I took my maid of honor to the best beauty salon in town. I was lying in the beauty bed, chatting with my working sister who kept nagging about selling products. The young lady at work said that their former best beautician suddenly left to take her place. She said that the beautician's name was Kiki, and she had a beautiful golden tattoo on her wrist.

My sister at work spoke contemptuously of Kiki, saying that Kiki had an ugly burn on her arm. I don't know if it was a "badge" burned by cigarette butts when I was doing secret service.

This Kiki is Maggie Cheung.

I already know.

I also know that she curled her customers' hair at the barber shop where I often went, and later she was fired because she was impatient.

I don't know where she went later.

I never thought about looking for her either. I think we will meet again sooner or later, in the car.