I always thought about snowflakes and how they all can be unique. Their shapes different from one another; even if snow falls from the same sky, they'd all stand out. I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't thrilled with them. But I never did show any excitement -- ever since I was a kid, even mom always pointed out how I'd bore the other kids to death if I was ever in a long conversation with them. Luckily though, she was wrong, I was happy to make at least one. "Desmond Raniel, come down here for a second!" my mother shouted at the top of her lungs. I gazed at the door for a moment to think about how even my room is colored white, it's kinda dawning on me that I only have this one facet of my personality. I swiftly ran down the stairs to go to the kitchen, passing through countless paintings and memorabilias of dead folks that I presume are related to us somehow. I saw Mom at the kitchen, wearing her dark blue apron with her usual indoor dress, her hair tied to a messy bun; she was even sweating profusely. I caught sight of the measuring cups and baking sheets at the counter. "So, Mom, are you baking or something?" I asked out of curiosity. Obviously, I was asking... the obvious, but I just want to show ther a bit of curiosity. She looked at me and wiped her face with a paper towel from the counter. "I'm making cookies for the book club tonight." Her lips curved into a smile; she always did enjoy those weekly book clubs, but it's the first time that their meeting's venue was to happen at our home. "So why did you call me here?" I asked her. "Can you please call in Damian for me? Theodora's not responding to our messages and I'd really appreciate it if I could get a total head count for the preparations," she requested. Mom went back to baking as I immediately held on to my phone. I breezed through my contacts and immediately saw his name: Damian, my best friend, and probably the only kid that I didnt' bore to leaving by now. I should probably work on being more interesting, but what is there to stand out about, right? "Hey, Des? What's up?" he immediately answered. His calm voice always got to my ear smoothly, it was as calm as a flowing river -- and that probably summarizes Damian's personality. He was calm, but also upbeat; he perfectly balanced those facets of his persona. When we were kids, we got chased by a really large dog. While I scrambled about trying to run away, Damian took a branch and hit the dog. I kinda felt bad about it but it was kinda feral so escape was my only concern. He was calm, he was brave, but he was also not that intimidating, given that he joked about the dog 'sticking too close' after we nearly got hurt. "So yeah, the book club's having their weekly book review tonight at our place," I said to him. I heard Damian sigh at the other end. "Your mom's not responding to their messages so my mother's wondering if she could make it tonight. You kow... for the head count." He let a light chuckle out. "Our moms and their book club, huh?" he joked. His voice was cheerful; well, it's Damian, he's always like that. I heard footsteps from the other end, he must've went to his mother. I wonder what book they'll review tonight? Probably the Odyssey if I would take a guess, last time it was the Iliad, so the sequel would make sense, I guess? The heroes in those books are unique, huh? Odysseus probably being the only one with a working logical brain from the greek army, Achilles with his strength, Paris with his wit. These heroes always had something standing out. In the modern day, we often have leading scientists, veterans, speakers, and many more as heroes. I kinda wish I was like them; it's human nature to have delusions of grandeur and dreams of greatness, but I think I won't be near that level anytime soon. I heard footsteps again. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Des. Mom's coming to the book club later; sorry about not responding, her phone broke," he said. "Oh, so we'll meet later. Wanna go to our spot, Dame?" "Oh, I would love to!" His voice is filled with excitement. "See you at 7?" "See you at 7." I hanged up with a smile on my face. It's always nice to have Damian around. I walked towards the kitchen and I immediately noticed the setup in the living room. The black couch seemed to be polished and neat while the large coffee table, which would be full of books usually, was cleared. There were extra chairs in the area. And boy is the house clean; the black furniture really contrasted the white walls in a beautiful manner. Mom really outdid herself today. I already smelled cooked flour and cookie dough -- she could be finished. I entered the kitchen and leaned my back on the pathway. "You're not even excited, huh, Mom?" I sarcastically said. She looked at me, her beautifully round eyes with wrinkes at the end brimming with joy. "This is the first time I'm going to have the book club over, so I'm trying to make an impression," she happily said. She took the baking tray out of the oven and put the cookies on the wire rack for them to cool. "Honey, could you get the mail for me. I forgot to take them earlier," she asked. I just went out to heed her command. The sun is shining brightly; It's four o o' clock in the afternoon. I went straight to the mailbox to check for any parchments or parcels. I heard footsteps again. "Dame! Where are you going?" I asked the approaching man. His gentle and calm eyes always caught my attention, his soft hair. He was always easy on the clothes department, only wearing a shirt and shorts most of the time, even when going to the mall. He immediately gave me a high five. "Dude, I'm just gonna pick up something from the store. Wanna come with me?" he asked. "Sorry, Mom's gonna kill me if I go right now. She might need my help in prepping everything up." I awkwardly smiled at him. He just laughed and placed his hands over my shoulders. "You sure, big guy?" I feel weird right now, we often do these things, but I feel like this is so sudden. "Woah, Damian, don't you have any respect for personal space?" He just gazed into my eyes. He has prominently black eyes, often different from the usual shade. They're not eerily dark but beautifully dark. It's like gazing into the night sky without any stars or the moon reigning over the heavens. "Come on, Damian, we've been friends for ten years, is personal space even an issue now for you?" He laughed again. "Alright. I'm leaving now. See you at 7." He paused for a bit. "At the usual meeting spot." He winked and waved goodbye. I gazed at him walking away, on the pavement. His black apparel somewhat sucking the sunlight in my eyes. How does he even rock that simple outfit? When I wear it I feel like I just woke up from a horrible nap. I went back inside to give the mail to my mom. "So? What did Damian say?" she asked. "What? What about Damian?" "The call, Desmond, the call." "Oh, his mom's coming." My mom just nodded and went straight to her room. I should take a nap, my body's somehow killing me. And I wanna stay up late since the book club lasts till 12. I took my phone to set and alarm and a text from Damian caught my attention. "See you later."

　　... I woke up to the alarm I set. It's already 6:30, huh? I better go down to check on my mother. I walked past the paintings and the memorabilias once again. When I reached downstairs, everything was set up. I eventually went to the bathroom to take a bath. The warm water touched my skin, its cascade relaxed me and allowed me to clear my head. How can water be so amazing? And I'm not. That's just water. Heroes came to mind once again. What do they have? Why are they so good at everything they do while I just do okay. While us common people just do okay. I got dressed and went out. While my feet treaded the pavement, the same thought came to mind. Scientists pushed the frontier of the universe, advocates fought for what is right, musicians moved the world, etc. We all want something to be great; I want to be proud of myself, too. But I don't have anything in me. Why do people I see seem spectacular, while I just belong? I wonder what it's like to be amazing. As I stumbled about the thought, the street lamp glowed and showed my friend, he just stood there while the street light illuminated him and his white shirt. "Hey, Des. Happy you made it."