The white Tower, St Pancrazio, the tallest in the city. We climbed it together, mixed with tourists from the cruise ships, to forget ourselves amidst the sky, in the wind, our shoulders turned to the sea at the horizon. And you made the list of my flaws: idealist without pretensions, vulnerable in affections, hopeless in those memory exercises I stubbornly applied myself to. It still hurts thinking of you explaining how I was "sloppy, rude in my moves and in my language, and with a horrible dressing style". I felt humiliated. I comforted myself with the idea that you took me along because I was the best of my class, the smartest. Within these walls there are still some of those promising young people, now disillusioned with their start-ups – the same that we used to attract with our promises of international glory and money, travel, power. But now it doesn’t matter. You have been seen by someone. Someone whom I am about to meet.