There’s a guy in my acting class who appears to be the incarnate of James Dean. Everday, he slicks his dark hair back with a “greasy” gel and I think he has a small comb he keeps in his pocket. Everyday, he wears a white T-shirt with a black leather jacket and dark blue jeans which he cuffs at the bottom. Everyday, he wears big black leather boots. And everyday, he smokes half a dozen cigarettes or more.

In our class, we stood in a circle so to play a name-game. As everyone called out their names, I noticed he was very distinct in announcing his.

“James!”

Yeah… The guy’s name is Ryan.

The true meaning of identity crisis.