For the first entire year of knowing him (as college freshmen) I had no idea.  He was an absolute scrub, and only seemed to associate with one girl in our hall.  But after some time, we began to find ourselves stuck in the same circle because of church, and I eventually learned who he "really was" - a rich heir of some movie-worthy impressive parents.  Fluent in French, rubbing elbows with the elite, with the duty of a family business on his shoulders.  Constantly flying off in the middle of the week to take care of said business(es).  Having access to these international events that I'd only ever dreamed about, and was quite disenchanted with the whole thing.  Perhaps his name isn't his real name.  Or is one of his many names.  Who knows?

Yet throughout our four years with our infrequent interactions, I didn't pry.  I just kept on hearing second-hand stories and marveling that such things actually did happen in real life.

Our last one-on-one encounter was at our senior appreciation dinner, where we were seated together.  I tried to make small talk (meanwhile, wondering if my carefully thought-out ensemble was up to his standards... probably not to be honest) and ended up asking what his plans were after graduation.  He said things were already planned out for him - he had to take his position in the business.  Instead of asking about the industry (which I am very much interested in), I asked him what his dream was, otherwise.  His response was one rather different than the work that he had been obliged to do.  It was a dream a lot classier - but still just as real - as any of ours, with the same reservations as to whether it would come true.  I smiled, wishing him luck that he would get to do it one day.