As soon as Chen Yaoyi stepped back into the office, everyone turned and laughed at him. Someone called out, “Chen Yaoyi! You went and stole the female lead again!”
He didn’t answer—just dove straight into a flurry of frantic keystrokes on his computer.
They deliberately raised their voices again: “Your mission this time totally failed!”
Chen Yaoyi’s eyes widened. “You don’t get it! It was an accident! How was I supposed to know *she’d* end up liking *me*? And besides—that male lead wasn’t exactly a saint either!”
“Don’t get it? Weren’t your last few missions just like this?”
Chen Yaoyi’s face flushed crimson, veins popping on his forehead as he sputtered, “None of you understand! Next time! Next time I’ll do it right!” Laughter erupted around him, filling the office inside and out with cheerful, teasing energy.
XxxxxX
Ring ring ring—ring ring ring—
May lifted her arm and gently tapped the phone screen. The alarm kept blaring. Only then did she realize—she’d tapped the phone case.
She flipped it over, silenced the alarm, and stared blankly at 6:30 AM glowing on the display.
This early alarm had been set for *him*—to meet him, to have time to get ready beforehand, to always show up at her very best.
But not anymore. The quiet truth settled in: her heart no longer fluttered for him.
Fingerprint unlock. Swipe down the notification panel. Tap Clock. Open Alarms.
[6:30 AM Wake Up Early]
[Delete this alarm?]
[Confirm]
[5:30 PM Get Home Quick!!!]
“Huh?”
After deleting the morning alarm, May was about to burrow back under the covers—when she spotted a second. Then a third.
[6:00 PM Visiting Hours!!!]
[9:30 PM Go Home! Don’t let %&$ worry!!!]
What were these? Why did they exist? And what did “Don’t let %&$ worry” even mean?
“Wait—I can *cook*?!”
Stunned, she flipped out of bed and bolted to the kitchen.
“Mom! Can I cook?!”
“Good grief! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Her mom yelped, stirring a pot. “What’s wrong with you this early? You’ve been dragging yourself around like a zombie lately—why so energetic today?”
“Forget that! Just tell me—can I cook or not?!”
“Hah? Of course not! I’d be thrilled if you didn’t blow up the kitchen! Shoo! I’m making your favorite—eat soon!”
Muttering, May slunk back to the bathroom, still clutching her phone.
Her flaxen hair was neat, bright, with faint curl traces—but May never used a curling iron. Why today?
Unease prickled under her skin.
She opened her chat app. A pinned contact stared back: pixelated avatar, name scrambled—[%&%$…].
No messages. No clues. No memory of adding him. Why pin someone unreadable?
She checked Contacts. An unknown number. Garbled nickname.
Hesitantly, she dialed.
*Disconnected.*
She hung up, rushed back to the chat app—
Gone.
Frantic, she scrolled through contacts. Nothing.
“Did it vanish… just from me looking?”
She rinsed her mouth in a hurry, dashed back to her room (earning another scold from Mom), and grabbed her diary. She’d only started writing six months ago—maybe answers hid here.
Flipping expertly to the last entry:
[Sept 17, Sunny. %$& and I went to the observation deck. He told me #%$$…&. Our date—first and last. We ran into Zhao Xiaoluo and Chu Chu; they seemed cozy.]
[At the deck, we said goodbye. Finally %#$#…%]
“What the heck?!”
She flipped backward. Every page was about *him*—but vanished after reading. That’s why she started from the end. Afraid one wrong flip would break the thread.
Handwriting was hers. Style was hers. Yet early pages dripped with disgust toward him… then shifted to curiosity… then tender longing… then silence. Before that? Only Zhao Xiaoluo.
A hollow ache settled in her chest. Hugging the diary, she sat on her bed, watching the sun peek shyly through morning clouds.
*Who are you? Why did I pin you? Why did I like you? Why did you disappear? Why does everything about you feel so heavy… yet gone?*
Too many questions. But one truth remained: he was the only one. The love that ended before it ever began.
She nestled into her pillows, diary tight against her chest, lost in the quiet blue of the sky.
XxxxX
