Chapter 2

"I don't want my identity to interfere with the path you'll take in the future."

Was it my imagination, or were his onyx-black eyes misted over?

"How could that be, Freesia? You've done so much for me. How could I bear to..."

A sharp pain struck my heart, and I suddenly raised my voice.

"Then tell me, in these five years, have you ever come to see me? Even once?"

"If you could just say that you came to visit me in prison, even if it was only once."

That alone would make me feel like all the hell I went through was worth it.

Zachary, with his six-foot-something frame, hunched his back before me. He lowered his head, and I couldn't decipher the swirling, deep quagmire in his eyes.

Five years is too long, long enough for the once warm and bright boy to have transformed into someone I no longer recognized.

I staggered out the door. He didn't follow me this time.

Due to the criminal record in my file, I was turned away by almost every company.

With no other choice, I could only apply for a job at a bar.

"Freesia, take this box of liquor to the VIP room on the second floor. Be quick about it."

Shaking my aching arms, I nodded respectfully to the supervisor, but deep down, I felt uneasy.

All the rooms on the second floor were set up as lounges, with the VIP room at the very end of the hallway.The door was slightly ajar, with deafening karaoke sounds emanating from within.

I knocked at the entrance for a long time without receiving any response. Finally, I gently pushed the door open and laboriously carried the entire case of wine into the private room.

"Hello, this is the wine our manager asked me to deliver."

The room was dim, and I kept my head down, staring only at the soles of my shoes.

"The wine I ordered is here. Zachary, you should try some too. This is white wine I had the boss specially air-freight from Germany."

Zachary was here too? Startled, I raised my head abruptly, and the man's stunned expression met my gaze directly.

Why? Why did I have to encounter him in this situation? Why...

Instinctively, I wanted to turn and leave, but my wrist was suddenly grabbed.

With a forceful tug, I fell straight into someone's arms.

"—"

It was the sound of a glass falling.

"They say the staff at Bessie's Bar are as good-looking as celebrities. Turns out it's not just talk."

The man wore glasses and had a portly figure. I was trapped in his embrace, unable to move.

When his hand reached for my inner thigh, I couldn't help but cry out, pushing him away in an instant and stumbling towards the door.

"Is this how things are done at Bessie's?" The man's voice was filled with anger.

I stiffly sat back down beside him.He turned his head and, without warning, pressed down on me. I tried to dodge by lying back, but he showed no intention of stopping, pinning my wrists and pressing me firmly beneath him.

I looked at him in terror... my chest heaving violently from the shock, my breathing rapid.

No... don't... not in front of Zachary.

There was a "rip" sound - the sound of clothes tearing. I closed my eyes in despair.

"Mr. Wellington, stop!"

Before I knew it, Zachary had me firmly shielded behind him.

He had his back to me. I saw his tall, slender silhouette and broad shoulders.

For a moment, it felt like all my exhaustion had found a place to rest.

Just like many years ago.

"Zachary, what's the meaning of this? Do you know her?" Director Wellington narrowed his eyes, looking dangerously in our direction.

Feeling Zachary's shoulders trembling slightly, I seemed to anticipate something, and a sudden, inexplicable panic rose from the depths of my heart.

"No... I don't know her..."

I looked at Zachary in utter shock. His back was slightly hunched, his eyes filled with emotions I couldn't understand.He lowered his head dejectedly, allowing Mr. Wellington to push me down again, laughing and chiding him for still being young.

Zachary hesitated, as if desperately suppressing something, and looked at him pleadingly. "...Director Wellington... let it go, she doesn't seem willing..."

Director Wellington didn't get angry upon hearing this. He simply applied more pressure with his fingers, and my voice, mixed with sobs, echoed in the empty private room.

"Zachary, don't ruin my fun."

"Do you still want to be in 'Moonlight'?"

...

Those who have beautiful memories aren't necessarily destined to walk hand in hand for life.

Zachary stood just a few yards away from me, eyes closed, not daring to look at me. His fists clenched several times before finally loosening helplessly.

Even though I was heartbroken, I stubbornly raised my eyes to look at him.

I refused to believe, and didn't want to believe, that the boy in my memories - who dared to tangle with street thugs to protect me, and who tried to act tough even when beaten black and blue - would say he didn't know me.

I held back the mist in my eyes, biting my lip hard to keep from letting out a whimper.Until the door was forcefully kicked open, the dim private room was instantly torn apart by the light from outside.

The silhouette standing beyond the light became increasingly clear.

"How spectacular."