Gone Was His Jasmine

Ethan appeared to be vaguely upset by my remark. There was a hint of mockery underneath his smile that did not look very pleasant.

He thought dismissively to himself that I was too young and far too impulsive. With my mismatched ambition and lack of patience, I wasn’t going to make it far in this city. I had only spent five years in the industry and was already expecting to ascend to the top! Did I think life was some sort of Hollywood movie?

To triumph, one needed to have true talent instead of relying on so-called nepotism. To name an example, sleeping with an executive to make it to the top wasn’t going to work. The business world was cutthroat; it was no Make-a-Wish Foundation. However, I should try again next time. If there was a next time, he would fairly crown me.

With that in mind, he tried to console me. “Arya, the celebration party is going to be held in the Rainbow Hall. You should come too.”

“No, thank you.” I declined politely, “I’m going home to get some rest.”

Ethan frowned. I was not the type to decline a chance at networking. It was the most important part of thriving in this industry. However, before he could spare another thought, Sophie had taken his arm.

Meanwhile, I hailed a ride. After burrowing in the backseat, I looked out the window and beheld the dazzling nightscape of Manhattan. There was something glacial about it.

Before I even got home, I could see the trending hashtags on social media, listing “Ethan Moore,” “Sophie Vanderbilt,” and “Architecture Power Couple.” Each hashtag was styled in bold red, suggesting that they were trending topics.

Ethan had an award-contending project that was three years in the making—a sustainable community development project set in a district in Brooklyn. He had very eagerly named Sophie as the lead architect of the project. If I were at the celebration party, I wager that my expression would’ve been so twisted that I would lose all social graces.

When the display on my phone darkened, I saw my reflection. I looked tired and pale. It did not seem like I was looking anywhere near pleasant as it is.

As soon as I closed the application, I received a text from Ethan.

“No need to wait for me. I’m going to be held up for a while.”

Instead of replying, I swiped the text away. A dim blue light was cast over my face while I began to reminisce about the process of how he breached into my world.

“That girl from Columbia University is a diamond in the rough. I was the one who trained her. Ignore those trending headlines. They’re artificially boosted anyway. I was only modifying her blueprint. We need to make headlines, Arya. This is business we’re talking about. When are you going to grow up?”

...

At first, it was “Who is she?”

Gradually, it became “Why her?”

Toward the end, nothing remained but silence.

When I read the long and elaborate messages about Sophie on the screen, I realized that it did not occur to him that it had been a long time since I texted him at all.

All that was left was a cruel line of text that said I was left on read.