He Thought He Could Use Me, But Now I’m the One Playing Him

Since the first year of middle school, I've been chasing after Julian.

On a laid-back afternoon, his long fingers gripped my pen, calculating formulas on a piece of scrap paper. He crouched down, his body half-leaning against the desk, his face filled with focus.

I just stared at his fresh and handsome profile, just like countless other girls with crushes.

"Got it?" His gentle voice broke the silence, soft and soothing in my ear.

I snapped out of my daydream and nodded, then shook my head. "No, I don't get it."

Patiently, he pulled a blank sheet of paper from underneath and said, "Let me explain again."

There was no hint of impatience as he began solving the problem anew.

I went back to my daydreaming...

"Julian, can you solve this problem?"

Vanessa Dale interrupted, asking him.

I felt a flash of irritation and muttered softly, "Can't you see he's explaining something? You totally interrupted his train of thought."

Julian took the paper from the class beauty, glanced at it briefly, and said, "I'll explain it to you later. This problem is easy."

The tone of his voice rose at the end, a clear sign of affection.

Vanessa playfully slapped Julian's arm. "Hurry up!"

When the class event was announced, he was picked to be the host.

The class beauty, tall with a sweet mouth, was also chosen.

They tried on their evening gowns, and when they stood together on the stage, the whole class erupted in excitement.

"Julian looks so handsome."

"She's a goddess!"

"Elena, these two are perfect together."

"Careful with the drool while you're at it."

As I wiped my face with my hand, I kept my eyes fixed on Julian, not looking anywhere else.

He stood lazily, his lean figure looking even slimmer in the black suit that made his skin look paler. The scattered sunlight hit his face, softening his features, his movements casual and at ease, easily catching the jokes thrown from the audience.

I blocked the view of the class beauty with my hand, mentally imagining it was me standing beside him.

Every day, as they rehearsed in the auditorium, I would take the long way around, sneaking a glance at them from the doorway.

The bright boy on stage, full of vigor.

His smooth, deep voice reached my ears.

It was etched into my heart, a secret too precious to speak.

One night, I dreamed of him.

It was our wedding.

He gently held my hand, planting a soft kiss on my fingertip.

"Do you take him to be your husband?"

"I do."

The next day, during lunch, my mom told me that I had kept repeating "I do" in my sleep all night, as if I was so happy about something.

"I'm not telling you!"

In my first year of college, Julian started dating Vanessa.

And just last week, he had rejected me.

"I'm sorry, right now I want to focus on my studies."

His voice was cold and flat, devoid of any emotion.

When the love letter was returned to me, I didn’t catch it in time.

I fought back the tears welling in my eyes, bent down, and picked up the letter from the floor.

Vanessa ran over just then, and her heel had left a mark on the envelope.

She naturally hooked her arm around Julian's, showing him something on her phone. "Let’s go here today, the Ferris wheel. I heard it has a view of the whole city."

I was mortified.

My head hung low, and the scar on my hand burned with an ache deep in my chest.

That scar was from the time in middle school when I desperately pulled Julian up from the fourth floor.

My wrist scraped against the rough stone wall, leaving a deep gash.

The cut was so deep it almost reached the bone.

And because of that, he would get dizzy and lightheaded when standing in high places.

The Ferris wheel?

Julian would never go.

I waited for him to refuse.

Just like how I couldn’t reach the grapes, I hoped he would turn down the other girl’s request too.

"Alright, let's go."

...

That evening, I became a voyeur, watching Vanessa's updates.

The two of them were kissing on the Ferris wheel, captioned, "My one true love."

Julian was the first to like the post.