Leaving Before The Final Encore

Rosa, clad in a limited-edition designer tracksuit, bounced over with a smile and clapped Reuben on the shoulder.

"Reuben!"

Only then did she seem to notice me. Her gaze raked over my paint-splattered jeans. "So this is your girlfriend?" Her lip curled slightly. "Wow, you smell so... artistic. Like paint and turpentine. And Reuben, honey, that t-shirt you're wearing is... something else."

She let out a small laugh, the mockery in her eyes undisguised.

I looked down, twisting the hem of my shirt between my fingers, my cheeks burning.

I had hand-painted this t-shirt, but next to her dazzling outfit, it felt childish and plain.

Reuben casually handed a bottle of water to Rosa and asked why she'd shown up out of the blue. She said there was a new move that needed urgent practice.

That afternoon, Reuben and I were supposed to go see a movie together.

But Rosa's words were all it took. He turned to me, his expression apologetic but firm. "Hey, we'll have to catch that movie another time. The competition's coming up, so I need to go practice with Rosa."

I was taken aback for a moment, then just nodded.

Rosa immediately looped her arm through his, shooting me a playfully apologetic look. "So sorry about this! You don't mind if I steal him for a bit, do you?"

No one noticed my quiet humiliation, not even Reuben.

That was just the first time.

After that, similar incidents happened again and again.

When Rosa wanted to film a new dance video, Reuben would ditch our date to be her personal cameraman.

When Rosa needed someone to banter with on her livestream, Reuben would drop everything to join her, fielding all sorts of flirtatious questions from their fans.

When Rosa celebrated hitting one hundred thousand followers, Reuben threw a huge party for her, inviting all their friends and personally handling every detail.

But he completely forgot that day was also our anniversary.

Every time I got angry, Reuben always had the same excuses.

"She's just my partner, don't overthink it."

"My career is taking off right now. Can't you just support me?"

"Since when did you get so insecure and petty?"

Arguments, silent treatments, making up. A vicious, repeating cycle.

Whenever a fight dragged on, the sight of the weary impatience on his face would always make me the first to give in, to reach out and take his hand.

He would pull me into his arms and murmur, "Alright, alright, you're the only one I love."

And then, everything would snap back to how it was before.

Rosa would still summon him at all hours, and he seemed incapable of ever saying no. And whenever I tried to voice my feelings, he would just see it as me being unreasonable.

That unique tattoo I designed for him, the one he kept promising he would get? He never did. Until one day, I stumbled upon a file on his computer. He'd altered the design himself, weaving a stylized 'R'—for Rosa—into our symbol.

It wasn't until tonight, when I saw that video of them kissing, that all the excuses I had made for him shattered completely.

If my presence was so repulsive to him, then I would just leave.