The Fireworks of Love Will Gradually Fade

"Didn't I make myself clear enough on Larissa's birthday?" I asked myself as I ended the call and muted my phone. The frustration was palpable, but I had more pressing matters to attend to. I gathered my papers and headed to the Education Bureau to discuss my upcoming teaching position.

Bryan's good brother’s remarks seemed absurd now. What was it? I didn’t have the right to be cold? Was I only supposed to plaster a smile on my face and accept his indifference? The more I thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed.

At the Bureau, the leaders expressed admiration for my decision and provided extensive details about the teaching opportunities. They informed me about the local customs, the number of students, the conditions of the schools and the subsidies available. We spent three hours discussing everything in detail before we wrapped up.

When I added the leader’s Instagram for easier communication, I noticed a real-name poll had been launched in our classmate group. The question was: [If Bryan were single, would you pursue him?] The poll was started by Bryan's good brother.

Larissa had already chimed in with a dramatic, "If given a chance, I would protect Bryan for life!" Other classmates jumped in, tagging both Bryan and me, fueling the chaos.

Bryan didn’t show up in the group chat. I knew he was likely lurking in the background, silently observing, just as he had done in the past. When similar situations occurred before, Bryan would appear to dismiss the fuss with a casual remark, saying, "It’s just a joke. Why are you taking it so seriously? Reflect on yourself," before calling me to scold me for being too sensitive.

Afterward, his good friends and classmates would try to mediate and I would end up being branded as the narrow-minded one. Over time, I had learned to accept that role, even if it was unfair.

This time, I chose not to engage. I simply distanced myself from the classmates' banter and cast my vote as "unwilling."