I abandoned Lucas Song when he was at his poorest. “Did you really think I enjoyed squeezing into a tiny apartment with you, living in poverty?” When we met again, he had already become a wildly popular author and director. Reporters swarmed to interview Lucas about the inspiration behind his masterpiece, “The Monster in the Apartment.” He looked past the crowd, his eyes meeting mine as he smirked coldly. “The female lead in this book is indeed based on someone real. We had a brief connection once. “However, she’s dead now.” As the end credits rolled, the screen went dark. The lights in the theater gradually brightened. Quiet sobs could still be heard – many viewers hadn’t yet emerged from the emotional impact of the film. My friend Emma nudged me with her elbow as she wiped away tears. “Aria, I’m so glad I dragged you to see this! I loved the novel, but I never expected the movie to be this good and moving!” A complex mix of emotions churned inside me, but I held them back, not responding. Today was the premiere of “The Monster in the Apartment.” The premiere was meant to generate buzz before the official release, with a select audience getting to watch the film a week early. After the screening, the director, lead actors, producers and other key crew members would interact with the audience. The host was preparing to take the stage, and the audience’s attention quickly shifted, an air of excitement building. But most weren’t here for the lead actors. The film’s director and screenwriter, who was also the author of the original novel, Lucas Song, had far surpassed the two leads in fame. Since publishing his debut work “The Monster in the Apartment,” Lucas had consistently topped bestseller lists with his bold realism and gripping prose. His subsequent works were also hugely popular with readers, cementing his status as a literary superstar. With his handsome looks, female fans dubbed him “the genius author who doesn’t rely on his face.” Lucas continued to break new ground, adapting his first blockbuster novel into a film. Even when just the trailer for “The Monster in the Apartment” was released, the hype was so intense that even those outside literary circles knew about it. All these years, I had just been quietly following his career from afar. I met Emma, who also grew up in Muyu City, while studying abroad. We returned to China together, and Emma’s birthday happened to coincide with this premiere. Since she was a devoted fan of the novel, I agreed to accompany her. I clutched the premiere ticket tightly in my hand. The host walked to the center, smiling as he began his opening remarks. Media reporters in the front rows had already raised their cameras and microphones. My mind went blank, my heart inexplicably racing. It wasn’t until Emma excitedly patted me that I realized the key crew members were entering one by one. Excited screams erupted from the audience. “Lucas is even more handsome than in photos!” “I finally get to see my idol in person!” I looked up. My breath caught. I spotted Lucas immediately. Most of the camera flashes were focused on him. He walked calmly to the center. That handsome face now had an added air of coolness. His gaze was no longer as gentle as before, but calm like a deep pool. If my previous impression of Lucas was gentle, sensitive, and passionate… Cold, aloof, and distant would be all the words I’d use to describe him now. Lucas nodded slightly to the media, casting a quick glance over the audience. I was sitting in the back corner, unlikely to be noticed, so I let out a small sigh of relief. The entire venue quieted at the host’s cue, and reporters began interviewing the key crew members one by one. The media’s interest was entirely focused on Lucas. They only asked the male lead a few cursory questions before quickly turning their microphones to Lucas. “Mr. Song, ‘The Monster in the Apartment’ tells the story of young men and women finding redemption in a run-down apartment. The descriptions and details feel so real that many people deeply relate to and are moved by it. “So I’d like to ask, Mr. Song, are these experiences you’ve personally been through? Is the female lead based on a real person?” The venue fell silent for a few seconds as everyone waited for Lucas’s answer. Suddenly, Lucas looked past the crowd, his eyes meeting mine. My heart plummeted. He stared in my direction, smirking coldly. “The female lead in this book is indeed based on someone real. We had a brief connection once. “However, she’s dead now.” His words caused an uproar. “Oh my god, so this work actually has a real-life inspiration? Does this mean the story is Lucas’s way of commemorating this dead love interest?” Emma said. I gave a bitter smile. Only I understood Lucas’s meaning. In his heart, I had died completely that summer day long ago.
After the premiere ended, I said goodbye to Emma. As I waited for a ride by the curb, people around me were still discussing the “dead” female lead Lucas had mentioned. “My friend went to college with Lucas. I think I know who he’s talking about…” “Who is it?” “This girl called Aria Ning. She was broke but liked to pretend she was rich. People found out she was working as a waitress and hostess all over town. “The funniest part is, there were rumors she hooked up with Lucas, but then dumped him because he was poor. “Isabella Locke was the one who suppressed this gossip.” “Isabella Locke? The lead actress who was sick and couldn’t come today?” “Yeah, the wealthy heiress. She’s always liked Lucas, and had a complicated relationship with Aria Ning. I guess they were love rivals… I always thought the female lead was based on Isabella.” “Me too. Isabella is beautiful, comes from money, and is a good actress. She seems like the perfect match for Lucas.” I froze in place. Even after all this time, hearing Isabella’s name made my heart sink. Isabella Locke was the lead actress Lucas personally chose for “The Monster in the Apartment.” She was my nightmare. Isabella had destroyed so many things in my life, including my relationship with Lucas. For reasons I never understood, Isabella had always targeted me. In college, Isabella spread rumors that I was cheating on my boyfriend and had secretly aborted another man’s child. When the rumors came out, combined with my reputation as a goody-two-shoes top student, it spread like wildfire across campus. Isabella, as the student council president, deliberately brought up these rumors, indirectly confirming them. Although there was no direct evidence in the end, I was forced to take a leave of absence due to the pressure of public opinion. After several attempts to argue my case, no one believed me, including my father. My father cut off my bank card and made me stay at home to “reflect.” Furious, I ran away from home and had no choice but to find work to support myself. But then I was accused of pretending to be rich when I was actually broke. It wasn’t until years later, when I worked hard to get back on track academically and successfully applied to graduate school abroad, that my father started to look at me differently. Everyone believed Isabella, just because she was the Locke family’s daughter. Little did they know, she was only my father’s adopted daughter. Though adopted, she was especially doted on by my father. Since she was slightly older than me, my father tacitly acknowledged Isabella as the Locke family’s eldest daughter in public. My birth mother had passed away early on. I took my mother’s surname, so few people connected me to the Locke family. In college, I always kept my head down studying and never deliberately revealed my true identity to avoid attention. Isabella was different, flaunting her status as the Locke family’s daughter. While I was gradually overlooked, as if I were the outsider in the Locke family. Shaking off these thoughts, I realized the driver had arrived. As I got in the car, I suddenly changed my destination. “Take me to Bluespring Lane.” I stared absently out the window. We drove further away from the bustling city center, with more and more low-rise buildings appearing. Despite its pretty name, Bluespring Lane was just a cramped alley among dilapidated apartment buildings. Opening the car door, I stepped onto the damp, muddy ground. The apartment building in front of me had peeling walls, rusty security bars with clothes hanging from them, and a constantly dripping public faucet that seemed impossible to tighten fully, forming puddles where bicycles were parked, with spots of mold and moss growing nearby. The only thing that seemed capable of dispelling all the damp gloominess was the single yellowed light in Bluespring Lane. I walked straight into the alley. Most of the units here were rentals, crammed with confused and lost young people, cheap pots and pans, and noisy arguments. It was also where Lucas and I had once found solace in each other. Back then, I was penniless and desperate. It started pouring rain outside, so I randomly knocked on someone’s door. Lucas opened it. He was the one who took me in. I stood in front of the building entrance and lit a cigarette. My vision blurred in the bluish-white smoke from my fingertips. I vaguely sensed someone passing by and slowly looked up. Suddenly, I found myself staring into Lucas’s eyes. He stood before me, expressionless. I froze slightly, wanting to speak but hesitating. Lucas just said coldly, “Excuse me.” “Lucas?” My voice trembled slightly. He repeated coldly. “Please move aside.” I shifted slightly. Lucas walked into the building without looking back. I turned and called out to him. “You still live here?” Lucas paused briefly, turning his head to smirk. “What’s it to you?” He continued up a few more steps without stopping, just taking out a cigarette. I instinctively followed. But he turned back, his gaze icy. “Don’t follow me.” Seeing I didn’t move, Lucas leaned down, getting close to my face. He had the cigarette between his lips, tilting his head slightly. The glowing ember from my cigarette naturally lit the end of his. I could clearly see his eyes, but couldn’t read the emotions in them. He deliberately blew a smoke ring in my face. I choked, coughing uncomfortably. I still hadn’t gotten used to the harshness of cigarettes, only daring to take tiny puffs. “If you can’t handle smoking, don’t pretend.” Lucas slowly straightened up, saying mockingly. “And don’t act concerned about things you wanted to throw away.” My heart ached dully. My phone rang – it was Ryan, my childhood friend. Since I’d returned home, he’d been pursuing me. “Aria, is the premiere over? I’ll come pick you up.” “I’ve got hot pot ready at home, let’s eat together.” The stairwell was eerily quiet. Ryan’s voice came through clearly from the other end of the phone. Lucas glanced at the ring on my middle finger, his tone flat. “You’re engaged to him?” I hung up the phone, not getting a chance to explain before Lucas gripped my chin. He forced me to look up at him. Lucas sneered, but there was anger in his eyes. “You have a fiancé but you’re here trying to seduce me? Quite the player, aren’t you.” “I…” My eyes stung slightly. The grip on my chin hurt. Lucas suddenly let go and turned to go upstairs without looking back. “Someone who’s already dead to me, “Don’t appear in front of me again.”
Suddenly, footsteps coming down the stairs echoed in the stairwell. “Lucas, you’re back! “My fever’s mostly gone. I’m so glad you let me rest at your old place – I really didn’t want to go to the hospital… “Oh, I was just about to take out the trash. There was a lot of clutter in the apartment, so I helped clean it up for you.” It was Isabella’s voice. “Who told you to touch my things.” Lucas’s voice was ice cold. “Huh? I just thought a lot of that stuff wasn’t worth keeping…” Isabella was taken aback. The next second she put down the trash bag and tugged at Lucas’s hand. “Come on, don’t be mad. I didn’t know you don’t like people touching your stuff.” As Isabella was speaking, she noticed me and her movements faltered slightly. “Aria Ning? What are you doing here?” Isabella frowned, her tone somewhat sharp. Seeing no reaction from me, she suddenly made an “oh” of realization, let go of Lucas’s hand, and walked past him. She crossed her arms and stood in front of me, looking down her nose with a smirk. “Came running to latch onto success, did you?” “Or…” Isabella leaned in close to my ear, lowering her voice. “Ryan isn’t satisfying you?” Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Lucas clench his fist. Isabella continued with a smile. “Should I remind you how you abandoned Lucas back then?” “You go first,” Lucas cut Isabella off. “I already called a car for you earlier, it should be waiting at the alley entrance.” Isabella was speaking to Lucas but looking at me triumphantly. “Then I’ll come find you at your place tomorrow, Lucas.” As she passed by me, she leaned in close to my ear again. “If you dare bother Lucas again, you know what the consequences will be.” I stumbled back slightly from her shove. Not long after Isabella left, it started pouring outside. I stood dazed in front of the building entrance. I took out my phone, debating whether to call Ryan. I had refused his offer to pick me up earlier. But now with the heavy rain, he was the only person I could think of to help me. The stairwell light behind me flickered off and on again. I turned around to see Lucas. His face was hidden in shadow, his expression unreadable. “Come up.” “What?” I was slightly stunned. “I need to go. I was about to call Ryan to…” The name “Ryan” seemed to provoke Lucas. Before I could finish speaking, he gripped my wrist tightly. “Come up.” “Lucas… let go of me…” I struggled to break free. Lucas’s grip only tightened. “Your fiancé doesn’t show up for hours, “You tell him not to come, and he just leaves you alone here? “You’re that eager to go with him?” “I need to go home…” I stubbornly tried to pull away. “Back to the home you share with Ryan?” Lucas’s tone grew increasingly cold. “He’s nothing but a hypocrite. You’re going to marry him?” “Lucas, let go of me!” The pent-up emotions finally exploded. My voice carried a hint of tears. “What does it matter to you… In your eyes, I’m already…” Lucas ignored me, dragging me up to the third floor. He unlocked the door one-handed, pulled me inside the apartment, and kicked the door shut. My wrist was gripped painfully as my back slammed against the wall. The light switch was accidentally hit. In the dim yellow light. Lucas’s eyes were bloodshot, his voice hoarse. “It matters to me.”
Outside the window was a rainy night. Inside was a tiny rented apartment. The sound of rain pounded relentlessly on my heart. I leaned weakly against the wall, eyes downcast, lashes trembling slightly. “Lucas, calm down.” I tried to keep my voice steady. But Lucas’s scent was making my thoughts chaotic. The smell of citrus body wash mixed with a faint tobacco scent enveloped me, along with waves of scorching heat. Hearing my words, Lucas’s tightly gripping fingers trembled slightly, as if trying to restrain himself, then loosened a bit. In that brief moment of withdrawal, the temperature and scent nearly dissipated. I instinctively grabbed the front of his shirt. Lucas froze, then his eyes darkened. I quickly pulled my hand back, avoiding his gaze. “I… “I need to go.” I pushed Lucas away, but he caught my wrist with one hand. He propped his right elbow on the wall above me, looking down. “Look at me.” A shadow loomed over me as my chin was gently tilted up, suddenly meeting Lucas’s dark eyes. “Say you like me.”
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