Chapter 145 - Someone Like You 2: A Coward (1/2)

That evening, as we ate at a chic restaurant, I steadily watched JT as he took over the conversation. We talked about everything and nothing at all. He shared his experiences in his travels and food, but I noticed that he never said anything about himself which gave me no idea whatsoever about the enigma which was him. He asked a lot about me, however, but like him, there were some things that I'd rather not talk about. Even so, I couldn't resist asking him about his unexplained attachment to me.

”Why,” I started speaking, and my throat caught when those almond eyes zeroed on me.

I couldn't get used to that intense gaze no matter how often I've spent time with him. For a moment there, I thought my voice would fail me. If he hadn't smiled at me encouragingly, urging me to continue speaking I might not be able to speak anymore.

”Why me?” I asked, and I watched as one of his brows arched in question.

Several seconds ŀȧpsed and my inquiry remained unanswered. For a while, I thought he didn't understand— that I had to repeat myself, but he finally spoke, after sipping from his champagne flute.

”Why not you?” His challenging remarks made my eyes grow wide, and I felt flustered.

”Because you're a star and I…” I started out, my head's filled a plethora of reasons why I shouldn't be involved with him— all of which compared our lifestyles and status in life, and I felt so small. ”I'm an ugly nobody…” I whispered sorrowfully, ashamedly and I felt him freeze in front of me.

When I looked at him again, I saw all humor had vanished from his face. His playful demeanor gone, replaced by a certain seriousness which made me regret I ever spoke. I was aware, I knew. I already looked ugly, but someone who had no confidence was totally unpleasant.

”Nixie Choi, of all people, I never expected to hear such a thing from you,” JT told me a matter-of-factly.

He didn't have to say it, but I knew in my heart that I gravely disappointed him, and my ċhėst tightened with regrets.

We finished our meal in silence, no longer tasting anything. He took me home without saying anything, and I watched his car leave quietly.

As soon as his car was out of sight, I trudged towards my empty apartment directly towards my room, removing my coat and haphazardly letting them fall on the floor. Undoing the buŧŧons on my shirt, I flopped on my bed and sighed. The painful throbbing in my ċhėst hadn't disappeared. If anything, it only worsened now that I was alone.

”Hmph!” I ġrȯȧnėd in frustration as I turned over, clutching my head as if to clear it.

It was a futile attempt however. The frustrations and regrets gnawed at me, making me itch to scream or strike. I'd never been this depressed before— at least not since then.

I only ever fell in love once, and it was a long time ago. Back then, it was I who was under the spotlight. With my face and outgoing personality, the people around me liked me— at least I thought so, except him.

In our class, there was this gloomy boy who everyone always teased. He was overweight and his face was always hidden by his longish hair he never fixed. The thick bottle bottom glasses he wore only made his appearance worse, and he got bullied a lot because of that.

I never knew how students could be so nasty until that time. They pushed that boy into being the class representative against his will so he could be the class' gofer. Taking pity on the boy, I did the unexpected and gave him my ȧssistance, and it was the start of my unrequited love.

Every day, my eyes were on no one else but him. Despite the unfair treatment, no matter how difficult it was, that boy earnestly worked hard completing his tasks. No complaints. None. Spending time with him, I asked myself, how could I not fall in love? With confidence and with my heart on my sleeve, I confessed to him. He was shocked. My sudden declaration was unexpected, and so he said.

Unfortunately for us, our nasty classmates found out about it, and made an issue out of it, demeaning him more, hurting him. And I…

I who couldn't even say a word to defend him in my cowardice stayed quiet, worrying but not doing anything to stop the nastiness. I was a coward. I was an idiot, and I regretted it ever since.

I wanted him, but had no confidence in getting him. In the end, the boy treated my confession as a joke— another nasty prank with me trying to break his heart.

”How could someone like you, love someone like me…”