Country A, City S
Lynkwa watched as the final line of subtitles vanished from her computer screen, and with a gentle motion, she closed the laptop. Rising from her chair, she stretched languidly, reaching for the thin coat draped nearby and slipping it over her shoulders. It was summer in City S, a season when the sky typically darkened late in the evening, yet now the darkness had fully enveloped the world outside. Despite this, she chose not to turn on the lights. Instead, she reached for the wardrobe beside her.
She dragged two enormous suitcases from their resting place and placed them on the floor, opening them wide. With methodical precision, she began to fill the suitcases with the clothes from her wardrobe. Once both suitcases were brimming with garments, she glanced at her watch. It was two in the morning. She placed her laptop into its bag, zipped it up, and then wheeled the suitcases and laptop bag to the entrance hall. She put on her shoes and stepped outside, descending the stairs.
She had witnessed the predawn hours of this city countless times, so many that she could no longer recall the exact number. There were times when she would wake up in the middle of the night, gaze out at the city of S through the window, and remain awake until dawn.
Approaching the freezer at the convenience store, she reached out toward a can of beer. However, her fingers paused upon touching the cold surface. She lowered her eyes slightly and instead picked up a can of cola from beside it. She took a seat on one of the empty benches near the store, popped open the cola, and took a sip. A few sporadic vehicles and pedestrians passed by, and she watched them with an unfocused gaze, her eyes devoid of any particular interest.
It was only when the cola in her hand was nearly finished that she took out her phone. She opened the system gallery and quickly scanned through it. The majority of the photos were of her with another person. In the images, she was beaming, her mouth wide open in a smile, her eyes curved with joy, while the person beside her wore a mischievous grin. There were pictures taken under the roadside sunlight, in the school library, at a friend's dinner party, and on a park bench. Different locations, different times, yet the same faces. From 2014 to 2017. She deleted each photo one by one.
Once the system gallery was cleared, she opened WhatsApp. She performed the same action. Then Facebook. Instagram. The list went on.
By the time the sky began to lighten, she was holding her phone, which had become scorching hot from prolonged use and was nearly out of battery. She opened WhatsApp once more and clicked on the profile of the person she knew all too well, someone she had last chatted with a month ago. She gently tapped the blood-red delete button.
"Delete contact and all associated chat history." She calmly pressed the red button once more.
After completing these tasks, she slipped her phone back into her pocket and tossed the empty cola can into the nearby trash bin. As she walked back to the apartment building, she had just taken out her keys when she saw a man and a woman emerging from the entrance. The woman's makeup was completely smudged, tears still streaming down her face. The man, tall and slender with an exceptionally handsome profile, wore a shirt with the top two buttons undone and held a cigarette between his fingers. His face was utterly expressionless.
"Does your conscience never feel even the slightest twinge of guilt?" the woman sobbed, her tears flowing anew. "Chase, is this how you will always be? No matter how much I care for you, it will never change you in the slightest?"
The man took a nonchalant drag on his cigarette, showing no intention of speaking.
"I truly believed I was different from all the other women before me. I thought you might have some feelings for me," the woman finally broke down, crying uncontrollably. "Seeing me like this, don't you feel even a bit of heartache, regret, or remorse? Tell me, just a little bit?"
Lynkwa felt extremely awkward. The couple was standing right at the entrance, blocking the way. If she tried to pass, she would have to ask them to move. She was caught in a dilemma, unable to go forward or backward, and was forced to witness the scene unfolding before her.
The man, sensing her gaze, turned his head and looked at her. Their eyes met, and she saw his full face clearly. His features were handsome, yet devoid of any emotion, unnaturally indifferent, as if the events unfolding before him were of no consequence.
"Enough, let's just leave it at that," the woman said, wiping her face vigorously with her hand. "Perhaps there truly is no woman in this world who can make you give even half a heart. I've tried so hard for so long, but I still have my pride. I don't want to be your dog anymore."
"Chase, you will never truly love anyone because you only love yourself."
With these words, the woman turned and left the building. As she passed by Lynkwa, her emotions still running high, she accidentally bumped into her.
Lynkwa sighed and rubbed her shoulder, then walked toward the entrance of the apartment building with her keys. The man, Chase, remained where he was, calmly finishing his cigarette.
As she passed him, she unlocked the door to the building. But as she pulled the door open, she suddenly stopped and turned to face the man. He dropped the cigarette butt and, seeing her gaze, silently looked back at her.
She tilted her head, extended her hand toward him, and clearly raised her middle finger. Then, she opened her mouth and silently mouthed a single word.
Asshole.
The man's eyes flickered slightly. Lynkwa withdrew her hand and walked upstairs without looking back.