Quentin Bennett shot her a cold look and remarked, "Nobody stays attractive forever." I playfully pointed to myself and quipped, "Well, I will." Quentin Bennett chuckled, "Is that so?" Briella Cortez sneered, clearly displeased with my interruption of their 'tender' conversation. "You don't even qualify as attractive." I widened my eyes in disbelief and retorted, "I'm not attractive? I thought I was considered a little beauty, at least!" "You're not attractive. Quentin is more attractive than you." "That's a lover's perspective. Haven't you heard that beauty is in the eye of the beholder?" Quentin Bennett furrowed his brow. "Enough, stop talking, shut up." Both Briella Cortez and I fell silent. I chose to gaze peacefully out of the window, while she obediently continued driving. --- Today, Quentin Bennett's job was to shoot an endorsement, and upon arriving at the location, I couldn't hide my disdain. "What international big-brand endorsement are you shooting? The set here i
"Did you catch the livestream today?" he asked. "Yeah, I did." I met his gaze, anticipating his next question. Quentin nodded with satisfaction, "Alright, I'm heading out." Just like that? He hurried over to knock on my door, just for this?! I intercepted him, "Just for this? Seriously?" Quentin turned around, a smirk on his lips, "Is it good-looking?" "Are you referring to yourself or the red carpet?" Quentin's amused expression gradually faded as he walked away, leaving me pondering the reason. The next day, Quentin took a break. Towards the end of the year, his job revolved around red carpets, and nothing more. However, today, Evie and the others couldn't stay home for various reasons, so only Quentin and I were at home. Yet, Quentin once again claimed my balcony, commandeering his cherished rocking chair. Covered in a blanket, he lay there, holding his phone, swaying back and forth. I was so irritated that I changed my position, turning my back to Quentin. Out of sight, out
Briella's expression tightened, and the warmth in her smile slowly faded. "Quentin, do you have to be so harsh with your words?" "If you don't want me to be harsh, then maybe avoid saying things that disgust me." Briella's face turned cold as she fixed her gaze on Quentin, as if trying to pierce through him with her eyes. Quentin quickly got under Briella's skin, and, remembering his "important business," he pushed me forward while firmly holding onto my collar. "Hey, hey, hey, don't take out your frustration on me because of Briella. I'm innocent." "Innocent? Did you forget about kicking me out earlier today? You just apologized, and now it's like you've totally forgotten." "I messed up." Admitting my mistake quickly might spare me from a lecture. Quentin led me to the kitchen, casually checking the feel of each kitchen tool—pots, spatulas, bottles, even frying pans. My eyes trembled as I watched Quentin handle the frying pan. Quentin put down the frying pan, and I let out a
Evie's emotions are like a whirlwind, shifting swiftly. After waking up from her alcohol-induced slumber, she was ready for a confrontation, arguing with Briella early in the morning. Even I, who had sympathized with Evie yesterday, couldn't help but roll my eyes; she's truly single-minded, with a brain capacity comparable to a dried booger. As the year-end approached, everyone was immersed in their own busyness. Quentin was captivating the red carpet, I was engrossed in my studies to secure my future, Daniela was preoccupied creating challenging exam papers, and Briella and Evie were swamped with their respective work commitments. Days passed in a blend of mundane routines and occasional conflicts. The day of my postgraduate entrance exam arrived unexpectedly, and suddenly everyone at home assumed the roles of concerned parents. Even Briella, who typically showed little interest, expressed her worry for me: "You have to give it your all. People like you can only elevate your status
"I know this area well, and at this hour, it's pretty deserted," he mentioned. Casually, I tugged at Quentin's coat, counting the pieces of his outfit from the collar. "It's freezing, and you're dressed too lightly, don't you think?" Quentin stayed silent, his gaze fixed on me, lost in thought. Feeling a bit uneasy under his scrutiny, I bent down and offered a pair of new slippers. "Here, put these on; they're fresh out of the box." "Thanks." It wasn't Quentin's first time here. He strolled into the guest room with familiarity. "It's pretty chilly; I'll grab a quick shower." "Sure, go ahead. I've got towels, bath towels, and a toothbrush in the bathroom for you. Pajamas are in there too." Quentin entered the bathroom and spotted neatly folded towels and pajamas on the shelf. "Got it," he acknowledged. I shrugged awkwardly. Just then, the doorbell chimed again—this time, the actual delivery had arrived. After taking the takeout to the kitchen, I remembered Quentin might be hung
Him: "You're missing the point of what I'm saying. Philosophy is just one of those so-called paths. Maybe philosophy is a dead end, a hoax, a self-congratulation."A hypnotist friend called me one day and said he had a patient who was rather interesting and asked if I was interested.Him: "We only see part of the world, in reality, the world is big, big, big."Let me say anything else, and he stopped answering. But he'd accomplished his goal: tickling my mind about something, but that only messed with the brain more.Me: "Not interested."Him: "I talk much slower than I think and a lot of things get left out."Me: "Are you trying to deny people?"I lost sleep that night, all sorts of jumbled thoughts mixed together, unable to make sense of them. I understood what he was saying, but I didn't know what to do about it. The next day I was tempted to talk to him again, and suddenly I felt terrible about it. Because I had been designing where to fasten the DV to my clothes last night before
Her: "That's what it's supposed to mean. Later on 'they' said several examples of things done by Earthlings who gave up parts of their own kind. Including the two world wars, and the creation of various diseases, the bubonic plague, and the sinking of the Great Western Continent."Me: "And then how was it taken away?"Her: "I don't know, maybe."Me: "Didn't you tell your husband? Or your husband didn't ask you what you did for those two hours?"I remember being really dumbfounded because I'd heard countless bizarre stories, but there really wasn't anything of the sort, or was I just out of touch? Maybe in a few days someone will pop up again and say it was in some sci-fi magazine? Never mind whatever, but I really haven't heard anything like that.Her: "A year and a half ago."Me: "I noticed one thing: you just said that the car hadn't been turned off when you stopped it, is it possible that your car is the auto-locking kind, and that you couldn't open the door at that time because it
Her: "Our garage is a small single room with motorized roller shades, and when I came in, I closed the shades and my car was left on, so if I had just fallen asleep in my car, I would have been poisoned to death ......"Me: "Then why did you say it to me again?"Her: "And...there's one thing, I think, this is true."Me: "So, does your foreseeing the future have anything to do with your mania?"Him: "Part of it."I was flabbergasted to hear such a sentence so suddenly, and hurriedly looked down at his profile, "How do you mean? The future? There's no such part ah ......"Me: "Uh...do you remember what happened when you were manic?"Him: "No, anything that would wake me up. In fact anything or anything that would wake me up didn't wake me up because I would wake up about half a minute earlier."Me: "Are you trying to say that's what caused your mania?"Me: "Suppose that really was a coincidence?"I looked at his corset, "Seems a little tight, doesn't it?"Him: "Isn't it an arrest?"She