I Was Only B-Roll in His Life

I tapped into the airline app and bought a one-way ticket bound for my hometown in three days. The flight would take off in the evening.

As a window popped up notifying me of the successful payment, my fingers froze over my phone for a long while. It was as though I had finally woken from a dream that had lasted for three years.

A little over 1:00 am, the sound of the front door unlocking rang out before the bedroom light abruptly flared to life seconds later.

The glaring white light seared my vision, making me instinctively shut my eyes.

My boyfriend, Zachary Sutton, came to a stop beside the bed and spoke up. His tone was filled with impatience.

"Why did you do it? Did you know that Rowena has a brand partner coming tomorrow to assess our account? That job is now ruined because you deleted the account! Winona Lipton, do you ever use your brain before you do anything?"

I opened my eyes again but kept silent.

After waiting several seconds with no response from me, Zachary grew even more enraged.

"Over a million followers, gone, just like that! That means all the work and effort that I put in for the past three years were wasted! Just what the hell were you thinking?"

Pushing myself into a sitting position, I replied softly, "Zachary, I want to break up with you."

He paused for a moment before laughing. "This again? Every time you're upset, you threaten to break up with me. Don't you find it annoying? I'm just helping Rowena build a portfolio so that she can use it to find more collaboration partners. You're already an adult; is it really necessary to get jealous over such a minor thing?"

Once again, I remained quiet.

He sighed, then softened his tone. "Fine. I know that you've been in a bad mood recently, but did you really have to delete the account? Did you have to throw such a huge tantrum and cause such a huge mess? Now I have to think of a way to explain this to the brand partner. Am I not busy enough for you?"

I watched him pour a glass of water and drink it, all the while trying to talk sense into me.

Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion swept over me.

Throughout his long rant, he had mentioned Rowena Sanders' brand deal, the worth of our TikTok account, and his wasted efforts over the past three years.

However, not once had he ever mentioned me.

I lay back down again with my back turned toward him.

Zachary stood there for a moment longer before uttering in a less tense voice, "Sleep. We'll talk about this further tomorrow."

Subsequently, the sound of the shower turning on in the bathroom reached my ears.

I opened my eyes to stare at the ceiling. My mind suddenly drifted back to three years ago.

The night our account reached 100 thousand followers, Zachary and I had sat on the floor of our rented apartment and eaten microwaved mac and cheese to celebrate.

Zachary had waved his phone at me, his eyes gleaming so brightly as he said, "Winnie, from now on, you'll be in charge of taking the most beautiful shots, while I'll be responsible for editing you into the most wonderful stories. It's a promise, okay?"

Back in the present, the hissing of the running shower continued.

I blinked, but that still didn't stop the tingling sensation in my eyes.

…

The next morning, Zachary was already gone when I woke up.

I cooked myself a bowl of oatmeal, and as the steam wafted into my face, I could feel my eyes start to water again.

I sent my mother a message. "Mom, I'll be going back home in two days to stay for a while."

It took a long while before Mom replied, "Really? Are you not busy anymore? Your dad went for a follow-up last month, and the doctor said he was recovering nicely. He's always talking about you, though."

As I read the sentence, "Are you not busy anymore?", my throat abruptly closed up tight.

The first year away from home, Zachary had said we had to rush to finish producing a video before the end of the year.

"Who's going to help me if you leave for the Christmas holidays?"

The second year, my dad had to undergo coronary artery bypass surgery.

Zachary had said, "You won't be able to help even if you go back. Might as well finish shooting this brand deal and send the money back. That's more helpful than anything else."

In the third year, Rowena returned to the country. This time, he couldn't even be bothered to think of an excuse, only giving a vague answer of, "I'm too busy and can't leave."

I typed out a long response, wanting to say that I was sorry, that I had genuinely missed them dearly all these years, and that I was so, so tired.

In the end, I deleted the entire thing and only replied with, "I'll call you when I arrive. Tell Dad not to worry about me."