Chapter 3

[Goodbye, World, 2024.4.21, 4:34 PM — Sometimes forgetting is a comfort to the departed]

I was leaning on Paige's shoulder. My sleeves were pushed up. My arms were mottled with old bruises.

My voice was hoarse.

"What should I do, Paigey? If this keeps up, there won't be any place left to put the IV needles. It hurts so much."

"Oh, now you know it hurts? Where was this energy when you stayed up late last night trying to snatch those concert tickets?"

I pouted.

"I have to see my ex-boyfriend's first concert after hitting it big, right? It's been a long time; I want to see if his singing has improved."

Paige fell silent. After a long while, she nudged me.

"You said the reason you broke up with him was that you didn't want to hold him back. If he still has feelings for you now, would you go to him for help?"

"No!" I said without a second of hesitation.

"But a single song of his can break ten million now. He definitely has the ability to help pay for your treatment."

"Still no! And you are not allowed to tell him either!"

"But, you right now..."

I put my hands on my hips. The indwelling IV needle on the back of my hand had left a blue-green mark on my skin.

"I'm doing perfectly fine right now. Besides, I dumped him when he was at his absolute poorest. If I went back to him right after he achieved fame and success just to tell him I'm sick, what would that make me?"

"Don't worry, I am Claire Whitman! A little bit of cancer? Easy peasy!"

I brought my index finger and thumb together, making a 'pinching' gesture.

Paige looked at me for a moment, then sighed.

I waved my hand. "Let's go. Throwing money at this disease won't necessarily cure it anyway. I might as well spend my limited funds enjoying my last days. Hurry up, hurry up, didn't we have plans for the amusement park tonight? Before that, I found this great barbecue place... Ah!"

I crashed headfirst into someone's chest. I was apologizing profusely, but when I looked up and saw the person's face, I instantly stumbled back several steps.

Paige gasped. "Adrian?"

Even though he was wearing a mask and bundled up tightly, lovers can recognize each other from just a pair of eyes.

"Claire?" His handsome eyes carried a hint of shock. Then, it morphed into anger and reproach.

Without a second thought, I turned around and ran.

The camera shook wildly as Paige sprinted after me.

A cancer patient managed to run at a pace faster than when she was healthy.

Behind my violent gasping, someone was screaming my name. "Claire! Do you really hate me that much?!"

…

[Goodbye, World, 2024.4.21, 11:19 PM -- Love always seems to hide in unseen corners]

"Yes, I'll just take one look and leave. Thank you for the trouble."

"Claire, it's not that I have a problem with you. We're from the same village, after all. But you were the one who dumped him, and it took him so much effort to finally move on.

"That junior of yours has also become a top star in the entertainment industry now, and she likes him a lot. The public opinion is strongly backing them together. Please don't..."

I smiled and nodded. "I know, Lana. I won't bother him. I just want to see him for the last... cough, I just want to see him."

"...Alright."

After a brief exchange, I pointed the camera at myself. "I'm at Lana's house now. The person standing behind me is Adrian's manager, by the way.

"Back then, to force him to write songs, she deliberately bought the apartment right across from his. From these floor-to-ceiling windows, you can see right into Adrian's place. The second he slacked off, she would call him, hahaha~

"But he always keeps his curtains drawn, so we probably won't be able to see anything anyway."

As I spoke, I pointed the camera toward Adrian's new apartment.

The camera lens passed through the open curtains and landed on a framed picture hanging on his wall. My smile abruptly vanished.

It was a couple's photo of him and me from the past.

In the photo, we were wearing clothes meant for a wedding, laughing jokingly at the camera.

That day, I had even teased him: "If you ever hit it big one day, you should really marry me."

I never expected that he would actually hang this jokingly-taken wedding photo dead center on his wall.

He was back.

Taking off his mask, he raised his hand and gently touched the photo.

Then, he clenched his hand into a fist and pressed it hard against the frame. He leaned against it as if all his strength had drained away, his head bowed, his shoulders shaking.

Holding the camera, I also pressed my fist against the floor-to-ceiling window, gritting my teeth to suppress my trembling.

I started to laugh: "I suppose he'll never know in this lifetime that I'm actually standing right behind him."