My boyfriend had depression. His medication and therapy sessions cost thousands of dollars every month. To pay for his treatment, I worked day and night, juggling freelance illustration commissions and running food deliveries. My friends all warned me to be careful of working myself to death. Until one day, I snagged a lucrative delivery run to a high-end gated community. I respectfully handed the premium, $2,500 Japanese takeout order to the customer with both hands. When I looked up, I saw my boyfriend—who was supposed to be at his therapy session—standing in the doorway, looking at me in utter shock. 01 "Shouldn't you be at the clinic, Arthur Sterling?" I looked at the elegantly and luxuriously decorated mansion, my left hand gripping the takeout box so tightly it hurt. Even though it was 100 degrees outside, I was trembling as if I had plunged into an ice bath. I had only ever seen places like this in TV shows. "I'm sorry, Chloe, listen to me. Dr. Liu had an emergency this afternoon..." "I'm just hanging out at a friend's house." Faced with this sudden exposure, Arthur lost his composure and tugged at my sleeve. It was his go-to move when apologizing. It always worked, but not this time. I coldly swatted his hand away. I couldn't name the designer brand of the custom shirt he was wearing, but ironically, it fit his aura of a wealthy heir far better than the basic clothes he usually wore. I lowered my eyes, pulled out my phone, and opened the appointment app for Green City Hospital. Seeing that Dr. Liu in the psychology department still had available slots today, I lost all interest in exposing his lie. Taking a deep breath, I cleared my head and forced a calm, steady voice: "Arthur, are you having fun?" "Pretending to be a down-and-out, depressed, poor kid around me, acting like you can't even afford a bubble tea... when in reality, you're a rich kid who drops $2,500 on a single meal!" My lips trembled. I glared resentfully at the man in front of me, not even realizing my eyes had filled with tears. "You really... played me for an absolute fool..." "Two thousand five hundred dollars! I'd have to complete over six thousand delivery runs. That's two months of work..." The most ridiculous part was that the only app left open in the background of my phone... was the message I had sent Arthur half an hour ago. I told him I was treating us to an extra dish tonight, planning to make his favorite lotus root soup. Because the customer in this wealthy neighborhood was very generous, leaving a $15 tip. I just never imagined that the tip came from Arthur himself. 02 Arthur would always hold me late at night and say that in this world, my love was the only thing he would never question. Even his parents' love for him wasn't as pure as mine. Those whispers once made me rejoice that in a world where true feelings are rare, I was one of the lucky ones. Looking back now, I realized no one else would be stupid enough to brave the risk of heatstroke for a measly dollar hot-weather bonus, just to scrape together his medical expenses for the month a little faster. "I haven't slept more than five hours a night in so long. I dream about you recovering a day sooner." "You know this better than anyone, don't you?" My questioning voice gradually choked with emotion. Arthur's previously calm expression cracked, and he nodded, his eyes rimmed with red. In that cramped, rundown, one-bedroom apartment, where it took half an hour just to walk to the subway station... He watched me exhaust myself, watched me pinch every penny. Watched me struggle, desperately paying for his fake "slumming it" game, all to treat this fabricated depression. He acted like a god the entire time, watching coldly from the sidelines. "I'll transfer some money to your bank account as compensation." "I'm sorry for doing this to you." Arthur lowered his head slightly, guilt and a trace of helplessness in his eyes. Realizing he couldn't talk his way out of it, he simply gave up. With stiff fingers, I pulled out the crumpled receipt from my pocket. It was a foot and a half long, filled entirely with premium cuts of meat. I crumpled it into a ball and threw it at him with all my might. Arthur didn't dodge; his expression was a mix of sorrow and remorse. The cool air from inside brought a touch of relief. Amidst the chirping of cicadas, footsteps approached from nearby. Followed by a woman's coquettish voice: "Arthur, is the food here yet? I'm starving to death!" 03 Arthur and I broke our standoff, his expression changing slightly. When we both turned, we saw a young woman walking toward us wearing a lace slip dress. Arthur panicked and stepped forward to stop her: "Why did you come out? I'm coming right back in. Be a good girl, go back inside." But the girl seemed determined to see what was going on. She bypassed Arthur, looked at me with a smile, her almond eyes revealing a hint of familiarity and disdain. "Is this..." Silence. Seeing our mutual silence, the corners of her mouth curved up. She then naturally hooked her arm through Arthur's and pulled the dusty pink, slightly sheer slip dress down a bit. The red marks on her neck and the curves beneath the fabric were on full display. She leaned against Arthur softly, as if she had no bones. The man's anxious gaze fell on me. I turned my head away in despair and closed my eyes briefly. My sweat-soaked hair clung stickily to my face, and my temples throbbed with a dull ache. Even if I were dense, I knew exactly what had happened here. I originally thought I was just the unlucky victim in a rich kid's poverty simulation. Now, it seemed I was also the spicy seasoning in his love story. Just pure, unadulterated bad luck. I didn't want to stay any longer. I turned around, packed up my delivery box, and prepared to leave. But the girl suddenly called out to me: "Wait, are you the slum girlfriend Arthur plays with outside of school?" "I didn't recognize you in that delivery uniform. Are you Chloe Price from the College of Liberal Arts?" 04 I stopped and turned back to look at her. Half a minute later, I finally confirmed it. She was Mia, a senior one year ahead of me—the girl with an excellent background and looks, surrounded by admirers like stars around the moon. But we had history. Because she pulled strings to steal my financial aid grant for someone else, I never sucked up to her like everyone else did. Seeing my dark, unnatural expression, Mia tightened her grip on Arthur's arm. She put on an act of delightful surprise and spoke in a sugary voice: "Arthur, I didn't expect this! Last year, I casually complained to you about an annoying, pretentiously aloof junior..." "And after asking a few questions, you actually went and messed with Chloe for me! I admire your methods, so brilliant..." Mia looked up, glared at me, and continued: "So brilliant that you played the great talent of our college, Chloe Price, like a dog running in circles." My hands, hanging by my sides, slowly clenched into fists. The cool air from the house blew on me, but I felt no relief or comfort. To these people, the future, emotions, money, and sweat of ordinary people were like an eyesore of weeds by the side of the road. Not only did they ignore it, but they also had to trample it underfoot and spit on it. Mia leaned in and kissed Arthur's cheek, like a reward for making a fool of me, and shot me a provocative look. Then, as if remembering something, her expression turned strange and frantic. She asked: "Junior Chloe, did Arthur tell you he had depression?" I frowned, not denying it. The woman in front of me doubled over in laughter. But the words coming out of her mouth made my blood run cold. "That's because I told Arthur that your younger brother committed suicide because of depression." "As long as Arthur said he had depression, a brainless fool like you would definitely fall for it." "And sure enough." 05 As soon as her words fell, the air stagnated for a moment, leaving only the sound of cicadas. My mind exploded, losing all rationality. I bit my lower lip hard, took off my delivery helmet, gripped it tightly, and smashed it frantically at Arthur. If I swallowed this insult, I might as well go open a steamed bun shop tomorrow. My chest heaving violently, I screamed: "Depression, huh?! Playing poor, huh?! Love poking at people's trauma, huh?!" "You deserve to have parents who don't love an animal like you! You deserve to watch your dad beat your mom! Why didn't he beat you to death too?!" "I'll fucking beat you to death for your dad right now!" During the year Arthur and I were together, whether he was acting or feeling genuine emotion, we had shared our vulnerabilities. So I knew perfectly well that what he could never let go of was his parents' coldness and neglect, which left him completely deprived of familial love since childhood. And right now, that became my weapon to verbally attack and curse him. Before they could react, I smashed the helmet into Arthur's face again and again. Driven by pure rage, I gasped for air. Long-term lack of sleep made my head start to spin. The moment Mia mentioned my brother, Leo Price, the rationality I had maintained all afternoon crumbled instantly. He was my absolute boundary, the one person no one was allowed to touch. Until Mia pulled me away, Arthur didn't fight back once. He covered his mouth, his hands covered in blood. "Are you okay, Arthur?! I'm calling the police right now!" "This crazy bitch has a death wish, daring to hit you?! I'll have my dad..." Mia's angry voice cracked with tears, but Arthur grabbed her hand and shook his head: "Don't. Don't." "It's... what I owe her." He smoothed his hair, which I had messed up, stood up, and walked over to me. He pulled a gold card from his pocket and handed it to me: "The PIN is your birthday. I know things can't be undone, but... anyway, I'm sorry." I let out a cold laugh, looking at him with eyes full of nothing but ice and hatred. "Die early." I forcefully snatched the gold card from his fingers, dropped that sentence, and turned to leave. 06 There was $110,000 on the card. I asked the delivery company boss for my final pay and quit my job. The 250-square-foot studio apartment was so small you could see from one end to the other in a single glance. Back then, Arthur and I moved out of the dorms because he said his physical symptoms of depression were getting worse and he wanted me to be with him every day. Originally, I wasn't without my defenses against Arthur, who had barged recklessly into my life. But seeing him suffer from the same illness as my brother ultimately softened my heart and clouded my judgment. For a while, I couldn't even distinguish whether my feelings for him were mostly love, or an urgent desire to make amends born from my infinite guilt toward my brother. I just crazily, obsessively wanted to help Arthur cure his depression. It was as if doing so would lighten the nightmare I couldn't escape. Speaking of which, we didn't accumulate a lot of things over the year. But the couple's items we bought in pairs were glaringly painful to look at, so I just threw them all in the trash. Listening to the hum of the old air conditioner, I stared at the ceiling, slowly detaching from my relentless labor, and fell into a deep sleep. In my dream, I couldn't count how many times I had dreamed of Leo in the bathtub. He lay bloodless in the crimson liquid, his entire body as pale as a porcelain doll, without warmth, without breath. The pill bottle had fallen by his limp fingertips. His closed, long eyelashes curved exactly as they did when he dozed off waiting for me to finish studying day after day. Only this time, he would never open his eyes again. He would never rub his sleepy eyes and ask when his sister was going to bed. On his phone, he had cleared his chat history with everyone, leaving only one final message for me: "Sister, I'm sorry," and a transfer of $500. That was all the money he had left. The spring colors were vibrant that year when Leo, the golden boy, left in the best season. And I was trapped in that spring forever. 07 The rustling of a plastic bag behind the door jolted me awake. A man wearing a black dress shirt was crouching by the trash can, sneakily digging for something. "Who's there?" The man froze, then slowly turned around. It was Arthur. He was still wearing a mask, and there were several bandages on his face. I rubbed my aching forehead, forgetting he still had a key to the apartment. The couple rings, mugs, watches, and souvenirs I had thrown in the trash that afternoon had all been fished out by him and neatly lined up on the floor. "Why are you taking these?" Arthur lowered his eyes at my words, hiding his emotions. "I came to pack a few last things to take with me." "They're all worthless junk. Young Master Sterling actually wants them?" Sitting up in bed, I took the opportunity to look around to see if there was anything else important. Since things had come to this, I planned to move back to the dorms and terminate the lease here. Arthur held the cheap silver couple ring in his hand, his thumb gently rubbing it. His voice was lonely and low: "Chloe, I know you don't believe me, but I really mean it. I truly only trust you..." "No one has ever loved me so purely and genuinely. I don't want to lose you." I waved my hand, lowered my head, and scoffed. The scene from that afternoon replayed mockingly in my mind. "Mean what? Did you love me so much you specially had me deliver the post-coital meal? Should I thank you for that?" "I can explain what happened with Mia! Nothing has ever happened between us. Getting together was just something I agreed to casually back then." "And I wanted to break it off with her a long time ago. I've already realized the person I truly love is..." "There's no point in discussing this anymore." I cut him off coldly, my eyes indifferent. Water dripped into the bucket in the bathroom. The knee-high faucet leaked year-round, and to save on the water bill, I always kept a plastic bucket underneath it. The money saved was just a few pennies. Talking about sincere love now was laughable. The moment the scam was exposed, regardless of whether his feelings were genuine, an uncrossable chasm had already formed between us. "Actually, Arthur, when you used my brother's tragedy to get close to me, did you ever think that karma would come back to hit you one day?" "What do you mean?" I didn't answer. I just frowned, opened the door, and gestured for him to leave. Seeing my resolute expression, a flash of hurt crossed his eyes. He then shoved the items lined up on the floor into his bag all at once and stood up. "Stop pretending to have depression." "Because for every person like you in this world, the stigma surrounding depression gets worse, and the people who actually suffer find it harder to get help." And the number of people like Leo Price would increase by one. After a long pause, the man in front of me slowly nodded. Then Arthur pulled a bag of ribs and lotus root from behind the door. He had seen my message about the extra dish. "Can you make lotus root soup for me one last time?" "No. Your family's chef will make it much better." "I only like the way you make it." "Chloe, why can't you just trust me one more time? Give me another chance?" His voice was already choked with tears. I never expected that Arthur, having reclaimed his high-and-mighty status as the prince of Green City, would show such a pleading expression. At this moment, nothing fit the script of his poverty simulation anymore. Regardless of the truth in his words, I remained unmoved and silent. He understood I was refusing. He wanted to grab my hand but eventually let his arm drop. Before walking out the door, Arthur's eyes were red as he looked back at me. "Do you still love me?" "No." "Can you love me again?" "No." 08 After Arthur left, I started packing up the miscellaneous items in the apartment. Preparing to move back to school next week. Packing until the early hours of the morning, I slumped onto the sofa, my gaze falling on a box in the corner of the closet. It was locked. It contained the belongings my brother, Leo, left behind. We were twins. After our parents divorced, they started their own families. We were like the high-cost mistakes of our parents' youth—no one wanted to foot the bill, and no one wanted to look back. So, from middle school onwards, Leo and I had to rely on each other to survive on minimum child support. Thinking of this made my heart ache unbearably. I gripped a jewelry box tightly in my hand. This was the birthday present Leo gave me the year he left—a hexagram necklace encrusted with small diamonds. He smiled radiantly when he gave it to me, personally fastening it around my neck. "Sister, this is the necklace I bought with my own money! Do you like it? It looks so beautiful on you, better than on a model!" "Even though this one isn't expensive, I will work hard to put all the most beautiful gems in the world on my sister!" The teenage boy's eyes were sincere. I poked his single dimple and nodded happily. Leo, I believed you, so I've been waiting. Underneath the foam insert of the jewelry box, something rattled when I shook it. I picked it up and found a key. When Leo gave it to me the year before last, this key wasn't there. He must have put it in later. I took it out, thought for a moment, and my gaze fell on the chipped box in the corner. The lock clicked open. There were only four items inside. An oil painting full of withered sunflowers, an album by his favorite band, "Word and Wine," a diary, and a piece of paper with an account name and password written on it. My eyes landed on the black diary. I picked it up and placed it on my lap. I started reading from the beginning. The earlier entries were just daily trivia and which girl at school had confessed to him that day. It was only natural. Leo was handsome and fair, with charming peach-blossom eyes, yet he carried an aloof, aristocratic aura. Since we were young, I had accepted many love letters and snacks on his behalf. But perhaps because we were both abandoned at a young age, despite receiving so much admiration, he remained sensitive and delicate, which was why he developed the habit of keeping a diary. After entering A University, Leo, with his naturally gifted voice, quickly became the lead singer of the school band. At every performance, there were fangirls screaming for him. As I delved deeper into the memories, my finger paused on a page. Because Mia's name had suddenly appeared in the diary. And from then on, she appeared more and more frequently.
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