Years after graduation, my high school desk-mate and secret crush had become a massive superstar. When we crossed paths at our class reunion, his expression was icy. "And you are?" Everyone thought Perry Wright had forgotten me. That was until the news of my accidental death traveled back. While my best friend was packing up my belongings, she accidentally discovered a love letter Perry had written to me years ago, hidden inside a picture frame. [June, loving you in secret is too bitter. I don’t want to like you anymore.] But further down, there was a line of small text: [Just kidding. I lied.] That same night, the news of Perry committing suicide made global headlines. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the class reunion. I looked at the indifferent Perry sitting across from me, tentatively pulled out my phone, and sent him a text. The very next second, his phone blasted a unique, dedicated ringtone. Perry: "..." 1 I died on a snowy day. I went out to the mountains looking for inspiration, got lost, got trapped, and died of hypothermia. It was a very undignified way to go. My best friend, Zoe, rushed over the moment she got the news. When she identified my body, she was crying so hard she could barely breathe. "June! How could you have the heart to leave me like this?" "Even if Perry doesn't remember you, you still have me!" My soul was floating in mid-air, and hearing this made me cringe so hard my phantom toes curled. If I weren’t already stone-cold dead, I would have rushed over to cover her mouth. The police had already ruled it an accident. Why did she have to make it sound like I offed myself over a broken heart? Can’t a girl leave a little dignity behind? But clearly, Zoe didn’t think so. For some reason, she was convinced my death had something to do with Perry. She whipped out her phone and dialed his number. It rang for a long time before he picked up. "Hello?" A raspy male voice came through, sounding like he’d just been woken up. "Zoe? What is it? I just pulled an all-nighter filming..." "Perry," Zoe interrupted him, her voice thick with grief. "June is dead." Silence stretched on the other end of the line. Even as a ghost, I felt a tiny spark of hope. How would Perry react knowing I was dead? Would he be sad? Or would he think it was just the passing of someone insignificant? After all, at the reunion a few days ago, he had been so cold. When our classmates teased us, he simply asked in a chilly voice, "And you are?" The moment those words left his lips, the air in the room froze. Meeting his indifferent gaze, the courage I had spent hours building up instantly evaporated. I could only stammer, "No... nothing," and lower my head, terrified to look up again. Actually... I couldn't blame him. He was a top-tier celebrity now. It had been six years since graduation. It was a good thing he didn't remember me. Otherwise, I would always feel like I owed him an apology. "Perry, did you hear me?" Zoe cried into the phone when he didn't respond. "I said June is dead! She's gone!" Thud. A heavy sound came from the other side, like something dropping to the floor. Perry seemed to be gritting his teeth, his voice trembling. "...I don't believe you." The next second, the call was disconnected. Zoe, furious and sobbing, snapped a photo of my death certificate and texted it to him, only to find she’d been blocked. I wanted to comfort her, but my hand passed right through her shoulder. So, I just hugged her through the air. Don't cry, you silly girl. 2 Five days after my death, Zoe brought my ashes back to the city. I didn't have much family in the country. My only brother was on a business trip abroad and was currently on a flight back. When Zoe entered my apartment with the urn, my Ragdoll cat, Nugget, had been hungry for two days. I had left three days' worth of food, thinking I’d be back. I never thought I wouldn't make it. Zoe used to visit often, so Nugget recognized her immediately and pounced, meowing for food. Probably realizing I wasn't there, Zoe almost started crying again. She filled the bowl, and the cat dove in. Zoe went into the study to pack up my things. I was a full-time author, so I spent more time in the study than the bedroom. The desk was exactly how I left it. Next to the computer was a framed photo of our high school friend group. In the photo, Zoe was linking arms with me in the center. Perry stood on the far right. While I smiled at the camera, Perry’s eyes were looking sideways—at me. Zoe was currently furious at Perry. She packed everything else and reached for the frame last. Just then, a very full Nugget jumped up. Seeing Zoe reach for the frame, the cat launched a playful attack. Crash! The frame hit the floor, glass shattering everywhere. Zoe jumped. As she picked up the cat, she noticed something hidden in the backing of the broken frame. "Meow." Nugget realized he’d messed up and let out an apologetic squeak. Zoe bent down and pulled a letter out of the debris. She opened it. It was a love letter. Both Zoe and I were confused. The paper was yellowed with age, but the handwriting was sharp and clear. Every word was filled with a hidden, grand, unrequited love. [June, loving you in secret is too bitter. I don’t want to like you anymore.] Further down, in smaller print: [Just kidding. I lied.] When our eyes hit the bottom right corner, we both froze. The signature was Perry. The current A-list celebrity. And my high school desk-mate whom I had secretly loved for years. I suddenly remembered. Perry had given me this photo frame in our senior year. I had moved many times over the years, but this frame always came with me, sitting by my computer. I never dreamed it held such a secret. I thought back to that last phone call, Perry’s trembling voice saying "I don't believe you"... My heart ached violently. Do ghosts feel heartbreak? Zoe immediately pulled out her phone and unblocked Perry. But before she could dial, a notification popped up from Twitter. #PerryWright Suicide My hands shaking, I watched Zoe click the trending topic. A video from a verified gossip account had been posted ten minutes ago. An ambulance was parked outside a luxury villa. Security and staff were everywhere. The camera shook, catching a glimpse of a hand hanging off the stretcher. The fingers were pale, slender. Dark red liquid dripped from the fingertips, blooming like flowers on the pavement. [Perry Wright attempts suicide at home. Suicide note suspected to reference a lost love.] I stared at the words "Lost Love." My brain short-circuited. No. It shouldn't be like this. Why would he die? How could he die? In an instant, memories flashed through my mind like a carousel, finally stopping on a snowy winter day. Seventeen-year-old Perry stood at the bottom of the school steps, reaching his hand out to me. "It's a deal then, June." He smiled, his eyes curving into crescents, looking impossibly gentle. "If I become a big star, you have to come be my manager." A gust of wind blew, covering the world in white snow. It felt like a long dream. 3 "June? June!" I snapped back to reality. "Why are you zoning out? Perry is here!" I looked at Zoe’s concerned face and felt my eyes sting. It’s real. I was back. Back to the day of the reunion. I looked up and locked eyes with Perry. In that split second, I knew exactly what he was going to say— And you are? "Why are you crying?" The voice in my memory overlapped with the voice in my ear. I looked at him blankly. "What?" Unlike the last life, Perry didn't ask who I was. He frowned, his voice cold as he repeated himself. "Why are you crying?" He instinctively started to reach out, but realizing where we were, he froze. He turned his face away, his frown deepening. I touched my cheek. I hadn't realized tears were falling. "June?" Zoe noticed something was wrong. "Are you okay? Do you feel sick?" "No, nothing..." I took a deep breath, hastily wiping my face and pretending to rub my eyes. "I think an eyelash got in my eye." So awkward. Crying right in front of him. Perry must think I'm insane. I stole a glance at him. He was talking to Zoe. Zoe was a fashion editor now, the only one in the room who had any professional connection to Perry. That was why she could contact him when I died in my past life. The reunion had been planned for a month. Knowing Perry was coming, tons of people showed up. Even now, as food was served, countless eyes were glued to him. Some people are born protagonists. He just had to sit there to be the center of the universe. Separated by Zoe, I buried my head and ate quietly. Seeing him again was enough. In this life, if I don't die, he won't die. Halfway through the meal, the Class President walked over with a glass of wine, insisting on toasting Perry. "Mr. Superstar! We thought you wouldn't make it. You really honored us today!" Perry smiled politely, took a sip of his wine. The Class President’s gaze drifted to Zoe, then to me. He frowned slightly. "Are you... June Wells?" Suddenly, the other classmates who were toasting looked over. "It really is you!" The President got excited. "You transferred so suddenly senior year and cut off all contact. I didn't think you'd show up!" "Speaking of which, weren't you and our Superstar desk-mates back then?" I felt Perry’s gaze land on me. "Really?" I heard Perry’s voice, cool and detached, as if he didn't care I existed. "I forgot a long time ago." The food in my bowl had gone cold. I swallowed it. It tasted bitter. 4 In the winter of our senior year, I transferred schools suddenly due to family issues. One day we were planning our future; the next, I vanished. For the next few years, Zoe was my only link to my old life. She knew my situation but never brought it up. The following summer, Perry appeared on a talent show and won the championship. That summer, his name was everywhere. The face I knew so well was on every TV screen. His songs played in every mall. Overnight, I went from the girl sharing his desk to being one in a million fans following him on social media. And I could finally say out loud that the person I liked was named Perry Wright. College years were lonely. Several times, I opened Perry’s chat window, only to fall silent looking at the history. [June, where are you?] [June, you're late.] [June, what happened?] [June, it's snowing. Remember your umbrella.] Below that were dozens of missed calls and countless worried messages. The last message was sent nine hours later, at midnight. [June, I'm not waiting anymore.] That was New Year's Eve. We had a date. I stood him up. I typed and deleted, typed and deleted. Finally, my phone rang. It was him. I jumped, and seeing the caller ID, I instinctively answered. I heard his familiar breathing. My throat was tight. I opened my mouth but didn't know what to say. "June..." The person on the other end sounded like he was grinding his teeth. "Speak." "What does 'typing' for ten minutes mean?" I took a deep breath and whispered, "Are... are you okay?" The breathing stopped for a second. I had imagined our reunion a million times. But in the end, separated by a screen, his voice was ice cold. "Thanks to you, I'm doing great." After a long silence, I said dryly, "Then... I wish you the best. I hope you get famous. A smooth path to the stars..." Beep— He hung up. I stared at the screen, crying and laughing at the same time. Later, he did exactly what I wished for. He exploded in popularity. And my secret, grand high school crush came to a quiet end.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "386379", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel