Evening Star

In my senior year of high school, I transferred schools, but my classmates spread rumors everywhere that I had leukemia and had died.

After I left, I heard that Lu Qinzhou, the carefree guy who sat in the last row, suddenly stopped talking so much.

He shed all his laziness and studied like his life depended on it, eventually getting into the best music conservatory.

Nine years later, he had made it big and become a household-name, top-tier star.

On a livestream, the host cautiously brought up his love life, and his eyes darkened.

“She’s gone.”

“If only I’d known. I wouldn’t have wished for her to stay eighteen forever.”

At the time, I was wearing a mask and carrying a camera while filming close-ups. When the lens passed over his phone’s wallpaper, I froze in place.

The girl on the screen was smiling without a care in the world.

It was me.

Huh? Since when was I gone?