2025 Is the sixth and last year that I like Zhou Yang.
I don't blame you. Are you lying to me? At least I got a response.
I hid you in the folds of youth for six full years. Hidden in the peeking eyes at the corner of the corridor, hidden in the words in the diary that I dare not send, hidden in every heartbeat pretending to meet by chance. I thought that as long as I was braver, I would be able to touch that out-of-reach light, but the words "you can consider" in exchange for my confession were like a bitter fruit wrapped in sugar. It took me a long time to taste the bitterness inside.
Later I found out that my script had been copied. She was out of my sight, playing the role I dreamed of opposite him. Those foreshadowings of fate that I thought, those heart-pounding moments that I treasured alone, turned out to be just my own chaos.
When the bubble of fantasy was burst by the truth, I realized that I was never his protagonist, just an insignificant background board in his youth. This grand and sour secret love could only end with my decent exit. You are a dream that I can never touch, a fantasy of youth that I cannot ask for.
Purpose: Analyze the sour aesthetics of BE's secret love, and show the true pain and growth of youthful love but not being able to do so
