On his first day as a classmate in the first grade of high school, Wang Lujie drew a cat with fried hair in his notebook and wrote next to it: "The new classmate seems to be very noisy."
Zhang Hanrui grabbed it and added a line: "The new deskmate doesn't seem to know how to smile."
Later, there were countless little hearts next to the cat.
Then he smiled, just to him.
In his sophomore year of high school, Zhang Hanrui held Wang Lujie's hand backstage at an art performance: "If one day I stand on a stage with thousands of people, will you be in the audience?"
Wang Lujie said nothing, but smiled at him again and pointed the camera's viewfinder at him.
It was the most silent promise he had ever received.
They thought that youth was long enough to be admitted to the same university together, form a band together, and sing together on a stage with thousands of people. Wang Lujie said: "You sing the lead and I will sing the harmony."
Zhang Hanrui said: "No, half for one person."
Until one morning, there was only an empty seat on the desk and a torn photography album. They are all the same person - the tense jawline during vocal practice, the profile of the face humming a melody during lunch break, the way he sings with his eyes closed on stage... There are six words written on the last page:
"Finish the song for me."
Six years.
Zhang Hanrui went from a campus singer to a music festival with thousands of people, and became the youngest lead singer of Luster. The last line of every song is always the same - "Did you hear it?"
On the day of the class reunion, the box door was pushed open. A man carrying a camera bag stood at the door, dusty and dusty, as if he had been on the road for a long time.
Zhang Hanrui's microphone fell to the ground and made a harsh buzz.
Everyone was making noises, but only two people's eyes traveled through their entire youth.
"Back then you..."
"I heard it," Wang Lujie said, "I was there in every scene. I just... Didn't dare to let you know."
Later, they signed a designated guardianship agreement, and in the guardian's column, they solemnly wrote the name that had been engraved in their hearts when they were ten years old.
It turns out that loving someone can transcend time, misunderstandings, and all the times that you didn't dare to speak.
The person who finished the harmony for you never left from the age of sixteen to twenty-six.
You are my number one, whether as a friend, lover or guardian. From the age of sixteen to twenty-six, nothing has changed.
Intention: to transcend all the years of not daring to speak, and finally determine each other as the only number one for the rest of my life
