When everyone hides their age and job and sheds their social identity, what are we left with?
If you removed your job title, company, and resume, what kind of person would you want others to recognize you as?
You are a woman working in overseas investment banking. You've spent years studying abroad, have a decent resume and a respectable income, and work from nine in the morning to nine at night. You steadily play the part of an adult amid meetings, clients, Excel spreadsheets, and messages that never stop coming. Then you receive an invitation to join a dating show that runs for twenty-one days.
The show's rules are simple:
Eight guests, four couples who have already broken up.
After moving in, no one is allowed to reveal their age, occupation, or which guest is their ex, X.
So when you first meet, nobody knows which company you work for or what school you attended. And no one knows that the man sitting not far away, who seems to have nothing to do with you, is actually your ex from five years ago.
You can only get to know each other from scratch.
Some people remember what you were like five years ago.
Some people only know who you are now.
And on the fifth day of knowing you, someone sits on the living room rug, looks up at you, and asks:
"You like spending time with me. Is that the kind of liking you feel for lots of people?"
"Are you this way with me because you're just kind to everyone, or because it's me?"
"When you look at him, it's not quite the same as when you look at everyone else."
"If taking the initiative doesn't get you the outcome you want, will you still do it?"
"I'm not that generous."
This is entirely fictional. If anything seems familiar, please don't attack the author.
About updates: I've already built up a 200,000-character manuscript and am still revising it bit by bit. I'll keep updating and finish the story, so please give it a like and add it to your collection!
Theme: Life isn't a rehearsal. Every day is a live broadcast.
It's a cute little butterfly ~ 😭