Different trajectories hide similar heartbeats.
Maybe it was the half-rubber handed to me from the back row of the classroom, with unspoken temptation; maybe it was the soft sound of coffee cup rims clinking against each other when working overtime late at night, which filled the office building with warmth; or maybe it was the overlapping shadows in front of the mirror backstage after the spotlight was turned off, turning the noise into a whisper.
These fragmented moments are like secrets carefully stored in archives. They are not dramatic, but in their own time and space, they shine with a light that only they can understand.
Disclaimer: Lily's short films are both sad and sweet. For details, please refer to the title. Although the names are the same, the characters in the stories are different. Beware of the bad. This is the first time the author is writing. Please forgive the writing style (??ω??)??
Intention: Love yourself well