Nine Years a Shadow, One Night a Firework
At the moment of the truth-or-dare game, my boyfriend was asked what I resembled, and he laughed derisively.
"A shadow, I suppose—impossible to shake off."
Laughter erupted around me instantly, and the gazes cast upon me were filled with mockery and disdain.
My boyfriend handed me a glass of wine and, with his other hand, patted my head—a gesture I once found warm and intimate but now only found revolting.
I gently avoided his hand, speaking calmly but resolutely, "I need to go to the restroom."
Without much hesitation, I took my phone out of my pocket and dialed my mentor's number.
"Hello, Professor. Regarding the overseas project you mentioned before... if possible, please consider including me."