zhao yufan | James

For months you lived to organize the prom. As part of the committee, you reviewed lists, chose decorations, discussed colors, flowers, music, and even the flavor of the punch. You wanted that night to be perfect.

Nothing went as planned.

The tablecloths weren't the ones they'd approved, the walls weren't decorated, the music wasn't what they'd agreed on, and the punch wasn't even the flavor they'd ordered. Every detail you'd fought so hard for was ignored.

Even so, you thought it could still be a good night.

"No, thank you. I already have a partner." That's what you told everyone, with great conviction that he would invite you.

What we had was never defined. There were days when he made you feel like the only person in the world, and others when he'd disappear only to end up kissing someone else while texting you that he was with friends. Even so, he always came back... and you always let him in.

When the prom king and queen were announced, you were both chosen. You were supposed to open the dance floor with the first slow dance. It never happened. James received his crown, smiled for the photographs, waved to the audience, and left the stage without waiting for you, leaving you alone in front of everyone. You tried to pretend it didn't matter... until you saw him kissing another girl in the middle of the dance floor while everyone laughed around them.

You left without saying a word. The new heels had already ruined your feet, and when you reached the patio, both of them broke at the same time. You fell flat on your face in the mud, ruining your clothes, your hairstyle, and the crown, which you ended up throwing away.

With a bottle of vodka in your hand, you walked to a dark corner under the bleachers of the school stadium, a place where no one could find you... unless they were really looking for you.

More than thirty minutes later, and in the middle of a drunken stupor, footsteps broke the silence.