Simon Lockwood must have been on a personal outing, dressed in understated, casual clothes. He wasn’t wearing his gold-rimd glasses. When Joanna Kennedy first looked over, for a fleeting mont, she saw the young man he once was.
The person next to him complained about sothing in a low voice, and Simon Lockwood turned his head to listen. He completely blocked the other person from view, so Joanna could only hear a clear, pleasant male voice. For so reason, it felt familiar, as if she had just heard it recently.
The lights dimd. Joanna hastily averted her gaze, lowered her head, and sank into her seat, trying to make herself as unnoticeable as possible.
The movie was an hour and forty minutes long, an arthouse romance. Joanna’s mind was preoccupied, and at first, she couldn’t get into it. But the lead actor and actress were simply brilliant.
Life is a script. So people numbly submit to it, while others dare to break free. This film wasn’t a romance in the traditional sense; it criticized love, but also accepted it.
The unique dimness of the theater offered a fleeting sense of security. Joanna watched intently. The shifting light from the screen reflected in her eyes, shimring like unshed tears.
Watching her, Simon Lockwood was struck by a profound and baffling sense of absurdity.
’She can be moved to joy or sorrow by a fictional romance, yet she can also toy with a person’s feelings so brazenly.’
A character in the movie recited a line: "Love is either your own hell or soone else’s."
A cruel glint flashed in Simon Lockwood’s eyes. ’If that’s true, then I certainly won’t be going to hell alone.’
As the movie was about to end, Joanna still wasn’t ntally prepared to face Simon Lockwood. She hunched over and slipped out through the other side of the aisle.
Simon Lockwood’s gaze followed her movents. The theater lights ca on just as she disappeared through the doorway. Simon stood up.
Sean Grant, not yet having had his fill, said, "There’s a post-credits scene. Let’s watch it before we go."
"Watch it yourself," Simon Lockwood said coolly.
Sean Grant was not happy and threw a mock punch at his departing back.
’What kind of guy does that? He drags out to a movie, then just ditches and leaves on his own. If I ever go out with Simon Lockwood again, I’m a dog!’
Outside the theater, Julie was nowhere to be seen. Joanna Kennedy took out her phone to text her.
A sumr shower had passed, and the weather in Aethelburg had turned cool overnight. Joanna Kennedy buttoned her jacket, one button at a ti, planning to wait for her assistant at the intersection.
She had only taken a few steps when she heard the sound of rapid footsteps behind her. The steps grew closer and closer, seemingly heading straight for her.
Joanna’s mind hadn’t even processed it, but her body reacted first, dodging to the side. She spun around to look.
It was a young woman she didn’t recognize.
"Are you looking for ?" Joanna asked, confused.
The girl wore thick, black-frad glasses. Upon hearing Joanna speak, her expression grew even more sinister. She raised the object in her hand high.
In the moonlight, the blade of a knife glinted with a cold, white light.
The color drained from Joanna’s face.
The girl was already lunging at her, spitting hatefully, "Joanna Kennedy, just die!"
’So she really was after .’
Joanna had been on her guard the mont she saw the girl’s twisted expression, and she started running before the girl could pounce.
’What kind of grudge is this? This person actually wants to kill ?!’
’If I really get stabbed to death just like this, it would be far too anticlimactic.’
Joanna was thankful she was wearing sneakers today, which kept her from being easily caught.
Seeing her run, her pursuer grew even angrier, chasing her while cursing. Joanna glanced back and saw the girl, holding the knife, trip and fall, only to scramble back up and continue the chase.
Joanna thought with a bitter laugh, ’Just how much does she hate ?’
It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call this a life-or-death chase.
Running like this wasn’t a solution. Joanna desperately tried to rember where there might be more people nearby when she suddenly heard the roar of a car engine.
The area was dim. Headlights flared to life, and in the blinding glare, Joanna squinted instinctively. She could only see a car door open and a tall, long-legged man running toward her, practically in a panic.
Seeing that the situation had turned, the assailant’s face went pale. She dropped the knife and fled in a panic.
Joanna still hadn’t processed what was happening when she was pulled into a tight embrace.
The man’s hot, ragged breaths filled her ears.
Simon Lockwood didn’t dare to imagine what would have happened if he’d been a second later. The horrifying scene from just a mont ago was still seared into his mind.
At the sa ti, he was flooded with a profound sense of regret. ’If Joanna hadn’t co to this movie, this wouldn’t have happened.’
’It was . I’m the one who put Joanna in danger.’
Joanna was also feeling the belated fear. She had been so focused on running that only now, having stopped, did she realize her legs had gone soft. Still, she forced herself to say, "I’m okay. She didn’t hurt ."
Simon Lockwood didn’t seem to hear her and continued to hold her.
Joanna said no more. She slowly raised her hands to hug him back, burying her head in his chest.
A few seconds later, Simon Lockwood made to let go. He pushed her slightly, but couldn’t move her.
Joanna’s voice was muffled. "Simon... you don’t hate that much, do you? You still like a little... right...?"
"..."
A small patch of his shirt fabric darkened with moisture. The slender, pale arms around his waist were trembling slightly. Simon Lockwood’s Adam’s apple bobbed twice. His throat was dry and hoarse, unable to form a single word.
He knew Joanna was crying.
On the quiet path, the night was dark. The car’s headlights shone on the tightly embracing figures, stretching their shadows long.
Joanna hadn’t wanted to cry, but between the terror of being chased by a stranger with a knife and his crushing silence, she couldn’t control herself. She began to cry harder, her voice thick with tears as she said, "The organizers couldn’t have moved my seat that far forward. It was you... you did it on purpose, didn’t you?"
"Every ti I’m in trouble, you’re always the first one there. Simon Lockwood... dare you say you don’t like !"
Overco with grief and a sense of injustice, Joanna had blurted out these words in a mont of heated emotion, as if she had used up every last bit of her courage.
She had no confidence in the words she’d just said. A long mont passed without a response.
Joanna’s tears fell silently. She tried her best not to look so pathetic. "Being nice to just gives false hope."
"I was wrong in the past, I’m sorry. So, is this how you’re getting your revenge on ?"
Giving a little hope, only to snuff it out with your own hands.
You save and help , again and again, and just when I let myself believe in it, you refuse to let get close.
The word "revenge" seed to touch a raw nerve for Simon Lockwood. His fingers, hanging at his side, twitched.
A ringing phone broke the silence. Simon Lockwood answered. It was unclear what was said on the other end, but his expression darkened. He turned his back to Joanna, said sothing in a low voice to the caller, and then hung up.
Joanna had also cald down. So things could only be said in the heat of the mont.
She pressed her lips together, wiped away her tears, and said to Simon Lockwood, "Thank you for what you did today."
Unable to think of what else to say, she thanked him again and turned to leave.
Simon Lockwood finally spoke. "They caught her."
Simon Lockwood stared at a strand of her hair. "She’s one of your anti-fans. She has a ntal illness and sohow got ahold of your schedule. That’s how she followed you here."
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