Beneath a star-filled night sky, the lights of countless hos gradually went out, and the bustling city slipped from noise into silence.
Inside a lounge bar, however, n and won were still throwing themselves into youth and life as if they knew no exhaustion.
A man nearing middle age sat in a corner at the edge of the bar counter.
He was dressed casually, with clean-cut features and a pair of rimless glasses that gave him a refined air.
On his wrist was a Breguet watch that had clearly seen many years of use.
Beside his beer bottle lay an equally old Prada wallet and the key to a rcedes-Benz.
In his left hand, he held an iPhone, watching a livestream of the UEFA Champions League final: Real Madrid versus Atlético Madrid, the Madrid derby on Europe's biggest stage.
His clean face carried the weight of age and experience.
His calm, almost numb eyes held a trace of lancholy, neither joyful nor sorrowful.
The noisy surroundings could not pull his gaze away.
The many beautiful won around him, alluring in all kinds of ways, failed to stir even the slightest interest in him.
Behind the bar, the owner, dressed in a trendy, fashion-forward style, leaned toward him and said.
"Lynn, two won tonight—both of whom I'd rate above seventy-five—have already been giving you hints. What's wrong with you? Sure, the Champions League final is great, but since you ca to my place, shouldn't you at least enjoy yourself properly?"
The man nad Lynn lifted his eyes and glanced at the bar owner, Mo Yuan.
He picked up his beer bottle, took a large gulp, and said, "Sione lost again. Real Madrid have their eleventh Champions League title."
Mo Yuan waved his hand, clearly uninterested in the final.
He leaned forward, placed one hand on Lynn's shoulder, and looked toward the young people moving their bodies on the dance floor.
"There are beautiful won over there. I've got alcohol here. And you've got stories. Tonight, you could invite one woman you like to take a free rcedes taxi ride, have yourself a good ti, and then tomorrow we can talk about the Champions League final. How does that sound? Otherwise, why did you dress yourself up so neatly and co here?"
Lynn looked at the n and won in the room, all reeking faintly of hormones and impulse.
So were lost in their own self-indulgence, ignoring everything around them.
So were enjoying party gas.
So were flirting, waiting for soone to finally break through that thin layer of ambiguity.
Others, emboldened by alcohol, were already sneaking in little acts of shalessness.
Behind this wild dance of demons, perhaps everyone had their own motives.
Or perhaps so of them simply wanted to vent the frustrations piled up from work and life.
Lynn lowered his head and laughed at himself.
Their own motives?
Wasn't he the sa?
He said to Mo Yuan, "I'm just used to it."
Used to dressing this way.
Used to leaving the house with all his "assets."
A famous Breguet watch. A rcedes key placed on the table.
Waiting for so inexperienced girl to throw herself at him.
Or perhaps eting a supposedly respectable woman who had her own standards for indulgence, the two of them hitting it off at once.
Not far away, a pretty girl in a short skirt was holding a drink and preparing to walk toward Lynn.
But the girl beside her grabbed her arm.
When the first girl looked confused, her companion cast a disdainful glance in Lynn's direction and loudly spoke.
"Don't be fooled by how decent he looks. He's nothing but trash wrapped in a pretty package! Hmph, what's so impressive about driving a rcedes that's more than ten years old? Why waste your drink on him? He's a stray dog who ca crawling back from abroad. Everything he has was left to him by his parents! Too bad his luck was awful—his parents died early! Now he's just a useless loser who cos here every day trying to trick won into bed!"
The young woman holding the drink stared in shock.
Her friend's words were harsh, almost as if they carried a hatred that cut down to the bone.
Quite a few people nearby burst into laughter.
Mo Yuan could not hear every word clearly, but he still flew into a rage.
As the owner of this place, hearing such vicious words from that girl was no different from watching soone deliberately provoke him on his own turf.
He raised his hand and pointed at the girl who had spoken so maliciously, just about to say that she would not be leaving tonight.
But Lynn placed a hand on his arm.
Lifting his head, he said expressionlessly, "She wasn't wrong at all."
Mo Yuan's raised hand imdiately sobered up the custors at that table.
Even the girl who had spoken looked a little uneasy now.
She knew perfectly well that the bar owner, Mo Yuan, and Lynn—the man she had just called a daily womanizer—were sworn brothers.
Seeing them obediently sit back down, Mo Yuan cursed under his breath.
"What the hell is wrong with her? Coming here every day trying to land so rich guy, acting like you're a king when she sticks to you, willingly letting n play with—"
"Mo Yuan, I'm leaving."
Lynn did not wait for Mo Yuan to finish venting.
He picked up his things and left.
...
He had not drunk much, so he drove ho in the rcedes his mother had given him years ago.
The apartnt Lynn rented was only a little over thirty square ters.
After returning ho, he turned on the sound system and played his favorite songs by Beyond.
He sat on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed, and picked up the ga controller in front of the television.
He repeated the sa entertainnt he had indulged in for more than ten years: playing Pro Evolution Soccer.
"Those hands that nothing can adorn,bringing warmth, always waiting behind ."
"Even if she nagged, she always cared."
"I never treasured it, and now I feel so guilty."
"Lost in music, she never approved,yet a mother's love never once gave way."
Listening to the familiar lody, Lynn's weathered face showed no expression.
chanically, instinctively, he controlled the gapad.
The lancholy in his eyes had already beco natural.
He stared at the television screen, watching the players under his control skillfully dribble the ball, link up with teammates, tear open the opponent's defensive line, create an excellent chance, and break through the opponent's goal.
Then he moved on to the next match.
At so point, Lynn's mind grew heavy, and drowsiness swept through his body.
The controller slipped from his hands and fell to the floor.
His head tilted to the side as he leaned against the bed and lost consciousness.
Light flickered from the television screen.
In the unlit room, Lynn, who sat directly facing the TV, was enveloped by its glow.
...
When Lynn woke again, he found himself lying flat on a bed.
After opening his eyes, he saw a scene both unfamiliar and familiar.
He sat up abruptly.
Slowly turning his head, he looked around the room he was in. The lancholy in his eyes turned into confusion.
A single bed.
This room looked as if it had been prepared for a student.
A single bed, a wardrobe, a computer desk, and a small bookshelf on the desk with books arranged neatly.
Football posters covered the wall.
Maradona.
Van Basten.
Romário.
Roberto Baggio.
Lynn could not help but muttered, "This is my ho. My ho in Brynmill."
He walked to the window and pulled the curtains open with both hands.
The sight before him left him utterly stunned.
Even though he had seen it countless tis before, seeing it again after so many years filled him with overwhelming emotion.
Looking down, he could see orderly rows of European-style houses.
In the distance, the coastal road was Oystermouth Road, with tiny cars moving along it.
Farther still, he could make out a blurred stretch of beach.
Beyond that was the endless sea.
Swansea Bay.
And in the southwest, beyond where his eyes could reach, lay the Bristol Channel.
The eyes that had seed filled with lancholy for more than a decade began to shine with fresh life.
He turned and looked at the electronic desk calendar on the computer table.
The date displayed on it was: 6-4-1996.
Suddenly, a beam of light caught the corner of his left eye.
He turn around.
There, floating in midair before him, was a set of cards.
The cards radiated a soft, seven-colored glow.
Almost subconsciously, Lynn reached out and grasped them in his hand.
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