Chapter 29: Best Friend
Moving into the dorm with Duyên made my life less lonely. There was a time when I had terrible period cramps, writhing in pain on the bed. It was Duyên who stayed by my side, even washing my clothes for me—something I wouldn't have dared to touch myself.
Duyên missed home too, but when I was feeling down, she sometimes chose to stay behind and keep me company instead of visiting her family. To me, Duyên was more than a friend; she was family, like a sister.
But that friendship… it had already slipped away. Some things are meant to fade naturally, no matter how much we wish to hold on.
We were back to being "normal" with each other, but there were things we could no longer talk about. Sometimes, I caught a distant look in Duyên's eyes.
With the start of the new academic year, I was now a third-year student. Returning to Hanoi, I told myself I would live a simple, happy life. Love? If it came, great. If not, whatever. I was still me—proudly single. It wouldn't kill me.
And I certainly wouldn't lower my own worth.
To me, effeminate guys held zero appeal. I had long grown accustomed to being called "ugly but arrogant." What a bunch of idiots—if they thought I was ugly, why did they even bother trying to flirt with me?
After my achievements in the last exam, I was used to people looking at me with admiration. I had to work hard—I couldn't let anyone mock my academic results.
Duyên was still as beautiful, graceful, and diligent as ever. Tường Vy hadn't changed either.
The person I wanted to see the most was Mr Aunt.
Even after months of summer break, I still couldn't erase his image from my mind.
During lectures, I sat in class, just waiting for the period to end. During breaks, I lingered around the faculty office, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mr Aunt. But he was nowhere to be seen.
Finally, at the end of the afternoon, I saw Mr Aunt in the hallway. Excited, I greeted him,
"Hello, sir."
Mr Aunt simply nodded and walked away quickly.
I stood there, watching him go, feeling an indescribable sense of disappointment. Staring at his back, I felt an overwhelming emptiness. I couldn't even cry.
This man—sometimes close like family, sometimes impossibly distant. There was always an invisible wall around him, one no one could cross.
He was isolating himself.
Something motherly inside me wanted to reach out to him, but my rational side held me back. I wasn't confident enough—because, after all, he didn't need me.
Just as I was lost in thought, a voice called from behind, startling me.
"Vũ Trang Vân."
I turned around to see "Golden Prize" grinning widely. Was he trying to scare me to death? I frowned.
"What are you doing here, kid?"
He glanced in Mr Aunt's direction, who had already disappeared, then smirked at me.
"You forgot already? I got in with a direct admission. I'm in the Talent Bachelor's Program."
He emphasized the last part: "The Talent Bachelor's Program."
Annoying.
In front of others, he always acted humble and polite. But in front of me? Arrogant as hell.
I had to bring him down a peg. Better yet, bury him under my heels.
"Oh? I thought you wouldn't even pass your graduation exam. Not bad, huh?"
He burst out laughing, then quickly walked away.
"I gotta go borrow some books from the library. I'm staying in the men's dorm, by the way. If you ever miss me, feel free to drop by."
Excuse me?
Who did he think he was? Who did he think I was?
Like hell, I'd ever go to the men's dorm just to find him.
Vũ Trang Vân had never once chased after a guy, and I wasn't about to start now.
Besides, his house was in Văn Quán—pretty close by. Why the hell was he even staying in the dorms?
Absolutely ridiculous.
That evening, I dragged my heavy body, burdened with complex thoughts, back to the dormitory. Lying down for a while didn't make me feel any better, so I abruptly got up and said to Duyên:
— Let's go for some snails and drinks.
Duyên looked at me for a moment, then nodded slightly. She still understood me best—seeing me dazed all day, my face full of emotions, she must have sensed something.
So, Vy, Duyên, and I walked to Phùng Khoang to eat snails. Raising my first shot of liquor, I toasted Duyên:
— Unrequited love is really unbearable, isn't it?
Duyên nodded slightly, remained silent for a moment, then lifted her glass and drank. The well-behaved, disciplined Duyên had now been dragged into drinking because of me. Vy didn't drink, only sat there picking at the snails and eating fruit. The more I drank, the more I wanted to talk—I was feeling miserable, but I also wanted to share the pain that Duyên had endured, the feeling of loving someone in silence. Only those who are experiencing unrequited love can truly understand each other, can truly confide in one another. And even more so, Duyên and I were both in love with the same person. I drank and spoke, voicing the thoughts and feelings of both of us.
— We know it's painful, but we still can't forget. That cold-hearted guy is absolutely infuriating.