meteor person
“Do you know who your meteor person is?”
“No… what is that?”
“It’s the person who, if I were to tell you that tomorrow a giant meteor was going to come hurling down to Earth — that everything you ever knew would come to an end, it’s the person who you would chose to spend your last moments with.”
”I see…”
“Is there anyone who comes to mind?”
”I don’t know… maybe…”
“If I told you, that this prophecy were true — but the one condition is that your meteor person would have to choose you as well … would that change your thinking?”
”What do you mean? What if they don’t choose me?”
”Then you would die alone, without anyone by your side.”
”How cruel…”
Chao sat on this conversation for a few days. The words echoing in his brain — the person who you would chose to spend your last moments with.
Was there someone he loved enough? And would that someone write down his name on their ballot when the time came to vote?
At only 16, the concept of love was still young, blossoming, and filled with questions. The weighty, gooey feeling of liking someone so much, caring about someone so much, to the point where their happiness and existence meant more to him than his own…
It only happened once, from a distance. His quiet loyalty to a classmate who had helped him during a dark period in his thoughts… but nothing meaningful ever followed — and he had since concluded that he was willing to bear the pain of his unrequited love in silence.
But, the thought occurred to him — was there another parallel universe where if in fact, this meteor would come falling — a version where she would also choose him?
Bai sat at her bedroom desk, perched over her calculus homework — feeling resigned but determined to complete it.
As a senior with only a few months left of high school — she felt bittersweet about the timing, the inevitable closing of a chapter that felt like it had only just begun.
Marking the final answer to her problem set, she leaned back in her chair and awarded herself a moment to daydream, guilt-free.
Reflecting on the last four years… a sense of disappoint started rising within her. Had she really made the most of this time?
Despite being ranked the highest in her class, she felt hollow counting all of her achievements. Her nose, always buried in a book, left her without many friends or meaningful relationships.
She thought back on the one time she dated a boy during her junior year — the last time she felt complete. The last time her soul felt comforted in the warmth of another.
But after 6 quick months, the boy had abruptly changed his mind. He had his sights set on a prettier target, and attempted to let her down easy — as easy as one can manage letting a love know that their love was no longer there.
The wounds from this stung, and deepened the scars on her young heart. Scars from a line of men, some more significant than others — but enough to foster a permanent questioning of her self worth.
In the silence of her room, aimlessly twirling her pen — Bai decided to just let bygones be — to stop torturing herself with questions of what could have been.
That Thursday, three days after their conversation on meteor persons — Chao went back to the library to seek further understanding.
Entering the usually empty space, Chao greeted and asked the librarian if they could continue their chat.
“Of course.”
Ms.Chun looked at Chao with curious eyes — open, sparkling, and full of compassion. The gaze of her wisdom provided comfort, as if to say, “this is a safe space child, what is it your heart wants to know?”
“Can I ask you … if this meteor thing is real, how do you know if someone will choose you, too?”
Turning the question over in her mind, she looked off into the distance and bit her bottom lip as she carefully considered her next words.
“Maybe that’s part of the risk — I’m not sure if you ever truly know. It is only at the moment of decision do one’s true colors show.”
“Isn’t it sad then? That someone might choose you, but end up dying alone because you did not return the favor?”
With a soft smile, Ms.Chun’s eyes crinkled at their corners —
“Chao — is there someone you feel is your meteor person, but are afraid you are not theirs?”
Coming home from school at 7pm that Thursday night, Bai threw her bag on the living room sofa and sat next to it, letting herself sink into the worn in leather.
Normally done by 5pm, the Chess Club had their monthly meeting to discuss which tournaments were next on their roster and ran late.
Letting out a sigh, Bai wondered if life would ever be more than club meetings and homework. Sitting in a trance, her mind drifted to alternate versions of reality…
Until her mother called out to her to help set the table for dinner.
“Bai! Please! Can you get the table ready for dinner?”
Bai responded with a partially-committal “Ok!”
She dragged herself up from the sofa, and proceeded to the dining room to lay out placemats, napkins, and chopsticks.
When dinner started, Bai took a seat next to her younger sister and proceeded with the nightly ritual.
“How was school today?” her mother asked — despite being on autopilot, for Bai the question held more weight than normal.
“It was good! I was captain of the math team and we won first place today against Tech High!”
"That’s fantastic Qiu!” Bai’s mother said, with pride reflecting in the highlight of her eyes.
Bai sat quietly, focused on eating her steamed broccoli with full intention of not saying a word.
“Bai? How about you?” her mother prodded
Pushing the vegetables around her plate, Bai let the silence linger before answering.
“It was ok. I don’t know. There’s another exam next week. Not that it matters…”
Her mom’s eyebrow raised — half with optimism, half with concealed concern — “Ok! Make sure to study and take care of your sleep beforehand… you have not been the best with that lately”
“Sure.” Bai replied, with an emptiness and aloof candor.
Unsure of how best to navigate the dismay in Bai’s tone, her mother exclaims
“Bai! You got accepted and will attend the best university in the country. You need to do well. Focus on the end goal.”
“Ok…” Bai replies — with a feeling of doubt and uncertainty growing in her heart
Chao pondered on the librarian’s question for a moment, before answering reluctantly
“Yes… well, maybe… there is someone I think of, but I don’t know if they think of me”
Ms.Chun nods in silent agreement — perhaps because she understands the feeling, or because she empathizes with the vague feeling of the unknown.
“Would you be willing to risk dying alone to find out?”
Chao pauses, searching his mind for any signal on the answer. Dying alone? That seemed obviously not ideal. But how about sitting with the feeling of never knowing?
For a moment, his mind drifted away to a special memory — one that was permanently etched into his consciousness.
It was that one October morning, when he was seriously considering ending things. To let his legacy be left in the dust. His self-contempt reaching peaks far too high, he accepted the meaninglessness to continue. The feelings of inadequacy tormented him to no end, and with no brighter future in sight — he arrived at the conclusion that life were better to move on without him.
Instead of walking into school as normal, he decided to cut class and kill time at the nearby park, weighing his mortality.
At which point, Bai walked in and sat at the park bench adjacent to his.
After dinner, Bai helped gather the plates and rinsed them in the sink. Her sister was quick to return to her bedroom, and her mother was collapsed on the living room sofa watching her regular nightly shows.
In the kitchen alone, Bai’s mind wandered to thinking of her father — a giant question mark, but one that loomed over her constantly.
When Bai was 6, her father left the family. Two years after her younger sister was born, he had made the decision that being a father to them was no longer his top priority.
There was no closure, no explanation, no understanding. Over the years, Bai’s mother constantly spewed all kinds of conspiracies — but there was never any enough evidence to prove or deny any claims. Eventually it became too tiring to speculate on the truth, and it was just easier for Bai to tell herself that he was already dead.
Yet, 12 years later, Bai rinsed the dinner plates with a yearning to understand him dancing in the back of her mind.
The trail of usual questions popped in — “Did he leave because of me?”, “Was there something wrong with me that made him decide we were not worth it?”, “Why doesn’t dad love me?”
Scrubbing the last of the dishes, she laid them out on the rack to dry and meagerly paced up the stairs back to her bedroom.
In the fog of his memory, Chao recalls the odd feeling of acceptance and comfort with Bai sitting less than 5 feet away.
They sat in the company of each other’s silence, until Bai’s lips parted to break the atmosphere.
“Hey — you also go to Science High right?” she turned to him as she asked the question, with an inviting gaze
“Yea” Chao promptly replied
“What are you doing here? Don’t you have class?”
“Yes… I guess I could ask the same for you”
Bai smiled at Chao, and after a pause said, “I’m escaping from the meaninglessness of it all”
Now intrigued, Chao put Bai in the focal point of his vision and tilted his head to take her in. She was a pretty upperclassman, two years his senior, and someone who he never expected to get contact with up close.
Chao briefly took pleasure in admiring the contours of her face — he mentally saved a photo for later.
“What do you mean?”
Bai looked at Chao with a flirty smile and prolonged eye-contact, momentarily peering into the depths of his soul.
“I mean, that this is all pointless. School. Work. Life.”
Chao felt slightly disturbed, seeing that someone as graceful as Bai could harbor these same thoughts. The unexpected mirror to his consciousness suddenly appearing in her silhouette.
“I know what you mean… how do you continue then?”
Bai licked her lips, and looked up to the clouds above with an earnest gaze — “I guess, I want to see if I can write a version where I’m happy with the ending.”
Closing the bedroom door behind her, Bai was drawn to her bed and laid down in it, staring at the ceiling.
She felt lonely, her mind wandering for memories to help ground her.
In the stillness of the moment, her breathing the only sound in the room — she thought about that one October morning where she met another lost soul. ‘Chao’ was his name, she recalled.
He was a sophomore, two years her junior — someone who also felt as disenfranchised as she did on where fate would take them.
She remembered sitting down at a park bench near him, that same morning where she was questioning everything. Her purpose, her drive, her meaning to exist.
They had started chatting, and gazing into his amber eyes, she felt connected to his spirit on an unearthly plane. The seeking to understand present in his eyes, Bai felt comfortable sharing her unfiltered thoughts with him.
"How do you do that?” she recalls Chao asking her.
Bai had shrugged sheepishly, “I don’t know. But I know it’s possible — to create something in this life, that feels right to you. I want to keep looking for that until I find it.”
Chao nodded, at which point Bai noticed his broad shoulders and well formed posture. He is quite attractive, she thought — with the naive charm of someone who had yet to grow into their features.
“Even if you feel lost? Even if you feel it’s a hopeless wasteland?”
Letting the question sit in the air, Bai looked at Chao with a newfound curiosity and sense of familiarity. She felt the urge to sit next to him, to close their distance. And she did.
Scooting over to his bench, Bai sat next to him and gently reached for his left hand. She sandwiched it between the warmth of her palms.
“Life is funny…” she starts, “it has a way of making you question everything you know — and the meaning of it all. But I think, even if your life has been nothing but disappointment up until now, that there is a way to turn it around. To find your own truth, and die happy knowing you’ve found it.”
Chao — blushing at the sudden intimacy, let her words wash over him. Her nurturing presence made him feel less alone, despite her effectively being a stranger.
In the library sitting across from Ms.Chun, Chao finally managed to find his words —
“I guess I would be willing to find out… at the cost of dying alone. But I fear that the hope is futile, and that I would most likely die alone anyway”
Ms.Chun stirs her tea, without a word. She is suddenly somber, yet a light still shines over her. At more than double Chao’s age, he looks to her as a guide with hope that she can help console his fears.
Reflecting on her own life, Ms.Chun questions — at 34, single and without a partner — if she would be the best person to answer Chao’s inquiry. Keeping her own suffocating fears of dying alone at bay, she felt that she had a long way to go as far as “sorting oneself out” went. Still, she dug her brain for a morsel of useful advice that she could lend him.
“I think that’s what love is. To commit to the unthinkable, even if you’re unsure if they feel the same way. Without risk, without the need for courage, love wouldn’t be worth much anyway — don’t you think?“
Bai remembers sitting in the quiet for a while with Chao. Still, cupping his hand between her palms — a small bit of perspiration adding a layer to their mutual embrace.
Before their park bench meeting, they had never talked. On occasion, Bai recalled seeing Chao nearby the gym locker rooms afterschool before swim team practice — but nothing besides a fleeting glance here and there.
Generally shy, Bai was not the type to be talkative or forward with making friends — but there was something in meeting Chao’s gaze that forced her guard down. Sitting so close to him now, she could see more clearly into his void.
“I like that…” Chao finally responds — “what do you think your truth is?”
A knocking feeling came upon Bai’s heart — it started beating fast on its own accord, as if to signify, “this is important! What you say next is important!”
No one truly cared to ask Bai what she was looking for — and in this moment she felt caught off guard, without a fallback.
Slowly… the words eventually tumbled out
“I think… my truth… what I’m looking for… is proof that I am lovable, and that my existence has meaning — even if I accomplish nothing outside of the mundane.”
“How many times have you been in love?” Chao asks candidly, putting Ms.Chun on the spot
Looking down with a grin, while covering her mouth with her left hand, Ms.Chun appears to be lost in a distant memory. Flipping through the pages in her mind, she concludes — “Ah, maybe three times or so…”
Three? Chao wondered — that seems like an awful lot! His heart had yet to move on past his first, the idea of having this happen twice more seemed unbearably daunting.
“Does that mean, you’ve had your meteor person change over time?”
“Yes… you could say that”
“So, a meteor person can change — and in one lifetime you can possibly have many meteor persons? With all of them being the right answer at different times?”
Ms.Chun chuckled, as if coming to the same realization in that moment — “Yes, exactly… a meteor person can change within the same lifetime. But at any given moment, you only can have the one.”
Chao puzzled over this… if today he felt someone might be his meteor person, but tomorrow he might feel differently… and vice versa for them! How could he ever vote with any faith who his meteor person would be?
“Nothing outside of the mundane…” Chao slowly repeated her words.
Bai felt oddly exposed, sharing her deepest truth out in the open, making her vulnerable to this 16 year old boy’s judgement. She firmly squeezed his left hand before setting it down on his lap, and patting it on the top.
“Yes… there’s a lot of pressure to achieve, to accomplish, to be better than… but at the end of the day, when we die — we all get buried in the same 6ft hole. There is no meaning to any trophies then.”
Scanning his eyes to see if the idea registered, Bai added —
“…but life can still have meaning, should still have meaning, even if you have no trophies, right?”
Chao, deep in thought, looked off straight ahead into the distance. It seemed as if he wasn’t fully there — his consciousness having traveled to another faraway place entirely.
In this ephemeral moment, Bai cherished sharing this space with Chao. Despite only being their first introduction, she inexplicably felt right at home next to him. Their chance encounter on these park benches feeling more destined with each passing minute.
“Thank you — what was your name?”
“Bai.”
“Thank you Bai. I think you just helped me figure something out. I’m Chao by the way.”
“Anytime.” and with that, Bai took a greedy stretch — fanning out her arms and legs with a big yawn before standing up to leave. She took one last look at Chao, his eyes were now more lucid and brighter with life. Knowing he was younger and of his journey ahead, Bai felt a wave of empathy wash over her.
Without any good reason, she was drawn to Chao — to be close to this particular human at this particular moment. Before saying goodbye, she pulled him into a tight embrace and softly spoke into his right ear — “Good luck Chao.”
Before releasing the hug, she gave him a short peck on the cheek — and then she was on her way.
“So, what do you think Chao? Do you have a meteor person?”
Still trying to wrap his head around the concept — even though in his heart he did know the answer — Chao shrugged in reply.
Fondly looking back on the park memory, Chao recalled the ending. Before leaving him alone on the bench, Bai tightly hugged him and after whispering good luck — parted him with a soft kiss on his left cheek. Subconsciously, his hand raised to the same spot, letting his fingertips run over where her warmth had once grazed.
That day, Bai’s words stirred up waves in the ocean of Chao’s heart. Up until then, he had felt frustrated with life, with a growing resentment of what it meant to be “successful” in society. His father, a top-class Lawyer, had constantly put pressure on Chao and his younger brother to excel.
Living in the shadow of his father was not a destiny Chao wanted to fulfill — as if being born into this world against his will wasn’t bad enough. To have no choice but to participate in the game of life, and then have his father hawking over him — dictating to him exactly the steps to take, laying out for him the pole to measure his self-worth against.
There was a lack of agency, through and through, and after 16 years it drove Chao mad.
It didn’t help that his younger brother, two years his junior, had become an overachiever — performing nearly at the same level as Chao did despite the gap. Somehow, Chao found himself hidden behind yet another shadow — would this ever change?
Maybe Bai was right — maybe it wasn't too late for him to write his own ending. But what exactly did he even want?
In a haze, as her eyes slowly adjusted to the ceiling fan spinning above — Bai settled back into the reality of her bedroom. Tallying on her fingers, she counted 6 months between today and that chance encounter last October.
That day, for the first time in four years — Bai ruined her perfect attendance record. She felt suffocated by the routine, the endless competition, and the constant fear of lack — of being less than. Normally she would swallow the feeling, and bury it, under the same rug next to her father. But that morning, her feet took on a mind of their own and forced her to walk in a different direction.
Meeting Chao and sharing company together in a moment of existential crisis felt like a crazy coincidence marked by fate! Bai marveled at the timing — as if the universe knew the right moment for two souls to eclipse, just when they were about to arrive at a tipping point.
Bai felt happy about the events that day. Her mother? Not so much.
The school had notified her that Bai missed the first period of class. Upon opening the front door, Bai was greeted by her mother sitting with her arms crossed on the sofa. In short, the lecture grew loud, then louder, with her mother's face growing redder as she delivered each blow.
"How dare you do this to me?"
"Did I not raise you better?"
"I am so disappointed in you."
"You are just like your father!"
Standing there speechless, and nodding silently along — the words barely registered as Bai retreated within herself, crawling deeper into the hole to wait out the rest of the storm.
After coming home the same day as their park bench meeting, Chao took refuge in his bedroom. Locking the door behind him, he threw his bag on the desk chair and took a center seat on the dusty-beige carpeted floor.
Dad is going to be home in 3 hours, Chao thought — he was determined to come to a conclusion by then. A conclusion to weighing his mortality, to possibly come out on the other side instead of allowing darkness to swallow him whole.
What a weird day it was — only 10 hours earlier he woke up that morning convinced it was for the last time. As the sun started to set behind the clouds, Chao closed his eyes and sighed.
What is your truth? the question waited with baited breath — to find his own answer, he would be forced to face his shadow. After years of being belittled by his father and brother, Chao could hardly recognize himself. Sitting with the feeling now, he looked inward to try and outline his shape.
His shadow, at first appearing grey and murky — was vaguely spread out behind his eyelids like an endless sea. Concentrating harder, he dove under the first layer until he could not sink any lower.
At the bottom, his shadow — in its purest form — laid dormant, curled up in a fetal position. He reached out to it, and upon making contact with the dark matter, watched as black wisps seemed to morph together into his skin.
Standing in the doorway of the living room, Bai’s hearing faded out as her mother continued to pelt her with aggressions.
“Did you hear me?”
Bai gave a slow, hollow nod.
“I am not joking Bai! You are just starting your final year of high school, you better not make any stupid mistakes now! University applications are just around the corner.”
Bai had fixed her stare into a far corner of the room, letting her vision blur into vague shapes.
“Keep up your grades! You don’t listen to me and you’ll be sorry! And don’t try to date any silly boys now. That’s just a waste of time. Men are a waste of time.”
Upon hearing reference of silly boys Bai immediately winced. Her mind flashed back to May, to the same day her then-boyfriend broke up with her and turned into her ex.
...
Flooding with sadness, Bai came home in tears. After entering through the back door, the weight of her legs and heart were too heavy to carry further — and she collapsed into a pool on the kitchen floor.
Hearing the loud thud, followed by waves of wailing — Bai’s mother entered from the dining room and witnessed the scene. Up until that day, Bai had kept the relationship a secret. Not wanting to open the door to discussion on men and love, she kept her mother in the dark.
An effort, proved futile in that moment. At the very end, the truth came to the surface and her mother found out all the same. Shaking her head, scorn showed all over the creases of her mother’s face. For her, it was as if any rejection by men towards Bai translated as a direct insult to her pride — and only served as another painful reminder for what had happened 12 years prior.
“Bai… you need to understand. Boys, men, they are all the same. In the end, most will leave you feeling sad and alone. Accept this lesson now. You do not have time to waste on distractions, getting into University is the only thing you should care about.”
...
Men are a waste of time
The words echoed deep into the recesses of her mind.
The instinctual part of Bai’s brain pleaded her to keep quiet — to not say the following — but against her will, the bitterness seeped through
“You’re just saying that because dad left you.”
Stillness. Like watching a fall happen in slow motion, in the moment just before gravity takes over, here they stood in that in-between space of floating and sinking. Bai understood immediately that there was no undoing to this — and had successfully pushed her mother over the edge.
However, her mother had tied a rope to Bai and dragged her along the way down.
“I can’t believe you came out of me. I cannot believe I am your mother. That my own child would say such disgusting words to me. Are you really my daughter?”
On his next exhale, Chao opened his eyes and let his gaze adjust to the lights in his room. Looking around, as if he were observing the environment of an unknown specimen, he made note of all the things that felt alien:
Stacks of unopened college prep books, each claiming its own variety of a #1 ranking
Framed honors awards with artificially printed autographs
A handful of plastic gold medals from past swimming competitions
and most peculiar of all — a family portrait taken when Chao was 8 years old. His father is featured wearing a dark navy suit, standing behind him and his brother with a hand on each shoulder. Chao’s mother, the only person in the photo to attempt a smile, is wearing a cream colored ensemble that nearly blends her into the background. The overall tone of the portrait appears somber, as Chao and his brother seem to compete with each other on who can best mimic their father’s thousand-yard stare.
Looking at the portrait, Chao felt nothing inside — and was as indifferent to it as if it were a stranger’s family photo altogether.
There seemed to be something missing here. A certain warmth, a certain quality of humanness that was missing from his life. How long had he’d gone without realizing it?
Reminiscing, Chao revisited the distinct memory of the day he placed 11th in a swimming competition. After a near perfect season, he felt immense pressure to excel for this last race of the year. Upon taking position on his block, he prayed that ol’ reliable adrenaline would help him deliver.
But that day things were different.
...
The starting signal came and went — and as other swimmers dove straight into the pool, Chao found himself still hovering.
What are you waiting for?
Suddenly having an out of body experience, he then watched himself dive into the water and swim. His body was not his own, these movements were not his own — he was only a mere spectator, lacking control over anything.
Finally coming to, his spirit and body reconnected as he climbed out of the pool. With his heart in his stomach, he anxiously paced to meet his parents in the bleachers after the race.
His mother was quick to give him a hug, while saying a series of half-heartedly encouraging remarks.
...
“Isn’t that right dear?”
Chao will never forget his dad’s response, or rather — lack of. Refusing to even look at Chao, his father stood up in silent protest and started walking towards the car.
He had nothing to say, to his less-than son.
Together they plummeted to the very bottom. Beyond the abyss, they landed with a harsh crash in the darkness. Here, they laid broken side-by-side.
In an attempt to protect herself — Bai’s mother reopened the same wounds that were buried within her. Guilt started bubbling up to the surface — but pride was a powerful thing, and it only caused the pain to run deeper.
“You are so selfish and wrong! Sometimes, I really wonder if you are my child. I look at you and see that there are parts that I don’t like. I wonder where you get it from, I wonder ‘did she get that from me?’ and then I realize that you got it from him.”
Trying to escape, Bai scraped her nails as she attempted to climb up the walls towards hope. Her mother made sure that there would be no such thing.
“Bai, I’m really sorry to say it — but the reality is your dad left all of us. You, me, Qiu. He’s not here, because he chose not to be here.”
[WIP BELOW]
...
Red. Heat. Buzz. Throb. Sting. Quake.
Get out. Get out. Get out.
Following Bai upstairs to her bedroom, her mother imposed herself on her personal space. Ultimately deciding that this was the moment, Bai’s mother broke the tense silence with a deafening truth
“You know… he’s living happily with another family…”
FOR LATER:
(explain why Bai + Chao never talked after)
Bai got in trouble? out of school for 2 weeks? medical excuse?
Bai dream about father
Chao figuring out what he wants
He thought of her smell, the sweet jasmine perfume that had wrapped the air around them like vines to a tree.
None of these things that he was told were “important” actually were, and
[chao comes to realization, has chat with dad]
gleaming in a glass cabinet
a glass cabinet with trophies he’s long forgotten about, and the most peculiar of all — an antique wooden clock ornamented with hand carved flower petals and birds ticked the seconds away.
wrapped around his arm
like vines to a tree.
let the black wisps
wind around his arm
Often forced into a corner, his brother and father would dominate any chance for Chao to shine through.
anchored him to reality
with a new meaning to life. One that he would decide for himself.
The weight of his performance anxiety must have been trying to anchor him to the pool floor, as each stroke and kick in the water grew steadily slower.
Chao remembered timidly meeting his dad’s stare, feeling the weight of his own guilt and shame bury itself through him.
Yet, there was constantly a budding flame of resentment that refused to be put out. It flickered under the shadow of his lashes, and with a new glint in his eyes — Chao finally woke up to the realization that his father’s love had always been conditional.
He wanted to push the envelope further.
—-
must have acted as an achor
He had always pushed himself to meet the expectations of his dad — and despite believing that it was of his own accord, the true motivation was to avoid his quivering fear of the unknown. Of what would happen, if he were suddenly to be a have not.
After a long streak of first place wins, this tainted his perfect record. Up until this moment, Chao always did his best to excel — but he did not fully understand the consequence of what missing the mark would mean.
with a quivering fear in the background of what were to happen
Suddenly, his father looked at him differently, with a glaze over his eyes.
Wearing a furrow in his brow — his dad regretfully uttered, “Son, you were not at your best today. That’s really a shame. You must work harder, and do better next time.”
Finally coming to the realization now that his father’s love was conditional, he wanted to push the envelope further.
while also a growing consistent flame of resentment towards
But don’t act like you don’t know
each claiming its own variety of a #1 ranking
“Bai. Don’t act like you don’t know. Your dad left all of us. You, me, Qiu. He’s not here, because he chose not to be here. Do you understand me?”
Sometimes, I really wonder if you are my child. I look at you and see that there are parts that I don’t like. I wonder where you get it from, I wonder ‘did she get that from me?’ and then I realize that you got it from him.
