"On our way back, I half-jokingly expressed gratitude for Mr. Jenkins' impressive 'performance."
Isaac, while driving, casually engaged in conversation, "Then, I suppose we should discuss my performance fee, or maybe a dinner invitation from you could suffice?"
Truth be told, Isaac's situation was more intricate than mine. After his family's downfall, he shouldered substantial debts, which he only managed to clear at the start of this year. His business has recently seen a turnaround, allowing him to invest in property and vehicles.
For me, despite some achievements in academia and the challenges posed by the students I recently took under my wing, my company is barely breaking even, far from a success story. Despite the years, my knack for business remains blunt.
Yet, as I gazed at the neon lights streaming past the window, an unbidden sense of happiness filled me. Just as Isaac remarked, we may only be ordinary players in life, but even so, we can find our own slices of joy.
Half a year whisked by in a blink.
My students gradually began to showcase their achievements, nearing graduation.
Last weekend, Isaac and a few students hosted a grand Thanksgiving feast at Qiu Mountain.
However, on such a serene morning, Penelope, armed with a can of gasoline, stormed into the celebration site, madly splashing gasoline everywhere.
"It's all your fault... You've taken everything from me." Her eyes, filled with madness and resentment, locked on me, "Ha ha, Melinda, how could you possibly live a better life than me?" she laughed hysterically, "Die!"
Penelope, hampered by her disability, nearly wreaked havoc on the entire celebration site.
At that moment, Graham was battling cancer, and Penelope was deep in debt. Their daughter, Harley, known for her rebelliousness, frequently clashed with Penelope, questioning her desire to live.
Should Penelope cease to exist, I would become Harley's stepmother, with all my assets destined for Harley. Graham's indifference served as the final blow to Penelope.
As Graham hurried to the scene, a lighter, already ignited, brushed against the oil trail, setting the entire area ablaze.
The fire, ferocious like a beast, devoured all combustibles within seconds, sending guests into a panic, scattering in all directions, as flames engulfed everything swiftly.
Isaac, with remarkable quickness, grabbed me as soon as Penelope charged in, retreating to a relatively safe corner.
I witnessed Penelope being consumed by the inferno. Graham, drenched in gasoline, stood in the center of the hall, his gaze on me laden with pain and regret.
In her final moment, Penelope clutched Graham tightly, the flames quickly climbing up their bodies. The face that had lingered in my mind for years vanished in the engulfing blaze.
Under Isaac's lead, we evacuated through a side door. His strength, surprisingly immense and shaking, held me tight as we stepped outside.
"Are you alright? Any injuries?" he asked, his eyes reflecting unease and vulnerability.
It was then I realized his concern for me. I gently shook my head, "I'm fine."
Luckily, all guests had managed to escape in time. Aside from my slightly singed hair, we were unharmed. Isaac, holding me tight, sighed in relief, "Thank goodness... I almost thought that nightmare had become reality..."
"A nightmare?"
"I dreamt you married Graham, surrounded by those envious of you. The Huntingtons, Penelope, Harley... At 28, your current age, you were trapped in a blaze."
Staring at the sky consumed by flames, I thought, "Indeed, it was a horrific dream." But thankfully, it was merely a dream.
Aside from Graham and Penelope, there were no further casualties. The revelation of all untold stories followed. Online opinions varied:
"Clearly, their love was doomed by societal mismatches."
"It was familial pressure that used Penelope's life as leverage, forcing Huntington into an arranged marriage."
"Huntington had truly intended to spend his life with Melinda, but tragically chose to follow Penelope in death after her demise."
The comments were tinged with irony: "Can this melodramatic duo cease their torment of Melinda?"
"Melinda has truly been through an ordeal, innocently embroiled in this mess."
And now, the world has finally found its equilibrium again.
In late autumn, Isaac and I decided to explore the countryside mountains. The wind was brisk, rustling through the dry grass. We stumbled upon a graveyard, finding Graham and Penelope's tombstones placed together.
Isaac suddenly mentioned, "I heard Harley passed away from illness, quite a dramatic ending."
"If she was unloved, why was she brought into this world at all?" I placed a bouquet between the tombstones, then tossed a voice recorder and an old mobile phone into a fire pit. As the wind intensified, the flames roared, consuming the items.
"What are these?" Isaac inquired.
"A recording of Graham venting about Penelope and the mobile phone I used to contact her." That night, Graham confided a lot in me, which I forwarded to Penelope, only for her to lash out at me more fiercely.
It seemed I had long become a thorn in her side.
Facing Isaac, I earnestly agreed, "Your perspective resonates with me."
"Maybe we're merely supporting characters in this narrative."
"The events you dreamt might have been my fated end."
"The blind vitriol online, as if for their union, we had to sacrifice without question."
I squatted down, watching the items turn to ashes.
"To survive in this story, there's only one strategy—"
"Eliminate the protagonists."
Isaac added to my thoughts.
The wind caressed us gently, and I smiled.
Thus, we undermined the Huntington foundation, eroded Penelope's trust in Graham, leading to their ultimate self-destruction amid disputes.
"At that moment, the author had no choice but to relinquish control."
"Then, we could finally live like ordinary people."
The wind swept through, and Isaac promptly wrapped another layer around me.
"Let's head back."
Along the way, I curiously asked him, "What role do you think you play in this story?"
He glanced at me, half-jokingly replying, "Perhaps I'm that anonymous passerby, secretly fond of secondary female character, destined to deal with her aftermath in the end."
I paused, feeling a stir within, yet unable to articulate it.
Isaac chuckled, "It's alright. A passerby is meant to be forgotten, not central to the plot."
The wind continued, the rustling leaves creating a melody.
"Melinda, I'm profoundly grateful you're still with us."
"Maybe, in some realm, you're the hero of your own story."
I responded with a smile, "Then I hope the author shows mercy, allowing this tale to conclude here. From now on, I'd rather walk my path as an ordinary individual."
Isaac's laughter faded with the wind.
"She's bound to hear you."
(The End)
