On the first day I moved into this house, I carefully inspected everything. The items here were definitely valuable, so I've always been extra cautious when cleaning, especially with that row of vases on the cabinet. One wrong move could mean working for free.
But now, Rhys—he actually broke one of the vases?
I quickly went over to take a look and, realizing it was worth more than I could afford, I distanced myself: "You broke it, so don't even think about dragging me into paying for it."
After I said that, he looked at me, the corners of his eyes slightly red. Then, he punched the cabinet, knocking down another small ornament, which shattered...
Alright, from now on, I'll try to talk to him as little as possible to avoid him pinning the blame on me if he can't afford to pay.
To make a good impression on Malachi, I dragged my best friend out shopping. I tried on a bunch of clothes and shoes, and after her repeated assurances, I finally bought the outfit she insisted Malachi would like.
A few days later, after getting ready and stepping out the door, my phone buzzed with one message after another.
The news hit me so hard that it took me a while to recover. To sum it up in one sentence: My comic has been accused of plagiarism.
I opened the phone, and everywhere were insults directed at me, as if people wanted to kill me and scatter my ashes.
My hands and feet quickly went cold, and my phone slipped from my grasp. I picked it up with trembling hands and typed out a clarifying post, but within a minute, it was drowned in a sea of vicious comments.
The barrage of accusations and insults nearly suffocated me. I returned to my bedroom, sat on the floor, and felt utterly hopeless.
My editor told me to stay offline and wait for further updates.
I sent a message to Malachi, apologizing and saying that something had come up, so I couldn't make it.
I thought about calling my best friend but was afraid of disrupting her work.
So I sat alone in the room, dazed.
I don't know how long it was before the door creaked open slightly, letting a sliver of light into the dim room.
Rhys pushed the door open, standing in the doorway with the light behind him, one hand in his pocket, his voice calm: "You've seen it all?"
I froze, my voice catching as I asked him, "What do you mean? Did this happen a long time ago?"
Before I could finish speaking, I couldn't stop the tears from falling.
I had spent so long drawing, planning out this comic, only to have them say it was plagiarized.
Rhys came over, squatted in front of me, and wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes with his thumb, his tone a blend of the unfamiliar and familiar: "Let's eat something first."
I shook my head, completely without an appetite, unable to eat anything.
Only I knew how much effort I had poured into that comic, and now they were accusing me of plagiarism. It was absurd—absolutely absurd!
Seeing that I wasn't moving, Rhys simply picked me up and carried me to the dining table, setting me down in a chair.
"Eat first." He said this and then went to the kitchen to serve the meal. I wiped away my tears and saw his phone on the table light up for a brief moment before the screen went dark again.
But I still saw it—his lock screen was a photo of me.
When he returned, I held up the phone and asked him what this meant. Why was he using my photo as his lock screen?
As the question left my lips, I felt a vague unease in my heart, perhaps mixed with a bit of... undefined hope.
But he casually placed the rice in front of me and replied offhandedly, "Oh, to ward off evil."
