Chapter 3: The Party
Due to the success of a recent project, our company decided to throw a celebratory party. Everyone was excited, though their reasons varied. Some were simply thrilled about the company benefits, while others hoped to impress the opposite sex or catch the boss's attention. Although the celebration was an internal event, it always mysteriously attracted a lot of attractive people, though I never bothered to find out how.
As a senior staff member, I knew I had to dress well to represent the company properly. I put on my only suit, a tens-of-thousands-of-dollars ensemble, and hesitated before putting on a fake Omega watch I had bought on eBay for 300 yuan. After spending 20 minutes comparing it to pictures of the original to ensure it looked authentic, I headed to a salon to get my hair done.
At the party, I saw her again. She wore a black silk dress with a silver hairpin, stunning enough to captivate half the room. The other half was focused on the boss. I hoped she would notice me, a senior employee in a million-dollar suit and a fake Omega watch, and come up to say hello. It would have greatly satisfied my vanity. But she didn’t seem to notice me and only chatted and laughed with her female companions.
I spent most of the meal contemplating whether to approach her. Although it wouldn't satisfy my vanity as much, it was better than nothing. I decided to use the restroom to gather my thoughts. When I exited, I bumped into her and locked eyes for three seconds.
"It's you, what are you doing here?" she asked, breaking the silence.
"Of course, I'm going to the restroom. Do I look like I'm eating?" I pointed to the sign above the restroom.
"Yuck," she said, turning and entering the women's restroom. I stood there, depressed, realizing I had wasted a valuable opportunity to make a better impression. I couldn’t wait by the women’s restroom, so I returned to the lobby alone.
When she reappeared in the lobby, she seemed to have forgotten about me. Dancing, a sport I found boring, was in full swing. I had once broken up with a girlfriend for going to a dance without my permission, only to get her back from the same ballroom. Despite my distaste for dancing, I couldn’t help feeling jealous as I watched her from a distance. I didn’t want to see her dance with another guy. When a gentleman approached her, I silently hoped she would turn him down. To my delight, she did, and the feeling was like getting top-of-the-line equipment in a game.
"May I have a dance?" a pleasant voice asked beside me. I turned to find another attractive woman. Our boss was considerate, always ensuring we had someone to dance with. I happily accepted, and for a moment, dancing seemed fun. It’s human nature to enjoy a little vanity.
As I basked in the envious gazes around me, I felt her eyes on me, a hint of sadness in them—or so I imagined. Even if it was a casual glance, I chose to see it as sadness, indulging in my narcissism. Unfortunately, the pleasure was short-lived, and after the song ended, I found myself back with my group of single male coworkers.
The rest of the night was spent passing time with these bored colleagues, and our conversation inevitably circled back to her.
