Chapter 4: Meeting Again
"That pretty girl over there is hard to please, huh? She hasn’t danced once all night," someone remarked.
"Go ahead and try, maybe you can," I interjected casually.
"Me? Boss, I think you should go," one of the guys responded, and suddenly all eyes were on me. They called me Boss because I was their department leader, a senior employee earning a salary four or five times higher than theirs despite being the same age. Saying no would definitely strike my status in their minds. Besides, I had been searching for a reason to ask her to dance, and now I had a ready-made one.
With my heart pounding, I walked towards her, feeling the guys' admiration follow me. As I approached her, dozens of potential reactions to her rejection and how to face the guys played out in my mind. Just before I could reach out to ask her to dance, she looked up, pointed to the empty seat next to her, and said, "Sit."
I complied, relieved that I could talk to her privately. "Why don't you dance?" I asked tentatively.
"Are you here to ask me to dance?"
"Sort of."
"I haven't danced all night," she said.
"I know." I regretted the admission immediately—it revealed I had been paying attention to her all evening.
"So, you're not afraid that dancing with me will attract hatred towards you?" she asked playfully.
"You think I won't attract hatred just by sitting here talking to you?" I replied. Any beautiful woman loves compliments, and she was no exception. She gave a faint smile, and the light caught her dimples just right, creating a sweet, intoxicating effect.
"Do you know why I don't dance?" she asked.
"Do you need a reason? Is there anyone here worth dancing with?" My compliment didn’t land as intended, and she glared at me.
"Actually, I can't dance at all," she admitted with a solemn shrug.
I loved her answer because of my own aversion to dancing. Just as I was about to delve deeper into conversation, another pretty girl approached her and whispered something in her ear. My instincts told me it wasn’t good news. The process of getting to know and becoming acquainted with a pretty girl was never straightforward.
Sure enough, she turned back to me and said, "I have to go. Let's talk next time. Bye."
"I’ll walk you out," I offered, trying to be gentlemanly. Secretly, I hoped to walk her all the way home since she lived downstairs from me.
Outside, the city lights illuminated the dark sky, and a cool breeze blew away my nervous sweat. I felt a hint of pleasure despite my usual nervousness around beautiful women—a problem I had tried countless times to overcome without success.
"Do you want me to walk you back?" I finally mustered the courage to ask.
She looked at me with her big, beautiful eyes, and I could see she was thinking. My heart raced. Unfortunately, her friend interjected, "Sarah, let's go."
She looked at me again and said, "I’m going to the dormitory to pick up my package from Eaioncol Jewelry, not going back there." She smiled and left.
I didn't feel like continuing the now meaningless party. I had "successfully" let the guys see me walk out with the beautiful one-half, ensuring tomorrow would bring their envy and satisfy my vanity. So, I chose to go home.
