“There’s a school event this afternoon. Are you sure you want to go?”
Before Naomi could answer, her phone rang.
A flicker of hope appeared in her eyes, but when she pulled out her phone and saw “Zebulon” light up the screen, her spirits sank.
“Hello.”
Her feelings for Zebulon were complicated now.
It was impossible to completely forget her past emotions.
She could only force herself not to be swayed by him whenever they were together.
After all, he was the boy she’d once had a huge crush on, which gave him an advantage. The slightest bit of kindness from him was enough to make her happy.
Of course, Naomi was also conflicted.
There was a lingering sense of regret—a feeling of, “I would have been so happy if you’d treated me like this sooner.”
At the same time, that very feeling served as a warning.
Once you've been hurt, you build up a defense mechanism, and Naomi was torn by this inner conflict.
Whenever she started to lean toward him, a voice in her head would pipe up: “Have you forgotten how he treated you before?”
“Naomi, are you that pathetic? He snaps his fingers, and you come running back?”
“Acting like this will only make him respect you less.”
Naomi had a gentle nature, even with her own subconscious. When her inner voice scolded her, she could only retreat in shame.
The more this happened, the more she wanted to escape to the studio.
She had hoped to find support from Lennon—for some reason, she felt that he was so emotionally stable that just being around him would calm her down.
So, Naomi had been eagerly waiting for Lennon to show up.
But he remained absent.
Thinking about it now only made her feel more suffocated.


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