As the days went by, Vũ and I grew closer—I’d taken to calling him Vũ for short. But on many nights, sitting alone with my thoughts, I felt like a traitor.
“Traitor to what, exactly? I’m single… If I’m betraying anything, it’s only my own lingering hopes and waiting…”
From the very beginning, I knew Vũ was a “bad boy,” and people weren’t wrong when they said bad boys have a unique allure. On top of that, he was full of surprises. About a week after our phone sex session, he sent me a pair of underwear and the same bunny mask he’d worn before. But when I looked closer, there was another pair tucked inside: a jockstrap and boxers.
I messaged him: “I don’t even wear boxers—why’d you get these?”
Vũ: “Those are mine, actually.”
Me: “Then why send them to me?”
Vũ: “I’m out of milk at home. Could you fill them up a little and send them back?”
I’d never met anyone so shamelessly perverted, yet for some reason I found it oddly entertaining. You get stained near ink, enlightened near light—I even wondered if I’d end up as twisted as him one day.
Most of the time, Vũ acted like nothing was ever serious, but there were moments when he showed a mature, steady side—like a man who’d already weathered half a lifetime of storms. One day he asked: “You’ve had a boyfriend before, right?”
I said yes, and he continued: “So why aren’t you together anymore? Can you tell me?”
Maybe it had been so long that the pain had faded, or maybe having this new emotional anchor made it easier, but talking about it didn’t wrench my heart like before. I suddenly felt safe enough to open up: “My ex was a callboy.”
He went quiet for a moment, then replied: “That’s rough. If it were me, I probably wouldn’t forgive someone like that.”
I smiled on the outside but answered: “I still believe that, given a real choice, he never would’ve gone down that road.”
Vũ: “Then why didn’t you forgive him? Or was there another reason you broke up?”
Me: “I was too shocked back then. I didn’t have enough experience to understand, enough strength to trust, enough patience to empathize, or enough forgiveness to let go.”
Vũ: “Saying all that… means you haven’t fully moved on, does it?”
Me: “I’m not sure anymore… but probably.”
He sighed softly: “I get it. But it’s okay. I’ll slowly heal the wounds he left. And I’ll wait—patiently—for you to accept my feelings.”
I teased: “Oh, stop! Who’d dare date you? I don’t even know what your face looks like!”
Vũ: “Valentine’s is coming up. Meet me then?”
So he hadn’t been avoiding me—he was just waiting for the right moment, when our connection felt solid enough. He seemed like a bad boy on the surface, but when it came to love, he was surprisingly careful.
After that conversation, I was restless for days, daydreaming ridiculous scenarios and grinning like an idiot. Duy Long and Ngọc Lễ noticed and teased me endlessly. Ngọc Lễ kept saying: “Hưng’s definitely got a boyfriend! I was exactly the same when I first started dating!”
I denied it left and right, but on Valentine’s Day I gave myself away completely. I wore my sharpest, most confident outfit. While rummaging through the wardrobe, I spotted the “getting-to-know-you” gift Vũ had sent when we first started talking. I couldn’t help laughing—who’d have thought the guy I despised that day would now be taking me out on Valentine’s?
I opened the box: inside was a sparkling silver necklace. It matched today’s outfit perfectly. The shoes he’d given me—I’d never worn them yet—were perfect for the occasion too. I thought to myself: “Giving someone shoes doesn’t always make them run away. Sometimes they run straight toward you instead.”
Lately I’d felt so silly, but there’s a saying: “Can you outrun a sudden rainstorm? No matter how clever you are, love turns you into a fool.” I wasn’t in love yet, so at least I still had some wits about me.
The meeting time arrived, and I hurried outside to wait for him to pick me up. But no Vũ—just a message: “Sorry baby, running a bit late. Go ahead to the restaurant—I booked a table. Just give your name!”
I felt a brief pang of disappointment, then warmth. He was always so busy, yet he still made time for me. I took a cab and headed over, a mix of nerves and excitement churning inside.
The driver stopped in front of an upscale, clearly expensive restaurant. Before I even reached the entrance, staff greeted me warmly. Inside, the decor was elegant: white walls glowing with golden candlelight, rare blue roses lining the walkway as if growing straight from the walls.
I was led to Vũ’s reserved table. A few other couples sat nearby, whispering sweetly to each other in honeyed tones. I felt a little stifled—I’d probably be far more comfortable if Vũ had just taken me to a roadside stall.
After about fifteen minutes, Vũ finally appeared at the door. He was every bit as tall and handsome as the security guard had described. In a cream-colored suit, every gesture refined. But somehow… he looked at least a year younger than me.
He spotted me instantly and hurried over. “Did you wait long? You look gorgeous today! That necklace really suits you—I was half expecting to find it in the trash!”
I blushed, remembering my old threats. He jumped from topic to topic, carefully avoiding any mention of our phone sex. Of course—in a place like this, bringing that up would’ve been mortifying.
Course after course arrived, along with wine. I felt like a total country bumpkin in the big city. Vũ noticed and gently guided me on proper etiquette for each dish. The more we talked, the more I realized how worldly and knowledgeable he was—nothing like the playful bad boy I texted every day.
It filled me with admiration… but also a quiet sense of inadequacy.
Mid-meal, soft music began to play. A violinist appeared, drawing out long, wedding-like melodies. Suddenly, Vũ slid a small box across the table: inside was a ring. “Will you be my boyfriend?”
I wasn’t ready for this. No rush of joy—just my heart racing, breath catching from sheer tension. In front of all these people… what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t deny I had feelings for him, but this was way too fast…
Everything felt like it was boxing me in—no way forward, no way back.
Seeing my hesitation, Vũ signaled the violinist to stop. He sighed and said: “How long are you going to keep holding onto his memory?”
I knew I’d hurt him—embarrassed him in front of everyone. All I could manage was: “I’m sorry…”
Vũ: “I’ve done all this, and I still can’t compare to him…”
Softly: “This is… too sudden.”
Suddenly angry, he raised his voice: “You’re throwing my feelings away for some low-life callboy? Is he really worth it? Guys like that just lie around making easy money, selling their bodies for fun, living off dirty cash—how do you even know his feelings were only for you? Isn’t that disgusting enough? Trash like—”
Slap!
My hand moved before I could stop it, striking his cheek. I hadn’t wanted to, but it was the only way to make him realize how vicious his words were.
Even if Hoàng Tuấn was no longer my boyfriend, I wouldn’t let anyone insult him like that in front of me.
I hissed: “Shut your mouth! Don’t you ever talk about him that way! Who the hell do you think you are to trash someone else? Were you hiding under his bed every night to know he ‘just lies around’? Not everyone’s born with a silver spoon like you.”
I yanked the necklace off—the clasp popped open without breaking the chain—and slammed it on the table. “Take it back. I dated a callboy—I’m not worthy of anything you give me. Someone as noble as you should stay far away from me. If you get hurt even a little, I couldn’t bear the responsibility.”
I stood and walked out without looking back. In the end, Hoàng Tuấn was still my reverse scale—touch it, and I couldn’t stay silent.
My youth might not hold the most beautiful memories. But imperfect doesn’t mean others get to trample them.
For reasons I couldn’t explain, tears welled up. The feelings I’d cherished and hoped for all these months—in someone else’s eyes, they were nothing but repulsive.
I hurried toward the main street and accidentally bumped hard into someone. Without looking up, I muttered “Sorry!” and kept walking. Then a voice called: “Hưng, wait a second…”
Hoàng Tuấn’s voice… Why now, of all times?
Before I could even turn, he was beside me. “Your neck’s scratched! What happened?”
I didn’t look at him. “It’s nothing. Why are you here? Oh—date with your boyfriend inside, right? Hurry, you’ll be late.”
Hoàng Tuấn: “It’s fine. Heading home? Let me ask my boyfriend if I can drop you off first, then come back.”
“Ask my boyfriend.”
“Ask my boyfriend.”
“ASK MY BOYFRIEND…”
I could barely believe what I’d heard. So Hoàng Tuấn really… had someone new. Of course he did. I’d started catching feelings for someone else—what right did I have to expect anything?
From the very start, I never should’ve hoped or waited.
What needed to end… had finally ended.
I didn’t dare look at him, terrified he’d see the tears escaping. I forced my voice steady: “Go back to your boyfriend—I can get home alone. I’ll head off first. Bye, Tuấn.”
I walked away, leaving behind the fledgling feelings for that bad boy—gone before they could bloom—and leaving behind my youth as well.