"Hey!"
Xanthea watched his retreating figure, her heart filled with increasing confusion.
Why did he always run away whenever he saw her? Was she really that scary?
She looked down and saw a crushed rose on the ground, picking it up.
Was this his?
The grand hall was still bustling, filled not just with judges and her classmates, but also her fans. Him holding a flower, could it mean he was one of her fans too?
Then why did he run away?
"Xan, what are you staring at?"
"That little weirdo? What's so interesting about him? Come on, let's take a photo!"
"Little, weirdo?"
Xanthea frowned, a classmate nodded, "Yeah, don't you know?"
"There's a lot of gossip going around. They say he was born under a bad sign, causing his parents' deaths, and he's mute. He wears a mask and sunglasses to hide his ugliness. His face is covered with hideous scars. Once, someone pulled his mask off, and it scared everyone!"
Scared everyone?
Xanthea remembered the time he was bullied by a group of boys and remained silent, a pang of compassion flashing in her eyes.
To have lost his parents so early and unable to speak, bullied without a way to fight back, wasn't he just too pitiful?
"Why does he have scars on his face?"
"I heard he was burned in a big fire, but who knows if it's true."
Burned?
Xanthea paused, suddenly remembering the little boy she and her uncle had saved from a fire in an abandoned building on the outskirts half a year ago. His left face was burnt too, could it be him?!
"Which side of his face was burnt?"
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