And Ariana had never looked so passionate and wild in the three years I'd known her.
As if sensing something, she suddenly looked toward the camera, quickly threw her coat over Lance and grabbed a nearby skull prop to hurl at it, "Get lost! You think you deserve to see Lance? If you keep staring, I'll gouge out your eyes!"
The screen instantly turned to static and someone awkwardly rubbed their nose, "It's so dark in there and she covered Lance so tightly, we can't see anything. Ariana's seriously freaking out."
"A few days ago, I joked with her about letting the girls take a peek at Ernest's body and she just laughed and nodded. Looks like Lance is really her darling, he gets the VIP treatment."
I clenched my fists tightly, only to slowly loosen them in defeat.
Turns out, when people are faced with something they don't want to believe, their first reaction isn't anger, it's denial.
Even after my manager reminded me three times that I could take off my makeup and leave, I stubbornly stood there.
I didn't believe it. I couldn't believe the woman they were talking about, the one who toyed with others' feelings, was the same woman I'd loved for three years.
An hour later, she walked out of the haunted house, arm in arm with Lance. Under the bright lights, Ariana's face looked so clear and beautiful and it completely shattered my self-deception.
There were kiss marks all over Lance's neck. When he saw the cut on my forehead, he smiled sheepishly and said, "Bro, my girlfriend's got a bit of a temper. Sorry about earlier, don't take it personally. She just gets really possessive over me."
He continued, "Ariana, aren't you gonna compensate the guy?"
Ariana locked eyes with me, I thought she recognized me.
I hoped she'd explain. Even if she denied being my girlfriend, anything would be better than feeling like a joke.
But she just pulled out a checkbook, scribbled down a few numbers, tossed it at my feet and coldly said, "Keep your mouth shut. If I find out you're spreading rumors and ruining Lance's reputation, I won't let you off."
After three years together, I could recognize her silhouette in the dark without a doubt.
But now, standing right in front of her, with only some makeup on, she only cared about warning me not to harm her 'boyfriend's' reputation.
Did she really not recognize me, or had she just never cared to?
Ariana helped Lance into the Bentley, gently fastened his seatbelt, then drove off. She never looked at me again.
Watching that limited-edition Rolls-Royce with an A-plate drive away, a wave of bitterness welled up in me.
We had no money for a car because we were always saving to pay off debt and cover her mother's medical bills. We only had a second-hand electric scooter.
Countless times, when a luxury car passed by with a handsome man inside, Ariana would point and say, "Ernest, just wait. One day, I'll get you into a car like that. The passenger seat is only for you."
Back then, I thought even if I spent my whole life riding a scooter, as long as I had her promise, I was the happiest man alive.
But now, she really did have a luxury car, only the man in the passenger seat wasn't me.
After taking off my makeup and going home, I pulled out my phone and looked at a photo of Ariana's mother while staring at the check.
The amount on it was enough to cover her mother's medical bills for an entire year. Ariana, what other secrets are you hiding from me?
There was a sound at the door. I quickly hid the check.
Ariana said, "Ernest, I got paid from my part-time job. I bought your favorite strawberries. Come have some."
