I’M APPLYING TO ONE, I GUESS. Xiao Gui asked me if I have any video of myself singing, dancing or stuff; so I told him that I used to have an account for that.

And just a moment ago, he also asked if I still have access to that, which I replied with yes.

I still haven’t deactivated any of my old accounts, I think. It's a lot of work.

---

We’re sitting on the floor, somewhere at the campus where nobody’s around. This place is picked according to my request, because I don’t want anyone to hear whatever we’re going to talk about after this.

“You went around with the name Lexie?”

“That’s my actual name.”

“So you’re going undercover now? Pfft." He bursts into laughter.

“Are you done?” I clench my teeth and squint at him.

“Ok, peace.” He literally formed a peace sign with both of his hands.

“Are you sure that this is legit?” I ask him. He’s currently busy putting my form, some scanned documents, and the video together; or maybe he’s checking them, with his laptop.

“What are you talking about? You’re doubting me?”

“God, you’re sensitive for a guy.”

“Duh, ist. Being sensible is a good thing, though.”

“I mean, is it true that someone’s willing to give scholarships for dancers?”

He turns to me. “Stop being such a pessimist. You’re underestimating our profession.” He purses his lips.

“There’re a lot of things dancers can achieve in our country. We’re really cool, you know.” Then he turns back to his laptop and starts typing things.

"Besides, it’s not someone but one big corporation.” He mumbles.

“You’re totally going to be an optimist once you manage to get this one."

Well.

---

I want to drag Xiao Gui to the canteen as my gratitude for him. Just right after he finishes packing his laptop, I grab the hem of his yellow hoodie and starts walking.

“I told you. If you want to treat me or something, you have to bring me to some fancy restaurants, mall or something!” He holds my wrist and pushes it away from the hoodie.

While still holding my wrist, he drags me to the parking lot instead.

I gulp.

If it costs so much, I’ll just act like I forgot my wallet.

---

After a few moments, he stops his car in front of a noodle restaurant. It’s totally not fancy. There’s not even one air conditioner. The tables and the chairs are placed on the ground, not floor. This is the typical restaurant where the owner is an old woman who works as the cashier and the chef at the same time.

“You call this fancy?”

“Well, look at the interior! How cool, right? I always want to eat here but never get to.“

“So that’s the definition of fancy to you.” I mumble, “Tsk. Real dumbhead.”

“What?”

“What do you want to order?” I shift the topic.

“I’ll just go with what you like.”

“Ok.”

I yell to the nainai, “TWO LAMIAN PLEASE!”

I turn to him. He looks shocked; widened eyes and stunned face.

“You don’t want that?” I ask him, and he actually needs a while to respond. He blinks few times, then shakes his head.

“What do you want to drink?”

He raises his hands, making an “I don’t know” gesture.

So I turn to the nainai and yell, “ALSO TWO ICED TEA, SO IT’S TWO LAMIAN AND TWO ICED TEA PLEASE!”

I feel like he’s staring at me. I look at him, straight on the eyes.

“What?” I scoff.

“You’re really a pessimist, aren’t you?”

“Huh?” I raise an eyebrow.

“I don’t know that people like you don’t even know how to behave in front of older people.”

“What do you mean by people like me? And what—“ I pause. “Wait, you really think I just acted impolitely in purpose to that nainai?” I burst into laughter.

This guy must be kidding me.

He puts his elbows on the table and cups his own chin there. He’s like making himself comfortable to glare at me for a longer time.

“Seriously?” I furrow my eyebrow.

“Is your life that hard?”

“What?!“

It is hard, but isn’t everybody’s too?

“—that you turn into this ungrateful individual who can’t differ between how to act to younger people and older people?“ He sighs. “No wonder you’re a pessimist.”

I stand up and hit the table. “This, is what acting impolite look like!” I’m clenching my fist just to hit his face but—

Remember, the seller and the customer.

I sigh and sit back on my chair. I tell him, “Look. Everyone yells when they order in this kind of restaurant." I let out a heavy sigh. "I know the nainai couldn’t hear properly. So we have to talk louder. You get me, madam?”

I roll my eyes.

Why am I even explaining.

“Duh, stupid deductions made by a stupid person. He can’t even tell the difference between realists and pessimists.” I mumble.

---

The nainai turns out to be not only the owner, the cashier and the chef, but also the waitress.

“Thank you, nainai.” He says that to nainai who’s just served our order to our table. But instead of replying or nodding to him, she starts squinting, looking confused, because she couldn’t hear him clearly, I bet.

I yell, “HE SAID, THANK YOU.” She’s like shocked, but then smiles and nods to both of us.

“See?” I smirk and raise an eyebrow to him. He gulps.

I know that.

As I start eating my lamian, I notice that he’s still staring at his lamian and not eating it.

So he has this habit of opening his mouth each time he spaces out.

And he spaces out a lot, by the way.

I blurt, “Come on. What is it this time? Stop wondering!”

“I’m just confused...” He’s pointing at the seasonings tray. “What should I take from this? Do people take something first or just eat the lamian right away?”

“You can do both. No one cares.” I roll my eyes.

“So I should take this one, or this one, or this one—”

I’m lazy to take a look at whatever he’s talking about, so I just say, “Try some. They’re good.”

Then in a few minutes,

“HAAAAAHHH!!!!”

What in the world.

I look up to him and he looks reddish. Just like what I said before, that one can look like he/she’s currently wearing PE clothes, layered by my PE clothes, then Yuxi’s PE clothes; I feel hot already just by thinking about it.

“What did you add?”

He can’t talk now because he’s busy sticking out his tongue. He repliesto me by making a circular motion all over the tray.

“You added all of them??”

He nods very quickly.

Stupid.

Ok... I feel bad.

“Here, drink mine.” I move my glass closer to him, because his is empty already.

I yell, “NAINAI, ONE ICED TEA PLEASE!”

After he’s a bit calmed, he mutters, “Did you do that in purpose?”

“What?!” I pause.

Is he referring to the tray? But he took it himself. Geez.

“You said I’m a judging person, but now I know that you’re actually talking about yourself." I stand up and just go to the cashier to pay.

---

So I’m leaving him to go straight to work. It’s not that I’m being ungrateful with how he’s helped me with the scholarship application, then ditch him like this. But more likely that because I feel very grateful to him, I don’t want him to get hurt by me, who can’t resist the burning flame inside from even being in the same room with him.

Was I too much?

He didn’t do anything wrong at the noodle restaurant, I recall. It’s likely that it’s me that’s been a ticking bomb for too long; I’ve been holding in my anger just because of the stupid customer-seller analogy I came up with.