The Summit Center project bidding event was bustling with noise and excitement.
I found an inconspicuous corner to sit in, my eyes fixed on the figure of Solar Design's representative walking onto the stage.
It's Leonel.
He’s wearing a sharply tailored business suit today, with polished leather shoes and his hair neatly slicked back, shedding his previous innocence and exuding the sharpness of a corporate elite.
He took a deep breath and began explaining the design concept. "My inspiration comes from 'The Eye of the City.' We hope it’s not just a cold building but a living entity that breathes with the city and witnesses the pulse of the times..."
Every single word of this was what I had once told Elsie, night after night, over countless cups of coffee, with bloodshot eyes.
I once thought it was the deepest soul connection between us as a couple.
Now I realize it was just a one-man show, and she was the most patient thief.
What’s more ironic is that Elsie is sitting in the guest seat on the judges' panel.
Her long hair is neatly tied up, her face adorned with delicate makeup—exactly the elite look I know so well.
She listens intently, nodding frequently, and when her gaze falls on Leonel, it sparkles with a light I’ve never seen before—a glow that treasures him and longs to show him off to the world.
She completely ignores me in the corner of the audience, as if I’m just an insignificant backdrop.
The phone buzzed in my palm—it was a message from Alex: [Need me to drop in with a baseball bat?]
I looked at the screen, and the corners of my tense mouth curved slightly as I replied: [Wait.]
On stage, Leonel's speech reached its climax, and the final render appeared on the PPT—the very one stolen from my computer.
The room filled with low murmurs of astonishment.
The speech ended with thunderous applause.
The host took the stage. "Thank you, Mr. Mason, for the wonderful presentation. Next, let's welcome the special judge of this competition, the highly respected industry veteran, Ms. Snyder from Dream Builder Design, to give a brief review of this proposal."
The microphone was gently handed to Elsie.
She nodded slightly, cleared her throat, and her gentle gaze fell on Leonel as she slowly began, "To be honest, I’m quite surprised.
"Mr. Mason's design perfectly combines artistic aesthetics with practical functionality. Especially the subtle adjustments in several key load-bearing structures—very bold, very ingenious."
She used "ingenious," the word she used to describe Leonel, the word she used to hurt me.
She paused, her gaze calmly sweeping across the room. "I believe this piece is undoubtedly the best today."
Applause erupted again, even more enthusiastic than before.
At that moment, my world fell silent, leaving only the dull thud of my heart pounding in my chest.
The host smiled and took over, saying, "Thank you, Ms. Snyder, for such high praise! It seems Solar Design is determined to win this time. So, is there any guest or judge here who would like to ask Mr. Mason a question?"
The venue fell silent.
After Elsie's "authoritative" high praise, it seemed there was nothing left to ask.
Leonel stood on stage, bowed deeply, his face unable to hide the pride and joy.
I put away my phone and slowly stood up just as everyone was about to applaud again.
My movement was subtle, yet it instantly drew everyone's attention.
The host was slightly stunned and asked, "Sir, may I ask who you are?"
Elsie's smile froze.