I gritted my teeth, my anger rising. "I'm sorry..."
The audience continued hollering:
"What good is saying sorry! If you truly feel guilty, then go die!"
"That’s right! Go die!"
"Die!"
With no stop, their voices merged into a furious chant.
My body trembled under the barrage of hatred.
I clenched my teeth tightly, trying to stay steady.
Bending down, I muttered, "I'm sorry..."
Rotten vegetables, shoes, and even phones came flying toward me.
The impact left blood on my forehead.
When I looked up, a familiar figure appeared behind the crowd.
Nicole stood there, watching me.
At that moment, I actually saw a hint of pain in her eyes.
I thought... maybe I was just dazed from the blows, but Nicole turned and walked away.
When I stumbled back to the backstage area, the brooch was, as expected, safely nestled in the velvet box.
It had been wiped clean, looking brand new.
"Here, it’s for you from Nicole," Charles muttered as he reluctantly pushed the box toward me.
My hands trembled as I reached for it. Just as I was about to touch the brooch, another hand snatched it away.
Charles’s cold smile flashed before my eyes.
The next moment, the brooch hit the floor, shattering into pieces.