My mind was completely absorbed by the details of the case files, constantly wrestling with their complexities.
It felt like someone had interrupted me in the middle of solving a problem, and I was growing increasingly agitated.
“I’m too busy!”
Scott, a genius painter, was known for his works being snapped up at high prices as soon as they were exhibited.
I had once foolishly believed that my genuine love could be exchanged for a genuine return. I wanted to understand his world better, hoping that my sincerity would be reciprocated.
But he had always refused to make our relationship public, claiming it would hurt his young female fans' purchasing power.
Once, I had secretly gone to one of his exhibitions, hoping to surprise him on his birthday.
When he saw me, he turned his back and refused to acknowledge me.
I waited outside the gallery like a fool until it closed.
The security guard had to shoo me away, laughing at my foolishness. I felt like a discarded clown.
When I cried about it later at home, he looked at me with contempt.
“You, with your lack of understanding of art, what do you know?”