Chapter 4
It was the day of the awards ceremony. Landon Youth Creative Competition was held in the main hall at the Science and Technology Exhibition Center.
The spacious hall, with two levels, could seat 1,500 people. Today, it was packed to the brim, and even the aisles were crammed with extra chairs.
The first three rows were for the sponsors and judges. The rest of the seats were filled with parents. Their outfits varied wildly, yet it was plain to see they were among the city's more well-off crowd.
I wasn't sitting in the audience.
With my "Special Partner, Late Sequence" badge hanging around my neck, I was with two colleagues, setting up the gift booth on the right side of the hall.
On the table were special gift boxes from Late Sequence, reserved for the winners. There were handmade fabric storage bags, custom pencil cases, and a limited-edition set of patchwork-style notebooks. I handpicked every single item myself.
One of my colleagues asked, "Ms. Sutton, why did you come yourself for an event like this?"
"Today's different," I replied.
She let it go.
Music started playing in the hall. The host stepped onto the stage and began reading out the list of sponsors, judges, and people to thank.
There was only a smattering of applause from the audience.
I wiped my hands and glanced up at the front row.
Then the door at the back of the hall opened.
Two assistants in sharp suits walked in first. Then he appeared. Andrew.
It had been nine years since I last saw him. He looked a bit slimmer than before, his jawline even more defined. He was wearing a dark gray suit, no tie, and his shirt collar was casually unbuttoned.
He wasn't putting on that stiff corporate act. He looked more like someone who showed up because he had to, not because he cared.
But the moment he walked in, the whole vibe in the hall shifted.
People in the front row stood up to shake his hand. In the back, parents leaned in, whispering to each other as rumors spread like ripples.
"That's Andrew Collins from Glory Tech."
"The guy who made the Forbes list this year?"
The host paused for a second, and then quickly got back on track. "Let's welcome the exclusive title sponsor of this competition, the founder of Glory Tech, Mr. Andrew Collins, to the stage for his speech."
The room erupted in applause.
He walked up to the stage and took the microphone.
He didn't use a script. He just spoke off the cuff—about how technology was the future, and the youth were our hope. His voice wasn't loud, and he didn't rush, but there was something about him that commanded the room.
It was the kind of aura that only someone who'd been at the top for years could have. Every inch of him screamed, "I don't need to impress anyone."
The audience was so quiet that it was almost eerie. Especially the women in the parent rows. The way they looked at Andrew was different. Their eyes lingered on him with a strange intensity.
I stood behind the booth, watching Andrew from across the hall, a sea of people between us.
Nine years ago, he was the guy who couldn't wait to get to the airport, who thought even saying one more word to me was a waste of time.
Now, he was under the spotlight, with over a thousand people looking up at him in awe.
I bent down and straightened a gift box that had been knocked askew on the table. A faint smile tugged at my lips.
The higher Andrew climbed today, the more interesting it'd be to watch him fall.
There was someone standing next to him. It was Jessica.
She was wearing a champagne-colored dress, her long hair draped over her shoulders, standing quietly half a step behind him, a little to the side.
Edith hadn't lied. Jessica was here as Andrew's date today.
She swept her gaze across the crowd.
I took a small step back behind the booth. No rush. It wasn't time yet.
When Andrew finished his speech, the applause started up again.
The host grabbed the mic, his voice rising with excitement. "Thank you, Mr. Collins. Now, here comes the most thrilling moment of the day.
"Let's welcome the champion of the smart hardware category to the stage, to receive his award from Mr. Collins himself!"
It was our time.
My fingers felt icy.
My heart was racing, but nothing showed on my face.
The side door swung open, and Ian walked out.
He had on that navy blue suit, the cuffs rolled up just like I did for him last night.
In his hands, he carried his project, that six-legged robot.
He walked with steady steps, and his little shoulders were held perfectly straight.
The spotlight tracked him all the way to the center of the stage, where he came to a stop right in front of Andrew.
Andrew leaned down, about to hand the trophy to Ian.
But then, as his eyes landed on Ian's face, he froze. It was as if someone had hit pause on his entire body.
The trophy hovered between them, and his grip tightened until his knuckles went white.