After the long silence of winter, spring arrived like a quiet song. The birds chirped again in the mornings, bees buzzed lazily from bloom to bloom, and moonlight poured like silk across the night sky. Everything around the college campus felt fresh and peaceful. The sky was clear, the wind cool and refreshing, and butterflies danced from flower to flower.
Yes — it was spring.
Someone once said, "Spring brings joy and happiness to every heart. It's the season of festivals and weddings, of love, hope, youth, and growth."
But for me?
The first day of spring was absolute shit.
We had just finished class when I saw a familiar face standing by the entrance — waiting for me.
Bronze hair swayed in the breeze. Porcelain skin. A sharp nose. A lean, toned body straight out of a romance comic.
Yes. Liam Court.
My first love.
"Hey, Lia," he called out, waving at me.
God. I wanted to run.
But I couldn't — he had called me by name. Everyone heard.
Well. I'm screwed.
This is so awkward.
"Oh, hey Liam! Long time no see. How've you been?" I forced a goofy smile.
"Lia…" he stepped closer and gently took my hand. "Can we talk? Just for a minute?"
"…Okay."
He led me outside and let go of my hand, looking worried.
"Lia, I don't know how things got so strange between us. But why are you avoiding me? I don't mind the confession — really. I just want you to know I still want to be friends."
"I'm not avoiding you because of that," I said. "I just… I need some time. To figure out how I feel. It's good that you still think of me as a friend after everything."
I laughed awkwardly. "This is so embarrassing."
"I'm sorry, Lia."
"No, don't be. You didn't do anything wrong. I've just been… busy. Part-time jobs and everything."
"Do you still need more time?"
"Yeah. Sorry."
"I get it," he said softly. "When you're ready… I hope we can go back to how things were."
"Don't worry," I said, trying to sound casual. "Anyway, I have class now — I gotta go."
I looked into his ocean-blue eyes for a moment, then rushed off.
Yeah… that class was just an excuse. I was working tonight. But I couldn't handle the awkwardness anymore.
When I turned back, I saw him still standing there, staring at the flowers.
His tall figure looked so small in that moment.
I felt bad. But I just… didn't have the courage to face him yet.
Do you believe in fate?
We, Burmese, do.
Four years ago, I wasn't in the U.S. I was 16, freshly graduated from high school, working as a receptionist at a hotel in Yangon.
That's where I first met Liam.
He was a high school student from America, visiting Myanmar with a few friends. On a rainy day, he walked into the hotel — soaked, umbrella-less, completely drenched. He looked like a Hollywood actor in a dramatic rain scene… or maybe just a soggy puppy. Either way, I couldn't help but rush out with an umbrella.
"Thank you," he said, shivering.
He told me he had arrived early — his friends were coming the next day. I gave him a towel and some lukewarm water. That was the start.
Liam was different. He was kind. He listened. He didn't throw around curse words like other guys I'd met. A true gentleman — like someone out of a novel.
We were the same age. By the time his friends arrived and their four-day stay ended, we'd already become close.
After he left, we stayed in touch on Twitter. And three years later — fate played its ridiculous little game.
I moved to the United States.
And somehow… Liam and I ended up at the same university. Different majors. Same campus.
He recognized me first. We reconnected. Grew even closer than we'd been in Myanmar.
I fell for him. Again.
And in snowy December, I confessed.
His reply was immediate.
"Sorry, Lia… I can't accept your feelings. If you'd told me three months ago, maybe. But now… I have a girlfriend. You know Eveline? In the theatre department? She's my girlfriend."
It crushed me.
I knew I couldn't compete with someone like Eveline — the campus goddess.
So, I accepted it.
---------------------
And I disappeared from his life for two whole months.
After that awkward meeting with Liam… and another stupid fight with Jenny… I went to work, dragging my exhaustion like a giant stone.
Even Steven, my coworker, noticed.
"What's up with you today, Elena? You look like the walking dead. You fight with your boyfriend or something?"
"Don't joke, Steve. I'm in a bad mood. Watch your mouth."
"Easy, easy," he raised his hands.
Another staff member called out, "Hey! Stop chatting. Table 18 needs a server. Can one of you go?"
"Sure," I muttered.
Table 18.
A man sat alone in the dim neon glow of the bar, wearing sunglasses — even in this lighting.
I stared for a second, wondering how he could even see anything.
I approached with a polite smile.
"Hello, I'm Elena. I'll be your server tonight. Our specials are on the board. How can I help you?"
"I'd like a martini. And a bottle of Máximo Extra Añejo, please."
"Would you like ice with that?"
"Yes, please."
"Anything else, sir?"
He looked at me for a moment. Then slowly took off his sunglasses.
"You have a lovely name, Elena Ko," he said, locking eyes with mine.
"Can I have your phone number?"
Ah. Of course.
I knew exactly where this was going.
It was always like this.
Back when I worked at the hotel in Yangon, a Spanish tourist asked me the same thing. I was just 16 then, too naïve to understand. I pretended not to hear.
In my first year at college, I went on a date with a classmate. Coffee, a movie. Then suddenly, "It's too late to go home. Want to book a hotel together?"
At this bar, I've lost count of how many guys asked me to "hang out" or "chill for just one night."
They didn't want love. Just bodies.
Just one night.
And today? I was too tired, too pissed, too fed up to play polite.
So I smiled sweetly and said:
"No thanks. I don't sleep with strangers."
And that, was the first time I met that lunatic…
The almighty Tom Kang.