Just Pretend

Chapter 6

Just Pretend - Chapter 6



Evelyn’s eyebrow twitched.

For a moment, she was genuinely startled.

What the hell?

How is he…

Why is he suddenly responding?!

And with a question mark, no less.

Her gaze instinctively shifted to the message she had sent.

— Happy New Year! ^_^

For a solid three seconds, she had no idea what she was even looking at.

It was a greeting. A completely normal New Year’s wish.

Not a curse. Not an insult.

And yet…

That single question mark was strangely intimidating.

Even through a screen, West had somehow managed to make her feel like she’d just been called out.

Like she was some long-forgotten acquaintance who had dared to resurface, only to be met with immediate skepticism.

Evelyn hesitated before typing:

[Do you even know wh—]

Before she could finish, she caught a glimpse of someone walking past her.

She looked up.

West had stopped about a meter ahead, next to a young girl.

She was small and slender, head tilted downward as she stared at her phone.

Putting two and two together, Evelyn figured this must be his sister.

She vaguely remembered her from high school.

Sage Langley—six or seven years younger than West.

Back then, she had been a tiny thing, all big eyes and delicate features. Evelyn had to bend down just to talk to her.

Now, they were practically the same height.

West’s voice was lazy. “Hey, kid.”

Sage looked up. “What.”

“Mom says you’re stressed.”

Sage dismissed him immediately. “I’m not.”

West wasn’t convinced. “Because of exams?”

Evelyn was close enough to hear their conversation loud and clear.

Not that she wanted to eavesdrop. But given the proximity, it was impossible not to.

“I said I’m not.”

“You’re overthinking,” West said, drawing out his words like he had all the time in the world. “I never studied, and I still got into Westport University. Besides, even if you bomb your finals, the family’s got money. You can just retake them.”

Sage shot him a look, clearly irritated. “You never studied? You think I don’t remember?”

She snorted. “Relax. You barely scraped into Westport. I could get in blindfolded.”

West fell silent.

“…And,” Sage continued, “I heard from Mom that you quit your job?”

“….”

“That can’t be right, though.”

West side-eyed her. “What’s it to you?”

Sage kept going. “You got fired, didn’t you?”

Before West could respond, his phone rang.

He glanced at the caller ID, then smirked. “Since you won’t listen to me, how about some advice from your other brother?”

Sage froze.

Then, after a beat, her voice dropped. “…Don’t.”

West didn’t push. Instead, he turned and strolled off to answer his call.

Silence settled over the area.

Evelyn, standing nearby, suddenly felt incredibly awkward.

It was one thing to overhear strangers.

But overhearing someone she knew?

Way worse.

Thankful for her mask, she turned back to her phone.

Looking at the half-written message in her chat, she hesitated, then deleted it.

She needed to phrase this carefully.

Something subtle.

Something neutral.

Something that would confirm whether or not West even realized he was talking to her.

After some thought, she settled on a single character:

[?]

No response.

She figured he was still on the phone.

After staring at her screen for a few more seconds, another thought hit her.

Even if West had blocked her…

Her own privacy settings—

Had never blocked him.

“…Shit.”

A realization crashed down on her.

She immediately opened her WeChat Moments.

Her last post was over two months ago, back when she was still working in Hydeport.

It was a selfie with her coworkers at a bar.

And her face?

Very visible.

Clear as day.

Evelyn’s stomach dropped.

So at the bar the other day—

He had definitely recognized her.

And had definitely pretended not to.

The group message he sent?

Purposely excluded her.

Her greeting?

His first instinct was to shut her down with a question mark.

“….”

The restroom line moved forward.

Finally, it was her turn.

After finishing up, she walked to the shared sinks, turned on the faucet, and stared blankly at the mirror.

Her brain was a mess.

So that’s how it was, huh?

West knew.

And he had avoided her on purpose.

As she washed her hands, she glanced at her reflection—

And caught sight of West in the mirror.

He was leaning against a railing, staring at his phone.

Had he seen her response yet?

A moment later, Sage walked out of the restroom and stopped at a sink.

But when she turned on the tap, no water came out.

Evelyn stepped aside. “Use this one.”

Sage blinked, surprised.

“…Thanks.”

Their eyes met.

Sage hesitated for a second, but Evelyn didn’t notice.

She was already pulling out her phone as she left the restroom.

West had yet to respond.

Predictable.

Evelyn stared at the chat.

A single, ridiculous thought crossed her mind.

Should I just say—“Let’s delete each other”?

She typed it out.

Paused.

Deleted it.

Her gaze landed on the two question marks.

Suddenly, their chat looked like an argument waiting to happen.

Like some passive-aggressive battle of “Screw you, you’re not the only one who can send question marks.”

That wasn’t what she wanted.

It was New Year’s Eve.

No point starting a fight over something this stupid.

She tried to think of a way to de-escalate.

Eventually, she typed:

[Well.]

She looked at the messages again.

[Happy.]

She hesitated, then added:

[Or not. Either works.]

“….”

The moment it sent, she regretted it.

Right then, she passed by West.

Her peripheral vision caught a flicker of movement—

He had opened WeChat.

Dark lashes lowered as he skimmed the screen.

And then—

A quiet, amused exhale.

Barely audible.

Evelyn stiffened.

Oh, come on.

She knew he wouldn’t reply.

Still, it was infuriating.

With a sigh, she picked up her pace and made her way back to her team.

As the countdown began, anticipation filled the plaza.

People clustered together, excitement buzzing in the air.

The LED screens on distant skyscrapers started flashing numbers.

“—Ten, nine, eight…”

The atmosphere grew electric.

“—Three, two, one!”

Fireworks erupted over the city, bursting in vivid patterns.

Cheers erupted all around her.

Phones were raised, capturing the moment.

As the lights reflected in her eyes, Evelyn lifted her phone and took a few pictures.

Then, as the finale neared—

Someone bumped into her from behind.

She stumbled forward—

And crashed into someone’s back.

She immediately stepped away, startled. “Sorry.”

The person turned.

West.

His gaze lowered to meet hers.

Calm. Unreadable.

Phone pressed to his ear, he casually muttered:

“Yeah, I’m heading home.”

Evelyn forced herself to stay composed.

“Sorry,” she repeated stiffly.

West gave her a slow, indifferent nod.

An acknowledgment.

And then, just as she turned to leave—

She heard him say, almost absently:

“…Happy New Year.”