Meeting in the Rain

The day Asher Ford won Best Actor, a ten-year-old video went viral.

The camera footage showed a torrential downpour.

He was gripping a young girls shoulders, his voice raw with anguish.

Iris, how can someone as cold-blooded as you even exist? Why don't you just die?

Netizens meticulously identified the girl in the videome.

The girl who now gutted fish at the local market, working several jobs a day to pay off debts, living a life that was a complete wreck.

They all laughed, saying Id gotten what I deserved.

Later, we met again on another rainy night.

I had fallen, a mess on the ground, struggling to right my busted-up tricycle.

Asher Ford stepped out of a Maybach, holding an umbrella over my head.

Beneath its shadow, his face was a mask of indifference.

"This," he said, "is the pathetic life youve made for yourself without me."

01

When that ten-year-old video started trending, I was at the market, gutting a fish.

In the video, the girls side was to the camera. The rain had soaked her white dress, making her look fragile and thin, like a butterfly with a broken wing.

After that hysterical, desperate question from the young man, she pried his fingers from her shoulders, her voice almost cruel.

"Then you can just consider me dead."

The old fan at the next stall over was so loud that the sound from my phone felt distorted and distant.

I handed the wrapped fish to a young customer. She glanced at me, then back at the video playing on her phone.

"Do you... do you know Asher Ford?" she stammered.

I lowered my eyes.

"No."

A splash of grimy water, thick with the smell of fish, hit my chin. It was a smell I was long used to, but at that moment, it made my stomach churn.

The customer's eyes were filled with doubt.

I managed a small smile. "An A-lister like him? How could he know someone like me?"

02

I shut down my stall in a hurry and fled back to my cramped little flat. It was the middle of the rainy season, and the roof was leaking, leaving disgusting patches of mold on the ceiling.

Id never gotten around to replacing my shattered phone screen. The signal was terrible.

I had to refresh the page several times before it finally loaded.

The hashtag #AsherFordsExGirlfriend was at the top of the list.

Someone had already doxxed me.

I clicked on the post.

The photo showed me with my lips pressed into a thin line, my hands covered in the blood and gore of my work. Sweat-plastered strands of hair stuck to my face, along with a few stray fish scales. I looked haggard and utterly defeated.

The top comment had tens of thousands of likes.

[Damn! The doxxing speed is insane. Karmas a bitch!]

[Ashers watch is worth 3 million, she guts a fish for 3 bucks. Instant karma, LMAO.]

[My heart broke seeing our angel Asher begging her not to leave, that look of despair on his handsome face! Someone needs to go smash her pathetic little fish stall tomorrow!]

The bowl of noodle soup on my table had gone cold and congealed. The greens were wilted; I hadn't been able to sell them before closing. The sight of it made my stomach turn.

Rain dripped from the ceiling, a maddening, incessant beat against my nerves.

The screen went dark.

I wiped my eyes roughly.

The rain had been bad for business lately.

If I didn't open the stall tomorrow, where would the money come from?

Suddenly, my phone rang.

"Hello? Is this... Iris? The fishmonger?"

The man's voice on the other end had a strange tone.

"Tomorrow night at 6, I need your most expensive fish delivered to The Crestmont. I'll pay you a twenty-dollar delivery fee in cash. Don't be late, you hear me?"

A few of my regular customers had my number. This was a lifeline, enough to get me through tomorrow.

"Okay," I said, my voice hoarse.

03

The Crestmont was a private venue up in the hills. The rain was coming down hard, and the road was poorly lit.

My wheel hit a deep pothole.

I didn't even have time to cry out as the handlebars were ripped from my grasp. The little tricycle tipped violently, throwing me to the ground.

My right shoulder and hip slammed into the asphalt, a dull throb of bone that made me gasp. I reached down to check, my fingertips coming away wet.

I thought it was mud.

But in a flash of a distant streetlight, I saw the dark stain of blood.

The unsold, rotting vegetables I hadn't unloaded yet were scattered all over the road.

I didn't break down and cry.

Instead, I limped to my feet and crouched down to clean up the mess.

On the storm-lashed mountain road, a pair of bright headlights cut through the rain, getting closer.

They sliced through the downpour, illuminating my miserable state for the world to see.

A Maybach pulled to a smooth stop.

Someone stepped out, holding a black umbrella, and walked over to me, shielding me from the rain.

I looked up.

And just like that, I was staring into the eyes of Asher Ford.

He tilted the umbrella slightly, revealing his face. It was the same, yet not the same.

His expression was blank, his thin lips parting slightly.

"This is the pathetic life youve made for yourself without me."

An indescribable sorrow pierced my heart.

My hand, gripping the tricycle's handlebar, turned white. My nails dug deep into my palm.

Yes.

This was the tenth year since I had abandoned him.

This was the pathetic, broken creature I had become, just struggling to survive.

Raindrops slid from the edge of his tailored suit jacket. He saw the blood seeping through my pants leg. The ice in his eyes melted, replaced by something sharper, more urgent.

He crouched down. The cuff of his expensive trousers dipped into the filthy puddle at his feet.

Asher's hand came to rest on my back, his thumb brushing over my sharp shoulder blade. He paused.

"We're going to the hospital."

A few scrapes.

Compared to not being able to afford food after a doctor's visit...

I didn't have a choice.

I struggled, pushing him away. "I'm fine."

Asher's outstretched hand froze in mid-air. He stared at my face, a bitter, angry smile twisting his lips. His voice was cold.

"Ten years, Iris. You're just as stubborn and ungrateful as you've always been."

04

His words made the color drain from my face.

Just then, a young woman got out of the Maybach. She walked straight to Asher's side.

"Asher, everyone's waiting for us. What's taking so long?"

Her voice was soft, almost a purr.

The space under the umbrella suddenly felt crowded. I took a step back.

The woman's eyes flickered over me, a look of disgust flashing across her face as if she'd seen something foul. It was gone so quickly I thought I might have imagined it.

"If we don't leave now, we'll be late. It's your celebration dinner tonight. People will think we're being divas."

She linked her arm through his. Asher just stared at me, not resisting her touch.

The two of them stood there together.

His champagne-colored suit, her matching dress.

They looked like a perfect couple.

My carefully constructed walls of composure began to crumble.

I looked down. "I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I'm blocking your way."

I turned and scrambled back onto my tricycle, twisting the key.

In the rearview mirror, the rain-swept world receded.

It had been ten years.

I thought I was over it.

But in that single moment, the dull ache in my heart became a suffocating agony.

I didn't dare to stop, didn't dare to look back.

The thick fog of rain closed in, separating us completely.

05

The parking lot of The Crestmont was filled with luxury cars.

I locked up my tricycle and pushed open the door to the private room. The people inside looked vaguely familiar.

It took me a second to realize.

They were my old high school classmates.

The moment I walked in, the atmosphere froze. A dozen pairs of eyes raked over me, taking in my mud-caked rubber boots, my soaked pants, my wet hair dripping onto the floor. The face reflected in the glass was pale and makeup-free.

"Iris?"

The woman who had been with Asher stood up. A flash of disgust and excitement crossed her face. "So it was you back there."

Her smile widened. She turned to the others. "See? What did I tell you? Twenty bucks, and she comes running like a dog."

Her tone was light, but the words were dripping with contempt.

Her face was unfamiliar, but her voice... suddenly, I knew who she was.

After I broke up with Asher, I had gone through a period where anyone and everyone felt they could walk all over me.

Sophia had dragged me into the school bathroom and held my head under the faucet. Her friends had pinned me down while she ground her heel into my hand. Then she'd crouched down, slapping me over and over.

"You love pretending to be so pure to seduce Asher, don't you? Go on, cry. Let's see if he comes to save you now."

Ten years later, the memory still made my hands tremble.

I fought back the wave of nausea rising in my throat.

"Is there a Mr. Collins here? I have your order."

A man stood up. I recognized him. Mark Collins. He had been one of Sophia's admirers back in the day.

"Wow, Iris. Look at you. Is there even any point in living like this?"

"Yeah, if I were her, I'd find a ditch to jump into. Or... I guess some things are easy to sell. Deliver a fish, and maybe something else on the side?"

A wave of low, cruel laughter spread through the room.

Someone whispered, "When Asher gets here and sees her looking like this, he's going to puke."

At that, a look of pure, unadulterated pleasure crossed Sophia's face.

I had to get paid. I had to get out of there before Asher arrived. I swallowed my pride.

I held out the fish. "Your order is here. Who's paying?"

Mark, trying to look like a big shot, pulled out his phone. "Fifty bucks. Keep the change." He leered at me, his eyes roaming my body. "You're cheap anyway."

Amidst a chorus of lewd chuckles, I pulled out my own phone, the screen a spiderweb of cracks, and opened the payment app.

"This is a wild-caught yellow croaker. It's five hundred dollars a pound."

06

The laughter died instantly.

Mark was the first to react. "What?! Five hundred a pound?!"

Sophia frowned, her face a mask of disdain. "Iris, I know things are tough for you, but you can't just scam your old classmates. It's not like any of us have money to burn."

My patience was gone. "That's the market price."

Mark's face flushed with anger and embarrassment. He lunged forward and slapped my phone out of my hand. The old, fragile thing went flying.

He gave me a hard shove. "You greedy bitch! Are you out of your fucking mind?!"

I stumbled and fell. The black bag holding the fish hit a display shelf, sending a cascade of porcelain crashing to the floor.

The expensive fish flopped wildly on the ground, its struggles spattering stinking water and slime everywhere.

Sophia shrieked, staring in horror at a fish scale that had landed on her dress. "This is custom-made! Asher ordered it for me! Did you do this on purpose?"

Someone threw a wad of napkins at me. "Do you have any idea how much that dress costs? You couldn't afford it in a hundred lifetimes, you worthless trash!"

Others chimed in.

"People like her are just full of petty jealousy. Get on your knees and clean it up!"

"She's still the same as she was in high school. Poor, dirty, and pathetic."

The red tablecloth lay at my feet like a pool of blood.

I reached for my phone, wanting to call the police.

Someone playfully stuck out a foot, kicking the battered phone across the floor. The battery popped out.

I scrambled to get it, but someone pinned me down.

Every nerve in my body was screaming.

Creeak.

The door to the room opened.

A tall figure was silhouetted against the light from the hallway. An expensive suit jacket framed a perfect physique.

A pair of beautiful eyes found mine.

There was no warmth in them.

Only a cold, detached indifference.

His gaze was as heavy as the storm outside, soaking the last tattered shreds of my dignity.

The world went silent.

I could barely breathe.

"What are you all doing?"

His voice was quiet, but it carried an undeniable weight.

07

I lowered my head and picked up the pieces of my phone.

Asher stopped, the tip of his expensive shoe nearly touching my cheap rubber boot.

Amid the stench of fish, I could smell the clean, woody scent of his cologne.

His long, elegant hand opened, palm up.

"Your number."

Every eye in the room snapped to us.

Sophia bit her lip. "Asher, Mark was just trying to help an old classmate out, but she tried to take advantage..."

Asher tapped his phone a few times. A cold, mechanical voice cut through her words.

[Payment received: $3,000.]

His face was unreadable. "I'm paying."

Under the weight of everyone's stares, I avoided his eyes.

"Thank you," I whispered.

My knee throbbed where I'd fallen.

I staggered to my feet and turned to leave.

Outside, the rain was coming down in sheets. It ran into my eyes, stinging. The cuts on my palms were starting to bleed again.

At least I got paid.

I let out a long, shaky breath.

08

The truth was, shortly after we broke up, my family went bankrupt.

My father took his mistress and fled the country. He had already transferred all his assets. He didn't leave a single penny for my sister and me.

My sister's health was poor, and over the years, she had only gotten sicker.

I told myself that on my way to the hospital, I would buy her a pretty hair clip.

The roar of an engine grew closer.

That Maybach cut me off again.

Asher's face was dark.

"Get in the car."

I said nothing.

He frowned, letting out an impatient sigh. "Iris, do you have to be so stubborn?"

People were starting to stare. He was a public figure now. A scene would be bad for him.

Just as I was about to get in, my phone buzzed with a piercing ringtone.

I fumbled to answer it.

"Miss Miller? It's the hospital. Your sister's condition has taken a turn for the worse. You need to get here immediately."

A roar filled my ears.

Those words shattered what little strength I had left.

"What's wrong?"

Asher's eyes flickered to my screen, and from my devastated reaction, he knew.

"I'll take you to the hospital."

I didn't resist this time. I got in the car.

In the hospital room, the nurse's expression was full of pity. "We were able to stabilize her, but the kidney failure is progressing faster than we thought..."

She paused, the unspoken words heavy in the air. "The money you paid last month just covered her basic treatment. The cost of the transplant evaluation and finding a match is... substantial. You need to start thinking about how you're going to manage it."

I barely heard the rest. My mind was a chaotic mess.

The beep of the monitor was a cold, steady rhythm. Lily lay on the bed, so small and fragile, the IV tubes like vines, tethering her to this world.

So thin, so small, so young.

Like a porcelain doll.

I didn't even dare to touch her hand.

When I looked up, Asher was gone.

I closed the door to her room and went to the stairwell.

Every step felt like I was walking on cotton.

I crouched in a corner, burying my face in my knees.

And finally, I let myself cry in silence.

For ten years, the only thing that had kept me going was my sister.

But the mountain of medical bills was crushing me.

What was I going to do?

09

Click. The stairwell door opened.

Asher stood there. He saw my tear-streaked face and quickly looked away, shielding me from the view of the nurse behind him. He handed her something.

"She's not here. Could you please give this to her later?"

He didn't look at me again as he closed the door.

I quickly wiped my eyes and went back to the room.

The nurse handed me a few thin receipts.

"The gentleman who was just here asked me to give you these." She gave me a kind smile. "Also, your sister will be moved to our best private room today."

My hands trembled as I looked at the receipts.

The pre-paid amount was a number that made my head spin.

Ten years of bitterness.

When we broke up, he had hated me. Hated me enough to wish me dead.

But today, he had paid for everything without a second thought.

I stumbled out of the stairwell and ran.

His tall, straight back was just at the end of the hallway.

"Asher!"

My voice was breathless from running.

The empty corridor was bathed in a sterile, white light that illuminated the detached expression on his face.

"Thank you."

Meeting his deep, dark eyes, I clenched the hem of my shirt. "I'll find a way to pay you back. I can write an IOU, with interest..."

Before I could finish, he let out a short, sharp laugh.

"Do you really think I care about the interest?"

He took a step closer, his eyes like daggers. "Lily is like a sister to me. She used to call me her big brother. So swallow your pathetic pride. This has nothing to do with you."

I bit my lip, humiliated.

Asher tossed a paper bag at me.

"Antiseptic."

He turned and walked away without another word.

Only then did I feel the stinging, burning pain in my leg.

It was a scene that felt strangely familiar.

Years ago, during gym class, I had scraped my leg and was sitting alone in the shade.

A shadow fell over me.

The sunlight dappled through the leaves, landing on Asher's white shirt.

He held out a paper bag.

"This kind disinfects faster. It doesn't hurt as much."

He had rolled up my pant leg and knelt at my feet, carefully cleaning the wound. His thin lips were set in a serious line, but they had a faint, reddish tint.

On impulse, I had leaned in and kissed him.

A light, fleeting touch.

He had looked up, the tips of his ears bright red, but his gaze was steady.

"That's not how you do it," he'd said. "Let me teach you."

But then...

Everything had gone wrong.