Choosing New Love Over Ex

Oscar Lane, the superstar singer, was doing a live stream when some eagle-eyed fans noticed something:

"Hey man, why does your silver bracelet look kinda dull? Is it a fake?"

That bracelet was a gift from me back when we were dating.

I had said, "If times get really tough, sell it and let it help you follow your dreams."

He scoffed, "Don’t kid yourself. A silver bracelet won't even cover a month's groceries."

But Oscar, feeling a bit curious, cracked the bracelet open, revealing the solid gold core inside.

77 grams of gold, my entire savings back then.

The love concealed beneath the silver surface was finally, albeit belatedly, discovered by him.

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I hadn’t updated my alternate Instagram account in four years.

I'd forgotten the password myself.

I never expected fans to dig it up.

That account used to share snippets of our relationship.

In the only video where my face isn’t shown, a girl records herself planning a travel journal:

"This is the itinerary I planned, covering 42 sights in 29 cities. One day, when Oscar and I have the money, we'll go together!"

From offscreen, a boy's voice came in, both helpless and doting: "So many places, how long will it take to see them all?"

"Hmph, if you're not interested, I'll go alone."

"How could I not be interested? Wherever my little Mere goes, I'll follow."

His voice is unmistakable.

Our past romance turned into an open secret in the industry.

The fan community quickly created a forum overnight.

But half a year ago, during an interview, I stated bluntly that I was single.

Obviously.

Oscar and I were long over.

Nostalgia is a double-edged sword.

Fans spent the night scouring my Instagram, laughing and crying at the memories.

Bored, I also scrolled through Instagram.

Many solo fans, riding the wave of nostalgia, highlighted Oscar’s achievements in trending topics:

"Best Male Singer Award at the Grammy Awards."

"Most Popular Male Singer at the Music Awards."

"Top Ten Hits on the Billboard Charts."

"Singer's Concert with Top Audience Demand..."

He became a shining star in the pop world.

But I still remember the young man sitting on the bed of his rented room, strumming his guitar and singing.

His white shirt was worn and faded, but his eyes were full of dreams.

"Mere, I’m gonna make it big. I’m going to earn a lot, so you can make any film you want!"

Now, he really has.

Yet our past is long buried in the sands of time.

Impossible to retrieve.

Maybe because my thoughts lingered on him, I didn’t sleep well.

The next day at the charity gala, I sat in the dressing room, yawning endlessly.

"Meredith."

I turned around, surprised to see Xander Sullivan, the Oscar-winning actor, calling me.

Expecting a schedule change, I was caught off guard when he handed me a handful of fruit candies.

"Have some candy to wake you up."

Xander, dressed in a custom navy and black suit, exuded an