Chapter 26: The Secret Behind Matching Profile Pictures
Evelyn tapped open WeChat, her finger pausing mid-air.
Alexander Hamilton had indeed changed his profile picture.
The solitary cloud that once symbolized his aloof demeanor was gone. In its place stood a cartoon boy puckering his lips to the right, as if blowing a kiss.
It didn’t take a genius to guess Annabelle Taylor’s matching avatar—a cartoon girl leaning left for a kiss.
Such a childish, overt display of coupledom clashed starkly with Alexander’s usual composed and restrained style.
No wonder Vivian Dempsey had smashed her phone in fury.
The balcony door slid open as Vivian stormed inside, her energy electric.
Evelyn quickly locked her screen and stuffed the phone into her pocket.
“Where’s your phone?” Vivian’s gaze swept the room like a bloodhound on alert.
“In my pocket,” Evelyn gestured casually. “Sixteenth floor. Didn’t want to risk dropping it.”
Vivian exhaled in relief, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Good thinking. Would’ve been a shame to break it.”
She hesitated, then added, “Try not to stare at screens too much these days. Bad for your eyes.”
“Mm.” Evelyn deftly changed the subject. “Who were you yelling at on the phone earlier?”
“Just some idiot who learned the hard way not to mess with me.” Vivian smirked, tilting her chin up. “You know how I get.”
Evelyn offered a practiced smile.
The TV droned on with midday news, dull and lifeless.
Normally, she’d be buried in work at the hospital by now. The sudden emptiness of free time made the hours drag.
“Let’s go!” Vivian sprang up. “I’m taking you to karaoke to blow off steam!”
Half an hour later, the private room thrummed with noise.
Vivian had rallied five or six friends, now belting lyrics into microphones. Amid the deafening music, Evelyn rubbed her temples.
“Your turn!” Vivian thrust a mic at her.
Evelyn shook her head. “I’m terrible at singing.”
“Who cares?” Vivian was already at the song selection screen. “Pick something! I’ll queue it!”
A young man in a polo shirt approached. His gold-rimmed glasses gave him a scholarly air.
“Need help choosing?” he asked Vivian, though his eyes lingered on Evelyn.
Vivian arched a brow. “My bestie’s a first-timer. Keep it simple.”
“Do you know any Faye Wong songs?” He turned to Evelyn.
“A few old ones.”
“How about ‘Red Bean’?”
“I can manage, but I’m rusty.”
He smiled. “I’ll guide you.”
His voice was warm, his gaze behind the lenses friendly. Just as Evelyn opened her mouth to respond, her phone buzzed insistently.
Alexander Hamilton’s name flashed across the screen.
