Apparently, when he first entered college, he became quite popular due to his good looks and aloof attitude towards people. Connor’s position as the most popular guy in the department was almost threatened.
But later, someone dug up his family history and posted it on the school forum. People’s attitudes towards him changed 180 degrees
overnight.
The reason was simple: he had a mentally ill father who was a murderer.
When it happened, Liam was only five years old. He witnessed his frenzied father kill his mother with a knife, then walk towards him step by step. Fortunately, before the knife fell, his father came to his senses, but realizing what he had done, the tremendous fear and guilt made him drop the knife and flee.
In the end, it was a neighbor returning from work who discovered something was wrong, opened the door to find a murder had occurred next door, and shakily called the police. When the police arrived, the body was lying in a pool of blood, already cold. The five–year–old boy was curled up in a corner, his body trembling uncontrollably, his gaze blank.
After that, Liam’s father remained missing. The police couldn’t find his whereabouts. Liam only had a distant relative, but that family
considered him a burden and sent him to an orphanage.
The person who posted on the forum described it vividly, claiming to be Liam’s high school classmate who had personally witnessed Liam go berserk, pinning a much taller senior against the wall and beating him.
The reason seemed to be that the senior had made a joke about Liam’s parents.
Everyone said that his reckless, life–risking craziness must have been inherited from his father, and so rumors of Liam having a mental illness spread throughout their Computer Science department.
I read all the posts about Liam on the forum. Far from being scared, I felt a bit sorry for him.
… I must have been influenced by the text messages from these past few days.
There was a photo of Liam on the forum, a candid shot taken by someone. In the photo, he was glaring at the camera, his eyes wild and cold.
I stared at that photo again and again, conflicted all night, and decided to go find Liam and see the situation for myself.
Finding Liam wasn’t difficult at all. I didn’t even need to ask anyone. Standing outside their classroom window and looking in, I could spot him at a glance among the sea of people.
His aura was unique. At this age, college students often like to wear a few branded items, each one full of youthful energy. Liam was different. He sat alone in the last row, wearing the simplest white t–shirt, with black hair and black eyes, like a stagnant pool untouched by sunlight, out of
place in this world.
<
I compared this face with the photo on the forum and could confirm it was him.
Perhaps my gaze was too intense, he suddenly looked in my direction. Our eyes met, his gaze sharp. Caught peeking, my heart skipped a beat, and under the influence of guilt, I reflexively crouched down, hiding under the window.
Only after crouching did I realize how strange this looked. I wasn’t a peeping tom, why was I feeling guilty?
As the bell rang, people poured out of the classroom. I stood on tiptoe looking for Liam. As expected, he was walking at the back of the crowd, carrying a shoulder bag, his expression quiet and indifferent.
Because of the rumors, everyone’s attitude towards him was both wary and fearful. While others were in groups of three or five, there was no one around him. The sense of loneliness was palpable.
I couldn’t help but call out to him: “Hey!”
I ran up to him, took out my phone, “You’re Liam Blackwood, right? Hi, I’m Aria Winters from the Design department. Can I add you on SnapChat?”
This was the first time in my life I had ever approached a boy on my own.
While I was feeling nervous, Liam stopped and looked at me. I couldn’t tell if it was surprise or expectation in his voice: “You know me?”
His voice was quite pleasant, very clean.
To not seem too abrupt, I answered honestly: “I didn’t know you before, but I want to know you now. Is that okay?”
Liam didn’t seem satisfied with my answer.
He said, “No, it’s not.”
Those eyes returned to their previous emotionless state, as if the expectation I saw in them earlier was just my imagination.
He strode past me. I called his name, only to receive a cold response: “Don’t follow me.”
Hello??
Don’t you know this is how you lose me?
At midnight, the message from the future arrived on my phone right on time:
It was still that same, unshakeable, almost like a death warrant: “Quickly go to the Computer Science department and find Liam Blackwood.”
Thinking of what happened during the day, I replied with a depressed mood: “I went today. Are you sure you didn’t make a mistake? I feel like he doesn’t like me at all. He doesn’t even seem to know me.”
In my depression, I also felt a bit wronged. I didn’t know where this sense of grievance came from. Was it because I had enthusiastically approached someone only to be coldly rejected? Or was it because it was Liam?
That glance he gave me through the glass today left a deep impression. I think I might have… fallen for him at first sight.
