The man in the black suit sat quietly on the sofa, the red skirt in the glass slowly rotated along the arc of the wine glass, returning to calm.
It's a party after a wedding.
The groom's left hand is holding a loose bow tie, the neckline of the white shirt is slightly opened, revealing the slender neck line, his eyes are lazy but with a slight smile, as if walking on the clouds.
Originally, if such a man clings to red wine to clink glasses with the guests, it will be very pleasing to the eye, but he is carrying two bottles of beer.
"Hey... Vann Winston..." The groom Chen Mobai sat down on the sofa and turned his face to look at Winston.
Winston thought, this is probably what the Chinese call peach blossom eyes.
"You're a little drunk." Winston put down the wine glass.
His voice was cold, and in such a slightly drunken air, people couldn't help but wake up.
"How do you know I'm a little drunk?"
"Because you called me by name and surname."
The groom, Chen Mobai, stretched out his hand to remove the wine glass in front of him, and solemnly placed the beer he brought in front of him.
"Then you should get yourself drunk too. Don't be too sober... Life is short, have fun."
"Then how shall I have fun?"
"Do what you want to do." Chen Mobai tapped his fingers in the air.
"How do I do what I want?" Winston asked again.
"If you want something, don't lock up your craving, let it out completely, give it all to that person. Let him drown in your craving... Even if you don't say a word, the other person will be like what you want Want him to be the same - crazy for you."
Chen Mobai took a swig of beer from the bottle.
"Can you succeed without saying a word?"
Winston's voice was always indifferent, like an ancient river, following a permanent trajectory from one end to the other.
"Don't think too much, just have fun..." Chen Mobai got up and walked towards the small figure who was chatting happily with his friends.
He didn't say anything, just smiled and looked at his bride, slowly pulled her out of his friends, lowered his nose and rubbed the tip of her nose, and continued to look at each other.
The air became slow, and everyone's heart seemed to be lifted by a hand.
Friends shouted "can't stand it", "started to abuse the dog again", "walk around, let's go home".
Winston nodded to bid farewell to the host, picked up the wine bottle on the table, and left with the guests.
Just as he closed the door, Chen Mobai's voice sounded: "Hey... Winston... "
"Huh?" Winston turned around.
"You can be sexy." Chen Mobai smiled.
Winston raised his hand and turned to leave.
He called a taxi and came to a cemetery. The entrance door was closed, all the lights went out, only the moonlight fell like a veil on the undulating tombstones.
It doesn't look terrifying, on the contrary, it is quiet and peaceful, as if everything in the world is silent.
Winston turned his face to the side, vague and mysterious under the backlight.
"Just in time?"
I only saw this slender figure take two steps back, and then rushed towards the iron gate with great explosive force, leaping past.
After landing, he tore off his bow tie and threw it aside, turned around and brought back the beer bottle on the other side of the door from between the iron bars.
Rows of tombstones seemed to stubbornly look up at the night sky, waiting for him to come, but Winston walked straight to the innermost without any hesitation, and stopped.
There buried his only opponent in this life - Hunter.
How ironic is it that a top Formula 1 driver dies in a car accident
What's even more ironic is that no matter how many so-called "geniuses" have followed, Vann Winston is still the king of loneliness.
Winston placed the beer in front of Hunter's tombstone, his lips curved, seemingly calmly lifting the night.
"Hunter... Don't you think that if you want to die, it should be more cost-effective to be killed by me?"
"Do you remember when you said you would grant me a wish on my birthday? My wish is... I hope you live, love me like I love you, and love me like crazy."
He leaned down, still in a restrained and elegant posture, leaning his forehead lightly on the other's tombstone.
Early the next morning, Winston sat up with his head pressed.
The phone rang, he grabbed it, and the flashing name on it surprised him.
That was the name of his former strength and conditioning coach. They broke up the partnership five years ago. The coach went to sell sporting goods and became a very successful businessman.
"Hey, Winston! I've been waiting for you for almost ten minutes! It's not like you're late for training!"
"You waiting for me? Why?" Winston sat up.
"Why wait for you? Are you okay? Is the fitness coach waiting for you to go to the movies together?"
Winston frowned, trying to say something, but got up and pulled the curtains back.
The sunlight was a little dazzling, and when he saw the billboard across the building, he was stunned.
That was an ad for a hit movie from five years ago!
The scene on the street and the clothes of the pedestrians made him feel unfamiliar but familiar.
And the bronze statue, which was torn down two years ago, is still standing there with unparalleled clarity.
Everything is the same as in memory, but not the same.
"Today... what day is it?" Winston closed his eyes and asked.
"May 12, what's wrong?" The coach was a little suspicious.
In his impression, Winston is well-organized in everything he does, even a little obsessive-compulsive... How could he not remember what day and month it is today
"Which year?" Winston's fingers clasped the phone tightly, his phalanx turning white from the force.
The moment he heard the year, Winston suddenly threw his phone on the bed, ran to the desk, pulled open the drawer, took out the schedule, and quickly spread it out.
His eyes went from top to bottom, until the moment he saw the name, his pupils seemed to burst open.
— Evan Hunt, Marcus Racing.
The still time galloped wildly at that moment.