My parents hoped that I would develop a relationship with Dylan and that our families would unite after my college graduation. But all I wanted was to see Marcel.
When the main courses started to arrive, the door was finally pushed open.
A tall, rebellious-looking young man sauntered in, his buzz cut standing defiantly as he was chewing gum. His handsome face was filled with restlessness and gloom.
He was dressed in a leather jacket, black T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers, with a helmet in hand. His look stood out in stark contrast to Dylan's laid-back outfit.
The people in the private room frowned. Marcel's father picked up his fork, ready to throw them at Marcel, but my dad stopped him.
Only I curled my lips into a smile, my eyes narrowing with joy.
Unfortunately, Marcel didn't even glance at me. He sat down and began eating, not speaking a word or even lifting his head.
My mom whispered in my ear, "See how rude he is? Stay as far away from him as you can."
I remained silent, thinking, 'He's actually a good person; it's you who don't know.'
...