"Mark, your melodies are pulling me in, but I'm wrestling with these lyrics."
"Well, can't blame the guitar for wanting to dance with your words. And yes, I admit, my hotness is a bit distracting."
"Mark, let the lyrics take center stage without dis...
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Mark stared at Jia, his expression a mix of disbelief, hurt, and something else she couldn’t quite place. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice came out low, almost shaky, as if he was holding back a flood of emotions. “You knew about the blog. You knew how much it meant to me, and you never said a word?”
Jia shifted uncomfortably, pulling her knees up on the couch, her fingers nervously tracing the edge of the book in her lap. “I only recently started really getting to know you,” she said softly, avoiding his gaze. “It was supposed to be a secret, Mark. No one was supposed to find out. Not even Mihi or Jaemin, and they’ve known me for years.”
Mark’s jaw tightened. He had suspected it for a while, the way the poems on the blog felt too personal, too similar to Jia’s style. But hearing it from her now still felt like a punch to the gut. “So you never thought to tell me? Even when we started spending more time together? You still didn’t trust me enough?”
Jia looked at him, her voice steady but soft. “It wasn’t about trust. I’ve kept this from everyone, Mark. The blog isn’t about me, it’s about giving people a space to share their stories. It needed to stay anonymous for that reason.”
Mark let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Anonymous? Jia, you are the owner of the blog.” He took a step back, the hurt in his eyes deepening. “The first ever story you published... that was mine.”
Jia froze. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized what he was saying. “Mark...”
“That’s how you knew.” His voice was barely above a whisper now, but there was an edge of anger in it. “You knew I had creative block way before we became friends, before you even started talking to me. You knew because I sent my story to your blog, and you read it.”
Jia swallowed hard, guilt washing over her. She had hoped this moment would never come, that he would never connect the dots. “I... I didn’t think”
“You didn’t think I’d find out?” Mark’s voice cracked, his frustration spilling over. “You knew what I was going through, Jia. You used to text me, didn’t you? Those random encouragements, the messages that helped me through the worst of it... they were from you, from the blog.”
Jia’s silence was all the confirmation he needed. He had been right. All those messages, those words of support from a faceless stranger, she had been the one behind them.
“It wasn’t like that,” Jia whispered, her voice trembling. “I didn’t know it was you at first. And when I realized... I didn’t want you to feel exposed or uncomfortable. I just wanted to help.”
“Help?” Mark’s voice was sharp now, anger flashing in his eyes. “How do you think it feels knowing that the person who was supposed to be a stranger, the one I thought I could trust to share my struggles with, was you all along? You knew everything about me before we even had a real conversation, and you never told me. You kept pretending.”
