Miss Unattainable

10

Ann Mei didn't know when exactly she fell in love with Gianna. Certainly, when she first saw Georgianna ten years ago in Seattle, she was not impressed with who she knew to be an entitled nepo baby. And although that was true, it didn't stop her from liking the woman.

Gianna was very charming—her mischievous grin and playful energy had a way of instantly drawing attention. She loved teasing and joking around with people and her sharp sense of humor that never failed to keep things light. And it was hard not to notice the way Gianna's eyes flashed when she was passionate about an idea, and her effortless confidence—and arrogance.

She was attractive, and she knew it. Many times, Ann Mei caught her attention accidentally drifting to her, eyes stealing glances in the woman's direction. Tall and slender, she often dressed in tailored attire with feminine elements—sleek work dresses, polished heels, and red glossy lipstick.

However, during her time at Angelis Investments, their relationship grew more and more strained, to say the least. Gianna barely acknowledged Ann Mei in the office, in meetings, and was generally curt and dismissive. Her gaze would skim over her, like she was an afterthought in her world, someone not worth her time. Instead, the woman spent her time chatting with other colleagues and attending numerous events on her father's behalf.

And yet, Ann Mei couldn't shake the attraction. Something about her still drew her in; moth to a flame. It frustrated her endlessly —she knew Gianna saw her as just another one of her father's employees, someone to pass off her work on and call when she needed to be taken care of. Her selfishness was her worst trait; the clique behavior, playing into the social dynamics that suited her, and yet she rarely acknowledged her own privileges. To her, the world revolved around what made sense for her life and her desires.

Truthfully, Ann Mei should have hated the woman. Every slight, every dismissive remark, should've made her resent Gianna. Ann Mei constantly told himself it was stupid, and that she should just focus on his work and stop wasting energy on a woman who would never like her back. Even trying to talk to her was a struggle. Ann Mei wasn't the type to command attention in a room—she preferred to stay in the background, quietly observing. But Gianna was the opposite; she was so sharp, so self-assured, that every time Ann Mei tried to speak to her, the words seemed to catch in her throat.

When she did manage to say something, it was always halting, careful. Ann Mei would search for any flicker of acknowledgement, but more often than not, she'd dismiss her with a glance or a quick word, before moving on. The awkward silence that followed only deepened her discomfort, making him feel invisible. Words didn't come to her easily; they never had. So, she stayed quiet, trapped between her admiration of her and her frustration and yearning for her attention in ways she could never articulate.

The times they were the closest was when Gianna needed help; when she was drunk and high and half incoherent. Despite the woman's carefree nature, Ann Mei could sense something much darker lurking inside her. For all her recklessness and seeming indifference, she cared deeply about the people she loved and how she treated them. She had an almost self-sacrificial streak when it came to pleasing her friends and father, throwing herself into any situation if it meant pleasing them.

Perhaps that was what Ann Mei hated the most; her self-destructiveness. Despite the distance between them and the way she brushed her aside, she couldn't help her protectiveness. Maybe it was the way her confidence sometimes seemed more like a shield, or the way she would never admit she had a drinking problem. Ann Mei found herself always watching, looking for signs that she was struggling, and waiting to swoop in if she needed her. Every time her father ridiculed her, demeaned her intelligence and charisma, Ann Mei was furious. She wanted to step in, defend her—though she never did.