After Knowing My Identity, My Boyfriend Begged at My Feet

On the eve of National Day, after three sleepless nights of refreshing the ticketing app, I finally managed to secure two highspeed rail tickets home—one for me and one for my boyfriend.

I let out a long sigh of relief, only for my phone to buzz with his message.

[Rosalie is in a bad mood. I gave her your ticket.]

[See if you can still grab a standing ticket. It's only seven or eight hours anyway.]

I stared at the canceled order on my screen, my chest tightening.

After a moment of silence, I took a deep breath and dialed a different number.

"Dad, can our private jet land directly at the entrance of my university?"

——

On the other end, there was a twosecond pause. Clearly, my father was startled by the abrupt and rather extravagant request. But he knew me well. I wasn't the type to throw tantrums without reason.

"Yes," he agreed without hesitation. "No problem."

"Thanks, Dad."

"You don't need to thank me. We'll talk when you get home."

The call had barely ended when my boyfriend, Kervin, rang me, his tone sharp with impatience.

"Danna! What's wrong with you? Why aren't you answering my messages?"

His voice carried blame, as though I were the one being unreasonable.

"It's just a ticket. Do you really have to throw a fit? Rosalie is upset! Why couldn't you show a little understanding?"

My grip on the phone tightened until my fingertips whitened. "My ticket. You canceled it without asking me?"

"It was urgent!" he shot back, sounding selfrighteous. "Rosalie didn't do well on her exams. She's been feeling particularly down and lacking energy. The businessclass seat you booked is quieter, more comfortable—it's perfect for helping her relax.

"And besides, why didn't you book an extra one when you got the tickets? Now it's all such a mess!"

I almost laughed at the absurdity of his logic.

"Kervin, I stayed up three whole nights for those two tickets. My eyes burned from staring at the screen, and my fingers were sore from refreshing nonstop.

"This was supposed to be our first trip home together. I wanted it to be a memory we both cherished. And you—without a word to me—gave my ticket away to someone else?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" His voice rose. "Danna, I don't know when you became so coldhearted and petty."

"Rosalie is your friend too, isn't she? She's studying alone in a different city—it's not easy for her. Shouldn't we look out for her? And you're hung up over one ticket?"

"Not easy?" I echoed softly, my chest hollow with disbelief. "Do you think I have it easy? Seven or eight hours standing on a packed train—that's nothing to you?"

"So what if it's a standing ticket? Just a little hardship and you're already complaining? When did you become so spoiled?" His voice was laced with disappointment now.

"I thought you were kind and sensible. Turns out you're vain. Just because you lost a businessclass seat, you think it's embarrassing? Is that why you're making such a fuss?"

Vain?

The word stabbed into me like a cold blade.

He thought I was throwing a tantrum over a businessclass seat. He had no idea it wasn't about the seat. It was never about the seat!

All I wanted was to go home with him, side by side, sharing the journey.

If I wanted, one word from me and my father could buy the entire train outright. But that wasn't the point.

Now, I had no desire to explain. I only wanted to watch how far he and his delicate little "friend" could take this act.

I stayed silent for a few seconds.

To Kervin, my silence sounded like guilt and compromise.

His tone softened slightly, but still carried a condescending edge of someone granting a favor.

"Alright, stop sulking. I know you're upset. I'll take you to a movie later to make it up to you, okay?"

"Now hurry and see if you can still get a standing ticket. Rosalie and I will wait for you at the station when you arrive."

I could practically picture the selfsatisfied look on his face, convinced he was being generous and considerate.

"No need," I said evenly.

"What do you mean, ‘no need'? What's that supposed to mean?" Kervin sounded startled.

"I mean, you two keep the tickets. I'll handle my own way back. Don't trouble yourselves." My tone was flat, emotionless.

"Danna! Do you have to be like this?" His voice sharpened again, tinged with irritation.

"Stop acting like a child. How are you going to get home by yourself? You can't get another ticket. What are you going to do, fly back?"

Fly? A bitter laugh rose in my chest.

Yes, as a matter of fact, I really could fly back.

I drew a deep breath, reining in my emotions. "I'm just saying I'll figure something out. You take care of Rosalie."

When Kervin sensed I was giving in, his tone finally softened, laced with a touch of satisfaction.

“That’s better. Don’t make trouble.”

He paused, then added, “Now hurry up and figure out a way to buy a ticket. Even a standing one will do—don’t be so picky.”

"I'm going to grab Rosalie something to eat. She cried all night and her eyes are so swollen."

"Mm." I couldn't bring myself to say anything more.

"Alright then, I'll hang up. We'll talk later."

With that, he ended the call in a rush.

I turned back to packing slowly, folding clothes into a small suitcase for the holiday. I had just snapped it shut when my phone buzzed again—his name flashing across the screen.

It was Kervin again.

My brows knitted but I still answered, saying nothing.

"Danna," he began, sounding lighter now, more at ease than before.

"What are you doing? Any luck with the tickets?"

"Haven't checked." My reply was curt.

He hesitated at my coldness, but quickly pressed on, almost breezy.

"Oh... that's fine, no rush. So, um... Rosalie just woke up. When she heard you gave up your seat for her, she felt really guilty. She said she wants to bring you some specialties from her hometown as a thanks..."

I stayed silent, waiting. I didn't believe for a second that Rosalie was so "kindhearted."

Sure enough, his tone shifted.

"Actually, Danna, there's one more thing..."

He hesitated, then continued awkwardly, "After the holiday, it'll be hard to get seats in the library. Since you'll probably... not have much to do at home anyway, maybe you could... come back a couple of days early and save spots for me and Rosalie? We want to study together."

A laugh of pure disbelief slipped from my lips.

Suddenly, memories flashed through my mind. At the start of the semester, clutching a brandnew laptop, I ran to his dorm with a cup of milk tea, and said with brighteyed excitement, "I heard the window seats on the third floor of the library overlook the ginkgo avenue. It must be gorgeous in autumn. Let's go tomorrow and study together, okay?"

Kervin frowned, brushing aside the milk tea I offered. "Stop messing around, Danna. The library is twenty minutes away. Walking there wastes time—I'd rather just stay in the dorm and read a couple more pages."

And now, for Rosalie, he wanted me—the girl whose ticket they threw away, who might've been forced to stand seven or eight hours on the train—to return early just to hold seats for the two of them?

My silence must have sounded like hesitation to him. Or worse—agreement.

"See? This way you won't be bored at home alone, and you'll be helping us too. Killing two birds with one stone, right?"

"If Rosalie finds out, she'll definitely be happy. Once her mood improves, she'll do much better on her next exam."

I forced down the wave of nausea rising in my throat.

If I tore off the mask now, I wouldn't get to witness the rest of their little performance.

Lowering my voice deliberately, I said, "...Alright. I get it. You two... have fun."

The moment I gave in, Kervin's tone turned outright cheerful, as though he had just solved a huge problem.

"That's my girl! Danna, you're always the most understanding."

"So it's settled then—you'll handle the seats for us. Preferably by the window, somewhere airy. Rosalie likes those spots."

"When we're back, I'll take you to that restaurant you've been wanting to try."

He even remembered to specify her seating preferences.

"Mm." The sound that escaped me was flat, indifferent.

"Good, then that's it. Rosalie is calling me—I'd better see what she needs."

Without waiting for my reply, he hung up hastily.

As the busy tone beeped in my ear, the last trace of my forced composure slipped from my face.

The next two days passed in calm silence.

Kervin didn't call again. He only sent me a message once, reminding me again not to forget to save seats in the library, as if Rosalie's academic success depended solely on my diligence.

On the other hand, Rosalie posted on her social feed.

It was a picture taken at a downtown café—the very one I had mentioned countless times, telling Kervin I wanted to visit.

The caption read. [It feels like hard work never pays off... I couldn't help but feel bad. Thankfully, someone is always here to comfort me. Hopefully I can relax a bit over the holiday~]

And there, plain as day, was Kervin's comment.

[I'll take you to eat something good during the holiday.]

Likes and consoling comments from mutual friends stacked neatly beneath.

Expressionless, I scrolled past, not even bothering to tap for a full view.

The afternoon before break, a knock came at my dorm door.

I opened it and, to my surprise, found Kervin standing there—with Rosalie by his side.

Rosalie's face lit up with a practiced, apologetic smile.

"Danna, we're not disturbing you, are we?"

Kervin leaned slightly, peering past me into my dorm. His gaze landed on the small suitcase I had deliberately placed in plain sight. His brows knit together ever so faintly.

"Something you need?" I asked coolly, blocking the doorway without offering to let them in.

"Oh, it's nothing serious," he replied casually, drawing his eyes back.

"Rosalie wants to head to the station early tomorrow, so I'm helping her pack. Thought I'd stop by to check on you, too."

His eyes slid back to my suitcase, sharp with scrutiny. "You... managed to get a ticket? A standing one? Are you on the same train as us?"

Rosalie blinked innocently at me, her voice tinged with concern. "If you're on the same train, that'd be perfect. We could look out for each other—help with luggage and all that."

I studied her fake, ohsoconsiderate expression, and finally spoke, slowly and evenly, "I didn't buy a ticket."

Both of them froze.

Rosalie was the first to recover, her tone carrying just the faintest trace of gloating. "What? You didn't? Oh no, Danna, how are you going to get home then? Even the standing tickets are gone? That's... really troublesome!"

Kervin's face darkened. "Danna, what have you been doing these past two days? Didn't I tell you to hurry up and get a ticket? Now you're saying you don't have one? What are you planning to do—walk all the way home from campus?"

Watching the two of them play a good cop and the bad cop almost made me laugh.

"I have my own way of going back," I said lightly.

Kervin narrowed his eyes. "What way could you possibly have?"

Kervin's tone was already laced with impatience.

"At a time like this you're still putting on an act? I knew it—you're never reliable. Can't handle anything, and now you're just going to blame me, say it's all my fault..."

"Kervin, don't be so harsh on Danna."

Rosalie tugged lightly at his sleeve before turning to me with a gentle look.

"Danna, if you really can't figure something out, my roommate has an apartment off campus. I can give you the key..."

She tapped a few times on her phone, then turned the screen toward me.

A hastily snapped photo filled the display: a cramped little room with damp stains blooming across the walls, unopened delivery boxes piled haphazardly on the floor, takeout bags spilling over, and a shaky desk with a halfeaten instant noodle cup still sitting on it.

I studied the picture of the dingy, nearly unlivable space.

"No need." I declined again, the corners of my lips curling slightly as my gaze slid over the two of them.

"My way home is... a little faster than the train."

Kervin clearly didn't believe me, assuming I was just being stubborn for the sake of pride. He waved a hand dismissively.

"Fine, fine. Do whatever you want. Just don't blame me if you can't make it home."

"Tomorrow morning Rosalie and I are leaving early. Don't forget about the library seats, that's all that matters."

With that, he dragged Rosalie off without another glance.

...

The day of departure dawned bright and clear.

I rolled my small suitcase out of the dorm building, but hadn't made it far before the last voices I wanted to hear reached me from behind.

"Danna, even without a ticket you're heading out?"

Rosalie hurried closer, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

"Does that mean... you found a place to stay after all?"

Kervin frowned at me, his expression was filled with annoyance, as though I were a child causing unnecessary trouble.

"Didn't you say you didn't get a ticket? Then why are you dragging a suitcase around? Don't tell me you're planning to take one of those longdistance buses..."

Disgust dripped from his voice.

"Those things are awful—cramped, packed with whoknowswhat kind of people. One of my roommates tried it once, and his clothes reeked of cheap gasoline and sweat when he got back. The stench gave me a headache."

Crossing his arms, he even stepped back deliberately, like I'd already contaminated myself with that same foul odor.

"If you're really taking that kind of bus, then don't bother meeting me anytime soon. It's embarrassing."

His expression carried the same disdain as if I were doing something shameful that would tarnish his image.

"Kervin, don't be so mean..." Rosalie gave me a sympathetic look, her tone was laced with false kindness.

"Danna must be desperate. That little apartment I mentioned—it may be small and a bit old, but it's fine as a temporary place to crash. Better than squeezing onto some awful bus. I'll give you the key now if you want."

Her words made it sound like I had sunk so low I needed her to graciously offer me a kennel to crawl into.

Kervin, hearing this, only grew more selfrighteous. "See how kindhearted Rosalie is? Don't be ungrateful."

"Just take the key and stay there. Better than wandering around pointlessly—and it'll make it easier for you to save us those library seats."

Watching the two of them sing their little duet, whatever faint trace of hope I still held for him finally went cold.

I forced a thin smile. "No need. I have somewhere to go."

"Somewhere to go?" Kervin's brows furrowed even tighter, disbelief etched across his face.

"Where could you possibly go? You don't have any relatives or friends around here."

"Home," I answered evenly.

"Home?" He let out a short, incredulous laugh. "You didn't get a ticket. How are you going home—flying?"

Maybe his words were meant as nothing more than angry sarcasm.

But I nodded seriously.

"Mm. I'm flying back on a private jet."

At that instant, the air froze.

The fake kindness on Rosalie's face stiffened, like someone had pressed pause button.

Kervin stood there, stunned, until a few seconds later when fury rushed up, burning away his shock.

"Danna!"

"Are you insane? Do you even hear yourself? A private jet? Why don't you just say you're taking a rocket home?!"

His voice rose with every word, brimming with contempt.

"You didn't get a ticket, that's fine. But to spin such an obvious lie just to save face? You only make yourself look pathetic!"

Rosalie finally found her voice and gave his sleeve a soft tug, her tone all gentle and sympathetic. "Kervin, don't be angry... Danna must be too upset, and desperate, that's why she said something like that. Let's... try to understand her."

"Understand?" Kervin sneered, eyes filled with disappointment and disgust.

"How am I supposed to understand this? Danna, how did I never realize you were this vain, this irrational?"

"A private jet? Do you even know what you're talking about? You can't even buy a single businessclass ticket without struggling for three days, and now you expect me to believe this nonsense?"

I looked at his furious face, then at Rosalie's expression—barely hiding her gloating amusement.

Suddenly, it all felt meaningless.

Arguing with them was like playing music to a cow—just pointless.

I couldn't be bothered to explain.