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When the taxi rushed to a stop under the lights of Taipei 101, Anthon almost hastily opened the door and quickly got into the car before it had fully stopped. Seeing this, Haohao hurriedly stepped forward and reached out to stop Anthon from closing the door.
Anthon abruptly turned his head inside the car, his eyes flashing with excitement and pain. His voice carried a noticeable struggle and anger: "Let go! You... let go! Let me calm down by myself!" He almost shouted, and in the face of Haohao's comfort, his reaction was full of resistance and dissatisfaction.
Haohao's face was covered with dark clouds, his eyes filled with worry and reluctance, his hand tightly gripping the car door. He tried to respond to Anthon's emotions with a calm voice: " Anthon, I know you are feeling confused right now, and you may need some time to think, but I really don't want you to face this alone. We can solve this together, no matter what happens, at least we are not alone."
Anthon's emotions seemed to be provoked by these words, his face became more contorted, his voice filled with anger: "What do you know! Do you think saying this is useful? I need space, time alone, not your sympathy or pretended understanding! How could you possibly understand how I feel right now!" His words were sharp, piercing Haohao's heart.
Anthon forcefully pushed Haohao's hand away and firmly closed the car door. The vehicle immediately started and pulled him away from Haohao's sight. Haohao stood in the night, watching the gradually receding car lights, feeling a mix of complex emotions. He knew that this conversation might just be a passing episode in their friendship, but it had exposed the hidden unease and friction between them.
As the car lights disappeared into the night, Haohao stood alone on the street. The late-night cold wind brushed past him, leaving him with an unprecedented sense of loneliness and helplessness. Anthon's words echoed in his mind, and he deeply understood that Anthon needed time alone for reflection during this period. At the same time, he pondered on how to properly support and understand his friend in the future, so that they could overcome this difficult time together.
Anthon sat in the taxi, his emotions tangled like a mess, holding his head in his hands, feeling on the verge of breaking down. Inside the car, a light elevator music was playing, the calm and simple melody forming a stark contrast with the storm in his heart, making him feel an indescribable irony.
Every note of the music seemed to ruthlessly dig into his pain points, Anthon felt his nerves being slowly shredded by invisible blades. His emotions were pushed to the extreme by this untimely music, and finally, he couldn't help but speak, his voice somewhat cold, with an imperceptible tremor: "Driver, could you please turn off the music?"
The driver heard Anthon's request and turned to look at Anthon's pained face reflected in the rearview mirror. Seeing this, he couldn't help but show a sympathetic smile, then reached out to lower the radio volume.
As the music gradually faded, the interior of the car suddenly quieted down, leaving only the slight noise of the vehicle driving. This sudden silence gave Anthon a moment to catch his breath. Although it couldn't immediately calm his emotions, it at least made him feel free from external disturbances. In this brief tranquility, he could try to organize his thoughts and calmly face the turmoil within.
Just as Anthon was finally immersed in a quiet atmosphere, trying to calm his troubled emotions, the driver suddenly spoke. His voice was deep, with an unintentional intimacy, breaking the silence in the car: "Hey! Buddy, what's wrong? Did you have a fight with your boyfriend?" The driver's words were undoubtedly well-intentioned small talk, but for Anthon who was on the emotional edge, it was like a nerve-touching match.
Upon hearing this metaphor, Anthon's emotions became even more complex and difficult to control. He responded in a frustrated and angry tone, "What the hell?" His voice, though lowered, could not hide the excitement and displeasure in his heart.
The driver seemed unaware that his words had touched Anthon's sensitive nerves. He didn't pay attention to Anthon's complaints, but instead continued in a relaxed tone, saying, "Hey boss, there's nothing that a smile can't solve."
"Brother, I'm not gay... I'm just a little confused... messed up a bit..." Every word in this statement seemed like an attempt to find a reasonable explanation for his behavior and emotions. But as the conversation deepened, Anthon's inner struggle intensified. His brow furrowed, the muscles on his face involuntarily tensed, revealing the anxiety and unease he was trying to suppress.
This response is obviously not helpful for Anthon. He feels that his emotions sharply contrast with the casual attitude of the driver. Although the driver's words may have been well-intentioned advice, they offer no comfort to Anthon who is currently experiencing emotional turmoil, and instead make him feel more isolated and helpless. The atmosphere inside the car becomes more oppressive, and Anthon can only lean against the window, gazing at the blurry night scene outside, filled with endless helplessness and exhaustion.
Anthon leans against the car window, his gaze unfocused as he stares at the flowing vehicles outside. The car lights intersect on the night street, streaking across his vision like shooting stars, while his thoughts sink into deep confusion. Tonight, Anthon's mood is shrouded in heavy fog, making it difficult to see clearly. Although he tried to maintain composure on the surface when speaking to the driver, his voice trembled, reflecting the turmoil in his heart.
Anthon's state of mind is like being trapped in a whirlpool, the inexpressible feelings between him and Haohao, as well as the pain of being misunderstood, make him feel unusually frustrated and lonely. He continues to explain to himself, as if in this way he can sort out his emotions: "Yes, Haohao and I are just friends... but why does my heart beat so violently at his words? Why do I care about other people's opinions?
This internal dialogue continues to deepen, with each heartbeat feeling like a heavy hammer striking his heart, strong and rhythmic. The sounds of traffic, the echo of elevator music, and the driver's unintentional words all become catalysts that touch his emotions. His mouth involuntarily tightens, this is his way of trying to control his emotions.
"Big brother, please, really, turn off the music," Anthon's voice was low, with a hint of pleading. When the music finally stopped, the cabin fell into a silence, a tranquility that brought him a brief sense of relief, but the storm in his heart was far from settled. He knew that tonight, no matter how far the car traveled, this inner journey had only just begun.
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