Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change?

Disappointment was inevitable, but Edgar had braced himself for it. Lifting his hand, he offered the bag he was holding to Rebecca. "Could you please give this to Sherilyn?"

"Sure."

Taking the bag, Rebecca noticed it was from Crimson Table, known for its exquisite desserts.

"Thanks," Edgar said with a smile, then turned to leave.

"Take care," Rebecca replied.

Watching Edgar's retreating figure, Rebecca sighed and made her way backstage, placing the bag in front of Sherilyn. "Here, from him. Sweets from Crimson Table, and they're not cheap."

Sherilyn frowned, feeling a heavy weight in her heart.

"Sherilyn?" Rebecca asked, curiosity getting the better of her. "You're avoiding him, aren't you? But he seems quite the gentleman. Don't you like him?"

"He's beyond nice, truly," Sherilyn evaded the question with a sigh. "That's precisely why I need to keep my distance."

"What?"

Rebecca paused, then ventured a guess. "So, he's from a wealthy family?"

Sherilyn nodded.

"That makes sense... I get why you'd choose to stay away. Folks like us shouldn't aim too high."

"Yeah."

There was a moment when Rebecca seemed lost in thought, but she quickly snapped out of it. "Let me grab your coat."

"Thanks."

...

Having waited outside the dance studio for nearly half an hour, Gilbert finally saw people emerging from the staff exit. Among them was Sherilyn, laughing and walking arm in arm with a girl.

He got out of the car. "Sherilyn!"

Stopping in her tracks, Sherilyn looked puzzled. "Is... is there something you need? Did Sylvia send you?"

Gilbert frowned, evidently displeased with the assumption. "Why, can't I seek you out on my own accord?"

Rebecca, recognizing the tension, gestured to the side. "I'll wait over there."

"Alright, thanks," Sherilyn replied, grateful for the escape route.

Turning back to Gilbert, she treaded carefully, aware of his unpredictable temper. "So, what is it you need?" Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

Gilbert pulled a hair tie from his pocket – one he had re-purchased from TeeMall. He tossed it to Sherilyn. "Your hair tie."

Sherilyn reflexively caught it, barely avoiding dropping it. Despite the poor lighting, she instantly recognized it wasn't hers. "This isn't mine."

"I couldn't find your original one," Gilbert admitted, his usual tough demeanor slightly faltering. "Yesterday, you refused to take it back. So I... I bought this one. Take it or leave it."

Before Sherilyn could respond, he asked, almost hesitantly, "Do you like it?"

Sherilyn, though bewildered by his behavior, nodded. "Yeah, it's nice."

Accepting the hair tie, she couldn't help but see it as a simple gesture of goodwill, unaware of its true value or origin. On the other hand, Gilbert appeared almost hopeful for her approval, a stark contrast to his usually tough exterior.