With a self-deprecating laugh, I tossed the bottle of wine from her birth year into the trash can.
I had been hiding out at home for a month.
The only thing I used to do was scroll through Twitter and news feeds, searching for any dirt on Kate. Now, though, I couldn't even bring myself to turn on my phone.
As soon as I powered it up, it was flooded with insults and slander.
Some people had even sent me wreaths and memorial photos.
The paparazzi had been parked outside for a month, hoping to catch this so-called agent in a scandalous affair with a superstar.
But they were disappointed. Kate hadn't shown up even once.
When Rebecca Moore came knocking, I was still lounging at home, doing nothing.
Rebecca, my sister, was a free spirit—wild and adventurous.
She looked at me with disdain. "I thought after leaving the Moore Group for ten years to chase your dreams, you'd be doing better. Didn't expect you'd be in such a mess."
I could only manage a wry smile. Ten years had been my own doing.
Rebecca's arrival also signaled the countdown to my return to the Moore family. But before that, there was one thing I wanted to do.
Perhaps it was the intense repression, but right now, what I craved most was a complete release.
I raised an eyebrow at Rebecca. "Do you still have that Beast of yours?"
Rebecca's interest was immediately piqued. "You're thinking of racing?"
She came over and patted my shoulder with a curious grin. "Did you know Vincent's racing this time too? I'll make sure you're signed up—no backing out now."
Rebecca joked that the Moore family had never produced a romantic fool, and having me was quite enough.
I thought I wasn't a romantic fool, just stubborn.
The Oray Mountain Motocross was an event Kate and I had planned together, with her as a special guest.
As I stood on the track, that familiar sense of freedom washed over me again.
I finally managed to suppress the confusion and fear gnawing at me. I couldn't help but smile, thinking, "If Dad knew I was too scared of online abuse to even turn on my phone, he'd probably laugh at me for life."
I turned on my phone, and a barrage of messages appeared. I skimmed through them quickly—mostly hateful rants from Kate's fans and some gloating from peers.
They all thought I'd hit rock bottom.
At the very end, there were 99 missed calls from Kate.
I thought, "Maybe she cares me after all."