Chapter 1 — Group Chat Without You

Having loved Tran Du for four years, I thought I was already family in his circle of friends. Until that day, when he went to shower without his phone, the screen lit up with a group message. The group name is: "Happy life without To Niem". Eight people. Tran Du, his sister, his two cronies, my roommate, my best friend, and even my younger brother. I stood rooted to the spot, looking at the messages that kept jumping up and down. His sister texted: *"Let's go to the barbeque this Saturday, won't that girl come? Last time we had her, no one dared to show off."* My best friend replied: *"Don't worry, I told him I had to work overtime that day, he won't suspect anything."* My brother sent a smiley emoji. Tran Du concluded: *"Okay, old place, let me book a table."* I swiped the screen to review the chat history. This group has been established for two years and three months. Over seven hundred messages. Each of these joys is premised on marginalizing me. On my birthday last year, the group talked about dividing into teams to play a detective role-playing game on the weekend. At that time, I asked Tran Du why no one paid attention to me on my birthday. He said, "Everyone is busy these days." It turned out to be busy having fun. Busy enjoying the fun without me. When the phone screen went dark, the sound of water in the bathroom also stopped. Tran Du walked out wearing a towel. Seeing me standing in the living room, he casually asked: "What are you looking at?" I replied: "Nothing, just watching a joke." He said "Ah" and reached out to take the phone back. I turned back into the bedroom and started packing my suitcase. 01 The sound of the suitcase being zipped rang out very clearly. Bedroom door does not close. The TV in the living room is still on. Tran Du called from outside: "There is pre-peeled watermelon in the refrigerator, do you want to eat it?" I didn't reply. He called again: "To Niem?"

“Don't eat.”

Silence for a few seconds. He walked to the bedroom door, leaned against the door frame and glanced inside.

"What are you doing packing? Are you going on a business trip tomorrow?"

“Yes, the company just made an unexpected announcement.”

He didn't ask anything more and turned back to the living room. I heard him open his phone, probably reading messages in that group. Happy messages without me. In the suitcase, I stuffed three changes of clothes, a skincare set, a charger, and a citizen identification card. Thinking for a moment, I took the necklace he gave me out of the bedside drawer and put it back in the old box. Do not bring other people's belongings. Just as I finished zipping my suitcase, my phone vibrated. My best friend Chu Ham texted: *"Niem Niem, I have to work overtime this Saturday, I can't go around town with you, let's do it another day."* At the end of the sentence, there was also an apology emoji. I stared at that line for a long time. When typing these lines, is he also in that group matching the script with them? I texted back a word *”Ok”*. A clean, neat word. The next morning, I dragged my suitcase out the door early. Tran Du hasn't woken up yet, I didn't call him. When I went downstairs to call a car, the phone rang. It's my younger brother, To Trach.

“Sister, mom told me to call you home for dinner this weekend, will you come home?”

"I'm not coming back, I'm on a business trip."

“Going to work again, is the company exploiting you?”

His voice was light, just like usual. But all I have in my mind right now are the laughing emojis he sent in the group last night.

“To Trach.”

“Huh?”

“…Nothing.”

I hung up the phone and got into a taxi. The driver asked where to go, I read the name of a hotel. There's no business trip, I just temporarily don't want to go back to that house anymore. The hotel is not far from the company, I rented a room for a week. After putting my things away, I sat on the edge of the bed and opened Tran Du's circle of friends. The most recent post was three days ago — a photo of him with a few people at a barbecue restaurant, smiling widely. In the photo there is his sister - Tran Ngu, two close friends Phuong Hoai and Ha Nam, Chu Ham, and To Trach. Only without me. I remember that day. That day I asked him what he was doing that night, and he said he had to work overtime. I even texted back "Don't be too tired", he replied "Yes". It turns out that "Yes" means — *I'm gathering behind you with everyone, don't bother me.* I put the phone face down on the bed, lying on my back. Feeling tired like a tide, I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. A moment later, Tran Du called.

"Are you there yet? What city are you in?"

“It's here.”

“Pay attention to safety, don't go wandering around at night.”

“I know.”

"Then hang up, I'm also busy today."

What are you busy with? Busy planning the next activity without me in the group?

“Yes.”

The phone is disconnected. I stayed at the hotel for three days, and no one discovered that I wasn't on business. On Wednesday, Chu Ham invited me out for coffee. He said he was done working overtime and wanted to meet up and chat. I agree. Sitting in a coffee shop, he used a spoon to stir a cup of latte, smiling and asking: "Are you back from a business trip? Are you tired?"

“Normal.”

"Did Tran Du call you? That guy is as dry as a tile. If you're not at home, he's probably too lazy to cook."

I looked straight into its eyes, wanting to see if there was any guilt in it. Do not have. It happened so naturally, it was as if nothing had really happened.

“Chu Ham, what time do you work overtime until Saturday?”

He blinked once: "Huh? It's after nine o'clock at night, I'm dead tired."

“It's been hard for you.”

“That's right.” He sighed, "Next time I will definitely go out with you to make up for it."

I bowed my head and took a sip of coffee, it was very bitter. But this cup of sugar-free Americano is still easier to swallow than the words he just said. On the way back to the hotel, I received a text message from Tran Du: *"Are you coming home tomorrow? The water pipes at home are a bit leaky, I'll see if I can call a technician to fix them."* Four years ago. When he needed me, I was his roommate, his nanny, and his repairman. When I'm not needed, I'm the name left out of that group's name. I texted back: *"Call the building management."* He replied immediately: *"The management is doing very slowly, please call them to urge them."* I stared at the screen, suddenly feeling ridiculous. Has this person ever thought about why I'm not at home? Or, he just didn't care at all. *"Call yourself."* A long time later, he texted back: *"That's fine."* There wasn't even a question mark. 02 On Thursday, I checked out of the hotel and returned to that house. Not because of forgiveness, but because I need to take more things away. When I pushed the door open and walked in, Tran Du was sitting on the sofa playing games, raised his head and looked at me.

"Are you back? Why didn't you tell me an hour in advance to let me out?" pick up."

“No need, I can call a car home myself.”

He said "Ah", his eyes glued to the screen again. In the headset came Phuong Hoai's voice, very loud: "Mr. Du, don't lose concentration, this game will increase your rank." I dragged my suitcase into the bedroom and started stuffing things into my bag. Passport, diploma, contract, savings book. The things that truly belong to me are actually very few. In the middle of stuffing, the phone rang. It's Tran Du's sister - Ms. Tran Ngu called.