Chapter 18 — Late Table Lady

Quynh Nhu posted an apology video on a Friday night. In the video, she sat in front of the library wall, saying that the post about the project made many people perceive An as the dominant one, while the real problem was the way the group publicized its resources. She did not delete the old post, just pinned the correction right below.

Huy finished watching and said: "She's brave."

Mai replied: "Because she knows she's losing views."

“Courage is still courage, even with algorithms.”

A message to thank Nhu. Nhu replied: "Don't thank me. I can borrow your Chemistry notebook tomorrow."

The next morning, some students came to the backyard and said they wanted to participate. They brought books, plastic bottles and two potted plants. A 10th grader apologized for making a harsh comment in the past. An said he didn't need to apologize personally if he deleted the comment and wouldn't repeat it.

“I thought you would be angry,” he said.

"I used to be angry. But being angry is not the only thing I can do."

Khang heard it and nodded slightly. An began to know that he agreed with very small nods.

In the afternoon, Huy discovered a group of students outside the school coming to film scenes in the yard. They are content creators who want to use the story of "a young lady pretending to be poor" to attract viewers. They brought cameras and asked An questions that were intentionally shocking.

“Have you ever washed dishes?”

"Have."

“Do you know how much it costs to rent a room a month?”

An turned to Khang. He stood next to the bookshelf, his expression cold.

“This is the school's space,” An said. “If you want to film, you need to ask permission.”

One person laughed: "We only record in public."

Teacher Hoang appeared and asked them to leave. But a short clip was filmed, in which An said "I don't want to be saved". The video was posted with the title "Rich female student playing poor role exposed".

Views increased rapidly. Comments split in two. One side ridiculed, the other side defended. An saw her name appear on many accounts. She turned off the phone, but the notification still vibrated.

Khang placed a glass of water in front of her. “Stop reading.”

“I have to know what they say.”

"Knowing once is enough to handle it. Reading over and over will not turn words into reality."

An looked at him. “Have you ever had people say something wrong about you?”

"Yes. When the shop lost a car, people said I took it. Then the car was found at another repair lot."

"What do you do?"

“I still fix cars.”

“No explanation?”

"Explain when someone needs to hear it. Don't explain to someone who has decided not to believe."

An knows that sentence is difficult to apply when people spread the word about her. But she doesn't want to turn the backyard into a place to film private scenes. The group agreed to post a notice about filming rights, asking the platform to remove footage containing unauthorized images of students.

Quynh Nhu contacted the school's media club and asked them to make an official video about the project, focusing on the yard, not on An. Mai chooses the photos, Huy writes the caption, Khang films the rain garden repair part. An only appears in the paragraph about the income and expenditure table.

“Do you want to be behind the camera?” Mai asked.

“I think wherever I stand, I will be seen.”

“Then choose where you want to be seen.”

An stood next to the board, talking about small amounts of money. The video has no shocking sentences, just the sound of a paint brush and a flipping book. However, after posting, many people commented that they liked the class's story more than the story about a rich girl.

Huy crossed his arms. “I told you, my talent is making others look normal often."

“You did well,” An said.

“I know.”

In the evening, my father called to ask about the situation. He asked the legal department to send a notice to protect An's image, but she said there was no need to post the company name.

“Are you sure?”

“If you use the company name, people will think you're hiding behind power.”

“I don't want you to suffer alone.”

“You are not alone. I have class.”

Father sighed. “The class is not a lawyer.”

“But the class knows what you did.”

He was silent, then said he would let the school handle it first. “I'm learning how to choose who to stand next to.”

“I think I learned a little.”

In one week, the project's official video was shared more than the shocking clip. One account apologized for getting the title wrong. Not everyone deleted their old words, but the conversation changed. An did not feel completely relieved; She knows the internet has a long memory. But she no longer wants to control people.

One afternoon, Khang asked her if she wanted to keep her turned off phone.

“I don't know.”

“Put it away. During work hours, you don't need to listen to the whole city.”

An gave him the phone to keep. Khang placed it in the end table drawer. She found that action unreasonably intimate.

“Aren't you afraid I'll see the message?”

“I don't know the password.”

“The password is the date the shop was founded.”

Khang looked at her. “You just told me.”

“I believe you're not watching.”

“I'll see if you forget to get it.”

“You are so annoying.”

"I know."

The two of them stood next to the bookshelf, listening to Huy's laughter and Nhu's voice instructing the 10th grade group. An realized that she had begun to give others things that could not be bought: the right to keep the phone, the right to know what she was afraid of, the right to say she was wrong.

At the end of the day, a note was posted on the board: "Thank you Ticketless Backyard for giving me a seat when I didn't want to go home." Do not sign. An read, then folded the paper and put it in the notebook.

Khang asked: “What will you do with it?”

“Hold it.”

“Not posted on the board?”

"Are not. There are words of thanks that are only given to those who receive them.”

Huy heard it and said: "I also have to thank you. Whoever drops a cookie, please don't pick it up again."

Mai threw a paper bag at him. An smiled. The storm hasn't ended yet, but the class has stopped being divided into two. They can do a nice thing together without making anyone the only main character.

An doesn't want to control people. She will continue to do the right thing and request removal when necessary.

Khang said: “Not all fears need to be defeated. There is fear, you just need to know the way forward.”

An looked at him, realizing that this was not a cheap word of encouragement. He truly understands what it means to carry something unpleasant and still live on.

The next day, the group welcomed another class to visit. Huy talked about tube defects, Nhu talked about costs, Mai talked about users. An stood behind the board, not being introduced. She felt lighter and happy that the project could be told without her name.

A week later, the other platform sent an email apologizing and asking to interview An. She refused, saying the project did not need more views. Huy regretted losing the opportunity to appear on television, but Khang said it was a way to save time.

“If a story is told that the person in the story does not have the right to correct, it is not my story,” An said.

Mai nodded, then deleted a draft photo with An's face in the foreground. She chose an angle to shoot the yard, where people could see the activities without knowing who was in the center.

Like organizing a training session on rights image. Some students said that in the past they thought everyone could take photos at school. Teacher Hoang explained that public space does not erase privacy. Khang asked if the yard needed a "no photography" sign.

An suggested having a corner where filming is not allowed, but not banning the entire yard. The group placed a small sign next to the wind chair. Users can flip the sign to the "please don't take pictures" side.

A 10th grade boy tried to flip it, then sat down to read. Huy passed by, saw the sea, turned away. “I learned something new,” he said softly.

An smiled. “You can write in the notebook.”

Huy wrote: "Don't take pictures of people chewing cakes."

Mai deletes the word "cake", keeping the first part.

After the training session, a student suggested placing a camera in the yard to avoid losing books. Khang said cameras can make many people not want to enter. As suggested, use an inventory book and a bright enough light first. An asked users, most choose not to have a camera if the borrowing process is clear.

The team set up a four-week experiment. If the book is missing a lot, they will review it. If not, no installation is required. An wrote "temporary decision" instead of "permanent commitment", because she knew conditions could change.

One day, a book did not return. Borrower record book for class 10A2. Khang did not call the whole class, just sent a reminder. The student returned it two days later, saying he forgot because he had to take care of his younger brother. The group does not penalize, only updates the payment date.

Huy asked what if everyone forgot. An replied: “I designed the system so that people can fix it, not to make people perfect.”

Khang looked at her and said: "Now you really look like a project worker."

An asked: "What was I like before?"

“Like people want things to be clean even when no one is using them.”

An smiled. The yard is not absolutely clean, but there are fingerprints, shoe prints and questions. She liked it better than the rooms that were only used for photography.

Huy looked at the board and wrote another line: "The person being photographed has the right to change their mind." This time Mai did not delete it. An finds that a short sentence can open up a lot of safe space.

Khang put the sign in a moisture-proof box, and An wrote down the date of testing. They know privacy is not a slogan; it is something that has to be done again and again every day.

An left the yard when it was dark, his heart felt lighter. She knows a small sign won't protect everyone, but it gives them the right to say no.