Chapter 18 — Puppets Under the Lights

Nearly two weeks have passed since Minh Long learned about the sale of the factory, and he still hasn't fully returned to the club, only occasionally stopping by for a few short sessions and then leaving early, giving all sorts of excuses. Meanwhile, the club is preparing for its next performance, this time at the district cultural festival, a much bigger opportunity than the previous community show, with the participation of many other schools and art groups in the area.

The pressure to prepare falls heavily on Diem My, who now has to shoulder most of the technical training work that Minh Long should have done alone. She tried to remember and apply what she learned from him, but there were still many shortcomings, especially for new members who had not yet mastered basic techniques.

One afternoon, when the practice session was not going very well - the two new members continuously made mistakes in coordination, causing the group to stop and correct it many times - Diem My, while tired and worried about the increasingly approaching deadline, decided to text Minh Long directly, her tone completely different from the usual gentleness.

"Long, I know you're having personal matters, but the club really needs you right now," the message read. "The district festival is three weeks away, and we're falling far behind where we should be. Can you come back and help us?"

Minh Long read the text message in his room, right after another tense evening at home when his parents announced that the buyer had agreed on the price, only waiting to complete the paperwork within the next month. The feeling of helplessness and pain was welling up in his heart, and Diem My's message, even though it came from legitimate concern for the club, accidentally touched his most painful spot at the worst time.

"I'm having more important family matters," Minh Long typed back, his tone through the text message was stiffer and somewhat harsher than he intended. "I can't always put the club first."

Diem My, not knowing clearly about the seriousness of the "family matter" that Minh Long mentioned, and also under great pressure from the upcoming deadline, responded with undisguised disappointment. "I understand you have personal matters, but you promised to help the club. Now everyone is counting on you, especially the new members. If you withdraw in the middle like this, I'm afraid all our efforts from the beginning of the year until now will go down the drain."

That statement, although Diem My did not mean to be a harsh reprimand, made Minh Long feel cornered, as if his pain was not as important as his responsibility to the club. "So in your opinion, I should leave family matters behind to take care of the club?" he typed again, his anger more evident.

"I didn't say that," Diem My answered immediately, somewhat panicked by his harsh reaction. "I'm just trying to figure out a way to make both things work. Can you share what's going on? Maybe I can help with something."

But Minh Long, in a hurt and tired mood, was no longer calm enough to acknowledge the goodwill behind that proposal. “You can't help it,” he typed, his fingers shaking with pent-up emotion. "This isn't something you can fix like a wrong puppet technique. My grandfather's workshop is about to be sold, okay? Everything that's left of him is about to disappear, and you're still only interested in your show."

That message, even though it was an explanation, was written in such anger that it carried unfair blame for Diem My. On the other side of the screen, Diem My read the message, feeling stunned by both the unexpected news and the heavy blame. She sat silently for a long moment, not knowing how to respond.

"I... I'm sorry, I didn't know about that," she typed back, her tone through the text message becoming equally hurtful. "But I don't think it's fair for you to say I only care about the show. I care about you, that's why I texted to ask. I just don't know how else to approach you, since you've been avoiding all my texts for the past two weeks."

Minh Long looked at that message, part of him knew Diem My was right, knew he was venting his anger on someone who didn't deserve it, but the other part of him, the part that was drowning in pain and helplessness, was still not alert enough to apologize right away. "I need time alone," he just typed again, then turned off the phone, not reading any more messages even though the screen still showed the notification that Diem My was typing something else.

That night, neither of them slept well. Diem My lay on the bed, tears silently falling as she reread the last conversation, feeling hurt for being misunderstood, but at the same time blaming herself for not being sensitive enough to realize that Minh Long was going through something much more serious than she imagined. She wanted to call, want to come to her house to talk directly, but the fear of being rejected again made her hesitate, so she could only hug her pillow and cry alone in the dark.

As for Minh Long, after his anger subsided, he looked back at the message he had just sent and a feeling of regret began to creep into his heart. He knew he was unfair to Diem My, knew she didn't deserve to suffer the anger that he should have reserved for the situation, not for the person who had always been by his side supporting him all the time. But his hurt pride and unresolved pain made him not brave enough to text and apologize right away, leaving only a prolonged silence, a silence that both of them did not expect would become the first crack in the fragile relationship that had just blossomed between them.

The next morning, at school, the two deliberately avoided each other. Minh Long went around another way so he wouldn't have to go through the lake area, and Diem My, even though she still had to go there to practice with the club, didn't text or try to contact him further like before. That awkward atmosphere quickly spread to the group of mutual friends, when Tuan Anh noticed the unusual coldness between the two during recess.

"What's going on between you and Diem My?" Tuan Anh asked directly while sitting at lunch with Minh Long, noticing that his friend kept staring blankly into the distance throughout the meal.

"Nothing," Minh Long replied, but his voice couldn't hide the emptiness and fatigue.

"Don't lie to me," Tuan Anh frowned and put down his chopsticks. "I saw him looking very sad this morning, and you've been like a lost soul all week. What happened?"

Minh Long sighed and finally recounted the conversation via text message the night before. His voice was full of regret as he recounted the harsh words he had said. "I know I was wrong," he admitted, "but I don't know how to fix it. Every time I try to text and apologize, I don't know where to start, afraid that saying anything will make things worse."

Tuan Anh shook his head, his eyes both disappointed and sympathetic for his friend. "Long, I understand you're going through something difficult, but you can't just push everyone away every time you're suffering. Diem My is not your enemy, he's just trying his best to keep the club alive, just like how you tried. He doesn't know about the wood factory, how can he understand what you're enduring if you don't say it?"

Those words made Minh Long silent, lowering his head to look down at the tray of rice in front of him, chaotic thoughts spinning in his head. He knew Tuan Anh was right, knew he had overreacted and was unfair to Diem My, but the feeling of shame for revealing weakness, combined with the unresolved pain about the wood workshop, continued to hold him back, not allowing him to immediately come forward and apologize.

"I'll apologize to him," Minh Long said softly, his voice filled with hesitation, "it's just... I need a little more time to organize my thoughts first."

Tuan Anh nodded, although not completely satisfied with that answer. "I just hope you don't leave it too long, Long. There are things that, if left too long, will be difficult to mend."

That sentence from Tuan Anh, even though it was just a normal warning between two friends, haunted Minh Long all that afternoon, like a vague premonition of what could happen if he continued to let the silence and distance between him and Diem My prolong any longer.

After school in the afternoon, Minh Long stood at the school gate for a long time, his eyes looking in the direction of the lake area where he knew the club was practicing, but he still didn't have the courage to step forward. He saw Diem My's silhouette looming behind the curtain, looking busy instructing the new members, and a feeling of torment mixed with nostalgia welled up in his heart. He wanted to go over, wanted to say sorry, but the fear of being rejected, combined with the burden of the wood workshop still remaining, made him just watch from afar and then quietly turn and leave, telling himself that tomorrow, maybe tomorrow he would be braver enough.