She looked at Alessia, noticing how clear and gentle her gaze was–full of quiet confidence. It was nothing like her own, always darting around, avoiding eye contact, too timid to even look someone in the eye.

“The convenience store’s just by the conference room. Want to walk together?” Alessia asked, her tone casual and light, as if it were just an afterthought.

Joyce nodded and followed Alessia out of the restroom. People passed them in the hallway, talking and laughing in small groups, their cheerful chatter making the silence between Joyce and Alessia feel all the more awkward.

Joyce kept her head down, unconsciously twisting the hem of her sleeve, lost in her own thoughts.

“How much did your outfit cost, Lessie?” Joyce finally managed,

summoning her courage.

Alessia glanced at her before looking away, but Joyce didn’t notice–her gaze was fixed on the floor.

“About thirty thousand,” Alessia replied without hesitation.

“My family could work a lifetime and never earn that much,” Joyce said, forcing a laugh.

“Plenty of people will never make that kind of money. Why measure everything by price?” Alessia’s tone was matter–of–fact.

have different ideas about money. What counts as a luxury depends on who you ask. If you don’t care about brands, a dress could be twenty bucks, two hundred, or two thousand–it doesn’t really matter. But once you care, you start to

flinched, struck by how accurately Alessia had voiced her private thoughts. She hunched her shoulders,

1/3

09:06

Chapter 423

where she was going–until Alessia suddenly grabbed

nearly walked straight into a

round and round, but you never really get an answer. All it does is drain you from

whisper. “You have a loving family, a gorgeous boyfriend, you’re beautiful and smart–the world seems to revolve around you. Me, I’m just here as background noise, the sidekick to set off the main characters like you

you see yourself, then that’s where your story

tracks, surprised by the bluntness.

are like that, aren’t they? We compare, we get jealous–I don’t want to feel this way,”

and turned to face her. Her eyes were calm and

real question is: what are you going to

hands, fidgeting, unable to meet Alessia’s gaze. That fierce, honest look was too

and do your best. Clothes are just decoration. It’s your

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