The chance encounter with Charlie Smith took place more than two months ago, at an alumni gathering. Lucy Lopez, who had been the class representative in high school and remained a WeChat contact, made sure to notify her personally, fearing that the group message might go unnoticed.

At that time, Sangru had just transitioned to a new job and had updated her social media with a post about her new beginnings. Lucy used this as an excuse to suggest a gathering, ostensibly to celebrate her career move. With such an invitation extended, Sangru could hardly refuse.

As with most reunions, the event was a mix of casual chats about life updates, nostalgia-driven banter, and half-hearted jokes, all underlined by a shared history that wasn't quite enough to bridge the years. Dinner transitioned seamlessly into drinks at a nearby bar.

Sangru contemplated sneaking away, but her high school desk-mate, now best friend, Lisa Chen clung to her arm, whining, "If you leave, I’ll be left here awkward and alone." 

Seeing her resolve waver, Lisa leaned closer to whisper, "Charlie Smith hasn’t shown up yet. Aren’t you curious to see him?"

"Charlie Smith?" Sangru was taken aback, her mind sorting through memories to match the name with a face—a tall figure, usually with glasses, but whose features had blurred with time. Yet she recalled seeing someone recently in the elevator who bore a striking resemblance.

"Yep, he's the one putting all this together. He was our class president, remember?" 

"He organized it? Then why isn't he here?"

"Honestly, where did this habit of yours, not checking messages, come from?" Lisa chided, pulling out her phone to scroll through their recently formed group chat. "Look," she said, thrusting the screen towards Sangru.

[Charlie Smith: Sorry, everyone, got held up with work. I’ll treat you to drinks later.]

Sangru glanced at the group name and realized why her notifications had been silent—it was another muted thread. "Oh," she grunted, as a new notification cropped up. She passed the phone back to Lisa, noticing it was Lucy sharing the bar's location while tagging Charlie.

[Charlie Smith: Alright, I’ll head there in ten minutes.]

Charlie was still a bit late, arriving just as Sangru was in the middle of a karaoke performance. His entrance caused enough commotion to derail her singing, leaving her awkwardly standing, microphone in hand. Begrudgingly, she decided to cut the song short.

For a moment, a wave of irritation swept through her. Even if she couldn’t recall his face exactly, the interruption rekindled an old annoyance she distinctly remembered feeling towards Charlie Smith.

That was her first reaction. The second was confirmation—the man in the elevator days earlier had indeed been him! 

They said college or work transformed girls significantly, but seeing Charlie, Sangru mused, the metamorphosis had been his. Once burdened with glasses and a studious demeanor, he had shed them for a sharp suit, carrying a drink with an air of unexpected charm.

As the next song blared, its owner hurriedly turned to Sangru at the karaoke machine, calling, "My bad! Could you hit pause for me?"

"Sure," she replied, complying and then slinking back to sit next to Lisa under the weight of everyone's gaze.

Charlie’s gaze lingered on her until their eyes met and then swiftly flickered away. Addressing the group in a steady voice, he declared, "Apologies for the delay—I'll make up with three shots."

His words incited cheers, and before he could finish a single glass, another was thrust into his hand. Sangru silently dared the alcohol to topple him.

Yet, to her surprise, with every compounding toast, he remained composed. As he drained the second glass, Lucy tried to intervene, shaking her head. Charlie's subtle smile seemed to reassure her, soft but undeniable, before he easily downed the third.

More applause erupted; Sangru half-heartedly joined the clapping. His steady gaze met hers again, stirring in her a restlessness that silenced her hands. When she met his look with a lifted brow, a semblance of challenge, he merely turned away to engage in another conversation.

Lisa watched their silent exchange with growing excitement and leaned over, whispering, "You think Lucy still has a thing for Charlie?"

Her eyes moved between the two standing together. "Probably," she speculated.

"Wait a minute," Sangru turned to her friend, startled. "Still? Was that a thing before?"

Lisa looked at her as if she'd missed something crucial. "It was practically an open secret back in high school! What were you doing to have missed that?"

Sangru couldn’t deny the truth before Lisa continued, "Oh right, you were busy studying."

... 

Fine, study-focused was probably an apt description of her past self; it was during college, majoring in communications, that she'd developed a penchant for intrigue.

Lisa suddenly leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush, "But there's something else you might not know."

"What’s that?"

"Charlie had a thing for you too."

Sangru blinked, taken aback. She glanced over at him once more, struggling to wrap her mind around the revelation. "Really?"

Lisa slapped her knee, incredulous. "You seriously had no idea?"