Late 2020.

An unmistakable sterilization odour bursts into my nostrils as I open the door. I place the bunch of tulip flowers on the table. Ironically, I have to choose the least practical present for patients since he can no longer eat or drink.

I visit him at the hospital once every two months. I wish I could see him more often, but every time I look at his pale face, appalling scenes from the accident keep reemerging and rewinding in my head, like a glitch in a video. Then some images loom into view: his parents asking me what happened, his mother wailing after learning that he's in persistent vegetative state (sống thực vật), his thin and bloodless face even after hours of surgery...

Strange as it may seem, his parents didn't resent me, instead their hatred had been placed on the other victim in the accident. Despite the police investigation, his parents held a firm belief that the cause of their misery was none other than that stranger. In fact, they should have blamed me.

The beeping noise from the medical equipment is repeatedly echoing all over the room. He's still lying on the bed, wearing a nasal cannula on the face, motionless, fast asleep like a child.

"I have my hair cut today. Does it look good? Do you like it?"

"Hey... That night... What did you want to tell me? I'd be lying if I said I had no idea about it. Now can you wake up and tell me yourself?"

"I'm going to find a job soon. For my internship. Do you think I can make it?"

There is no answer. It's like punching against a pillow. I think I will go on forever, but before I can call out his name, a suffocated feeling starts to engulf me as if someone is choking my throat. I see myself sobbing, tears dripping down my chin.

"Hey, tell me, do I look ugly now?"

....

Early 2022.

The company is on the 8th floor, inside a fancy office complex in the city center. The building is not far away from the WaterGod café, so I had no trouble finding the way. I constantly check my reflection on the phone in case my hair or my makeup messes up. When the clock on the screen turns to 8:00, I push the door and let myself in. The HR employee greets me warmly, but after taking a look at my face, he seems too surprised that he freezes for a moment. It happens in a fleeting moment, then a second later he chuckles and initiates:

"You look different from the photo in your application."

"I had a haircut last week."

"It looks nice."

"Thank you."

His name is Vũ. He's not in the HR department, he's here to help his sick colleague, according to what he said. We go through several basic interview questions, the one every recruiter will ask you even if they have seen your CV a thousand times: Tell me about yourself? What do you know about our company? Strengths and weaknesses?... I can feel it in my bones that everything is fine, so far so good. Until the very end, he suddenly looks straight at me. His eyes are bright, and there's something in his smile that makes me think he's in a playful mood.

"One more question: Do you believe in destiny?"

This question has nothing to do with the post I'm applying for. Is this a personality test? Then I'd better give him a satisfactory answer, hadn't I?

"As someone who has an internal locus of control, I firmly believe that everything happens for a reason. Instead of waiting for destiny, I choose to work hard to pursue my goals. If you give me a chance to contribute to your company, I will make sure I try my best to..."

He giggles, then interrupts me: "You did a lot of research on the internet before coming here, didn't you? You sound just like the sample answers I read earlier. I'm just asking you because I'm curious. It doesn't affect your result, after all."

I lift my head, eyes wide open to give him a glare.

Is he being honest or is he mocking me?