The Top Player, The Worst Jerk

The fierce battle between black and white stones on the chessboard had reached its climax; as Yale Lincoln placed the final stone, thunderous applause erupted throughout the hall. He defeated the nation's top player, Wade Shawn, becoming the youngest champion in the chess world. Under the spotlight, his sharp features held a subtle aloofness. Reporters swarmed around him, microphones nearly pressed to his lips, among them a woman in an off-white suit who stood out distinctly. Her name was Ruby Jones, a senior reporter for the sports channel and the same person who confessed her feelings to Yale Lincoln backstage at the chess league three years prior, only to be rejected. "Mr. Lincoln, three years ago you said you were not interested in romance; now that you have reached the pinnacle of your career, have your thoughts changed?" Her voice was clear, deliberately amplified with penetrating clarity: "I am still waiting for you." The entire venue fell silent instantly, all eyes fixed on Yale Lincoln. I stood in the back row of the audience, my fingertips tensing slightly. Yale's gaze passed over the crowd and settled on me; the aloofness instantly melted away, replaced by gentle certainty: "I already have someone that I want to protect." He raised his hand and pointed at me; the spotlight followed his gesture and illuminated me. I saw the smile on Ruby Jones's face freeze, a flicker of embarrassment crossing her eyes. After the interview, Yale Lincoln quickly approached me, took my hand, and slipped it into the pocket of his coat: "Wendy Scott, sorry to have kept you waiting." I shook my head, my heart racing at his public admission, unaware of the dark, sharp gaze Ruby Jones cast from nearby. I had expected this confession to make Ruby Jones relent, but the reality was quite the opposite. At Yale Lincoln's Training Hall, competition venues, and even the coffee shops we frequented, Ruby Jones's presence was always noticeable. She never intentionally interrupted; instead, she would watch from a distance or offer him a bottle of water after practice. When refused, she showed no resentment and repeated the gesture the next time. I sat in the resting area of the Training Hall, watching her repeatedly encounter setbacks yet persist each time, feeling as if something was blocking my heart, heavy and suffocating. Yale Lincoln noticed my unease and deliberately avoided Ruby Jones each time, yet her persistence was like an invisible net quietly entangling us. "She is just unwilling to give up; she will come round after some time." Yale Lincoln comforted me, rubbing my hair, but the fatigue in his eyes was unmistakable. I wanted to believe him, yet I couldn't stop my mind from wandering. Ruby Jones's resoluteness when she confessed three years ago, and her current relentless pursuit, both unsettled me without clear reason.