If the audience had chosen the option: [Let her be free! I want her to be happy. Let her go and let yourself go, too.]
Then, in the next shot, Luke holds the pen and writes forcefully: "No. You should go see him tomorrow. You need him."
"I won't go! He's not you!" Anne refused.
"Please remember, to you, there is no difference between him and me," Luke answered earnestly. "Your experience with him will be exactly the same as your experience with me. All the happiness I can bring you, he can bring you, too. Therefore, he is me!"
"..." This time, it was Anne's turn to be silent.
So Luke continued to write: "We're people from different timelines. Maybe for one moment we connected, but we're destined never to truly touch each other. We can't really be together. Go ahead and meet him tomorrow without any worry."
"What about you, then?"
"Don't worry. The 1999 version of you doesn't know me yet. But when 2001 comes, she'll go through all of this, and then, at the urging of the me from two years ago, she'll come to meet me. Having her with me is the same as having you with me. I'll be happy, too," Luke replied.
That's right. We aren't from the same time, but we have this way of embracing each other.
Even if it's not the best solution, if you don't overthink it, isn't the person right in front of you just the same?
Anne was silent for a long time. Only after a while did Luke finally retrieve her reply from the mailbox.
"Let's say goodbye here. I wish you happiness," Anne wrote.
"Goodbye, my untouchable lover. I wish you happiness, too," Luke wrote back.
The next shot shows Luke standing alone by the mailbox, quietly and with a look of deep sadness. He knew that this mailbox wouldn't receive any more letters. Anne had already met his future self and wouldn't be contacting him anymore.
In the days that followed, Luke moved out of the little seaside house. He found a new place in the city, dedicating his time to work and studying to keep himself busy. Time flew, and soon it was December 15th, two years later.
On this day, he returned to the plum blossom-filled forest path. At the end of the path, he saw Anne's tall, stunning figure. She was just as Luke had imagined: elegant and beautiful, the kind of person you take one look at and she's etched deep in your heart.
Luke nervously walked forward. To him, she was the most familiar stranger he had ever met for the first time.
"It feels like we just met again! I've missed you," Luke said with a smile, holding out his hand for a shake.
"No, it's been two years since we last met. I'm so happy to be reunited with you," Anne shook her head, stepped closer, and gave him a gentle hug.
Luke was momentarily stunned, then hugged Anne back.
At that moment, subtitles appeared on the screen:
Goodbye, I wish you happiness.
Goodbye, my untouchable lover.
Taylor Swift, curious and anticipating, clicked on the video.
The Untouchable Lover?
The title of Luke's new short film had a subtle, sorrowful feel to it.
As an avid viewer, she was immediately intrigued when the story started. In A Diary from the Past, the male lead, Luke, was in the future, and the female lead, Anne, was in the past. The Untouchable Lover had flipped the script—the male lead was in the past, and the female lead was in the future.
The same two faces, telling a completely new story with new identities and switched places, was genuinely interesting for a long-time fan. This was clearly a deliberate, well-thought-out design, and Anne appreciated it instantly.
As the plot unfolded, Taylor watched the two gradually resolve misunderstandings through their correspondence, slowly building trust. The warmth of their connection made her smile, though she couldn't help but internally quip: If the male lead wasn't Luke, I'd give this story a perfect score.
The next scene showed Luke, finally resolving his emotional block at Anne's urging, arriving at his father's hospital bedside. His father was now gravely ill, hooked up to tubes, and unconscious.
The father, suffering in his coma, was twitching painfully. Luke instinctively reached out to touch his father's face, but his hand stopped halfway.
"Son... I'm so... sorry..."
His father's sleep talking startled Luke. He looked up, realizing his father hadn't woken up but was mumbling repeatedly in his dream.
In that moment, a flood of long-buried memories surged into his mind.
The year he was learning to walk, his father smiling and bending over behind him, a faded old photo of which was tacked to the wall back home...
The year his mother left, his father shouldering the burden of the family alone, taking care of young him after work, so tired he couldn't straighten his back...
The year he was a hot-headed teen, fiercely arguing with his father, and his father raising his hand and harshly slapping his face...
The year his middle-aged father stubbornly pushed away his outstretched hand, telling him to get lost and never come back...
...
All the love and hate, the sweet and the bitter, gathered into a torrent of memories that crashed hard against Luke's heart.
Everything in the past didn't matter anymore.
This old, frail man in front of him was the person who gave him life, the family member who raised him. He had hurt Luke, but he had also given him the most selfless love. Even at this moment, Luke hadn't completely forgiven his father for what he'd done years ago.
But right now, none of that mattered...
Our tangled fates are about to say goodbye.
Luke reached out, tightly gripping and encompassing his father's withered hand, just as his father had held his hand when he was a child. His expression seemed extremely calm, but the constant flicker in his eyes betrayed the turmoil raging inside him.
"Goodbye, Dad," he said earnestly.
Hearing those words, the old man's pained face seemed to find comfort, and he peacefully slipped into sleep. Luke sat by the bed, holding his father's hand, quietly accompanying him to sleep.
The screen then showed a flash of his father sitting by his bed, accompanying him to sleep when he was a child. The two images overlaid each other, completing a full circle.
Watching this scene, Taylor couldn't stop herself from grabbing a tissue to wipe away the tears in the corner of her eyes. "It was such a simple farewell scene, so why am I crying?"
"Since when did Luke get such good acting skills? Just a few simple lines felt like they went straight to my heart."
Taylor suddenly realized that compared to the recent A Diary from the Past, Luke's acting and line delivery in this short film had visibly improved by several levels. He stood his ground even when compared to some of the most famous veteran actors.
How could he improve so quickly?
Seriously? Is there really such a thing as a genius in this world?