A short story. 

Author’s note: This is a sequel to the story “Only Second Best”. You are encouraged to read that first.

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                 “There, done.” Closing the closet door, I turned around to find Chad lying on his side on his bed, gazing at me. “Gazing” is probably not the correct word; perhaps “scrutinizing” is more appropriate.

 “What is it?” I asked as I watched him just as intently. He seemed surprised at my question and his features soften as he grinned, “Nothing. I think I just realize how homely you are.” He chuckled and adjusted to lie on his back, “We are in a hotel! Why is there a need to unpack all the clothes?”

 I pouted (childish, I know), “I can’t help it. The sight of all those clothes in the luggage just irks me. Why do we have to stay in a hotel any way? Why not at your parents’?” I knew I had said something wrong the moment those words were out of my mouth. Out of nervous habit, I chewed on my lower lip and turned back to open the closet in hope of finding some mundane thing to do. I had asked him that question the first time he told me we were staying in the hotel and he had chose not to answer. After a while, I heard him say, “Jean and Vanessa are here on holiday. My parents have offered them the guest room in our house.”

 Oh.  

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The train door closes.

I flip the page of my book and sneak another peek at the giggling couple across me. The guy had one arm slung across the girl’s shoulder. The girl, in turn, was tugging mercilessly at his hand, trying to engulf his big hand in her small one. He grins down at her, his hand refusing to close in a fist. She looks up at him and jabs him playfully in the ribs. He laughs and bends to rub his nose against hers. 

I bite back a smile and whisper to the one next to me, “How come we don’t do stupid things like that?”

He turns to me, his eyebrow raised. That look he gave me could only be described as “Seriously?!” If not for the sparkle in his eyes, I would have jabbed him too. 

This time, I let the smile spread across my face, “Right, got it; I do enough stupid things for both of us.” He chuckles, closes his book and takes my hand. I sigh and rest my head on his shoulder, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne. I feel his cheek against my forehead and hears him whisper those three words. 

I sneak another peek at the couple across us and lock eyes with the girl. She smiles. So do I.

You know how it all started. Everything was beautiful. La vie en rose, almost. The world was full of hope and simple joys. Just one look AT you made me soar. And when your eyes locked with mine… sigh.

But then, I turned greedy. All the “Hellos”, smiles and laughter - they’re no longer enough. I should be contented? I should stop confusing you? I should stop confusing myself. 

The truth is,
I’m tired of waiting. 
And so tired of wanting.  

It was that shy smile that came a-knocking. 
The way your eyes would crease when your smile broadens.
The way you speak, always so soft-spoken.
And in the rare moments your eyes look straight at mine, I stop breathing.
Sometimes you stand too close and I move away. 
That was instinct. Really. 
If I could, I would move closer till we barely touch.
But I didn’t.
I’ve regretted. 
So I forced the guards down, waiting to throw the door open for you.
But you’ve been hiding. 
Guess I’ve read all the signs wrong. Again.
The walls have returned, higher than ever.
I turn and am now running the other way.
All this while, I look back to see if you are chasing.
But all you do is look at me with questions in those beautiful eyes.
Sigh.
Don’t you, see why? 

A short story.
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               Hey~ Have you ever tried, really reaching out for the other side? I may be climbing on rainbows, but baby here goes…

Her favourite song of all time filled the room. It had been her dad’s favourite song too and she had long decided that one day, this would be her wedding song. Yes, this was an old song but then again, she had always been a sucker for sentimental music. She loves the way her stomach would crease at the nostalgia; this would usually be followed by a subtle yearning for something. She hasn’t quite figured out what that “something” was but it made her feel alive, and that’s the way she likes it.   

She hummed as she swayed in front of the full length mirror. Her pure ivory satin gown made a swishing sound in beat with her movement. Her fingers traced the lace on the mermaid bodice, over her breasts, and slid down to the empire waist where it flared out into a full-blown princess gown that would end just an inch above the floor once she puts on her 3-inches beige heels. There was no train because she wouldn’t want to be tripped upon; this way she would be able to glide into church without having to worry if she was stepping on the gown. Her fingers trailed off her hips and drifted to her face where she tugged a loose fringe behind her ears. No veil for her too because she wanted everyone to see how happy she was. Her skin had always been good so her make-up was kept minimal; her eyes were played up with tons of mascara and fake lashes. Her lipstick was a simple baby pink lip gloss so that the focus would remain on her eyes; just the way she likes it. They had curled her long hair and weaved it into a loose bun, embellishing it with a bunch of fresh white orchids. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 

A slow smile tugged at the sides of her lips and she gave in. It spread across her face, lighting up her eyes as she laughed at her reflection.

This was perfect.  

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Oh mama,
How long more do I have to watch life pass me by?
The best days of my life are gone,
And the saddest part is, 
I don’t remember them at all. 
Why do I have to stay in a place where I’m not growing? 
The best days of my youth are about gone, 
And the career that was to be is not shaping, 
I shouldn’t procrastinate any more.

Some days, 
I want to cut myself,
Binge and purge, 
Slap and hit the walls,
But I don’t. 
Because then, I’ll be what you think I am. 
A disappointment.
Because I have steered off the course you have hoped for me.
I yearn to tattoo meaning on my skin,
Hoping that they will somehow seep into my veins, 
And give me life again. 
But you don’t understand this.

Oh papa,
Why do you still hold on so tight to the string? 
The kite is straining to be free. 
The kite may be weak but it can only get stronger.
Even if the string snaps and the kite gets lost forever, 
Don’t be sad. 
Because the kite has lived. 
It was happy. 
Let it go, papa. 

Let me go.

Contented,
That’s what I am today.
Pretty skies, baby breezes, nostalgic music,
Oh yes I am.
Sitting here on my bed,
I want to write me a poem.
My pen waits,
Nothing.
Too contented.

The morning sun wants to play hide and seek
Throwing us all into unwanted bleak
Cranky and moody, my neck creaks
Look in my mirror, yikes, who’s that freak?
Bed-hair-chic?
Nope, too much of a feat.

A short story.

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                “He likes you,” Carlene teased as she elbowed me.  That got my heart racing and filled with hope. But as I looked at his retreating back, a wave of negativity washed over me. 

Does he really? Somehow, I don’t feel it. At first, I thought I felt something there, between us, but it has been months and we’re still just acquaintances. 

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A short story.
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Her cell phone is dying. It’s time to change a new one. She sighs. 

Laptop, cable, cell phone; she connects them. She watches the bar as it flickers gradually across her screen. Completed in a matter of seconds; she never really had much in her cell phone anyway. She double-clicks the new folder and goes through the downloaded items – music, saved texts, and one photograph.

It was of her, albeit a younger her; just two years ago, but feeling like a lifetime has passed. She had been sitting by the window pane, watching the rain falling down when he shot the photo with her cell phone. Melody Fair, he had called her. 

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A short story.
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                Another boring lunch at the usual food court, she sighed softly and sat down with her food; a simple plate of rice, mixed vegetables and fish. She sighed again and looked at her mobile phone while she waited politely for her colleagues to return to the table. She didn’t notice the man sitting two tables away. 

Her colleagues returned and she looked up with the easy practiced smile. As they settled, she began to eat. Her eyes stared into the distance as her ears half listened to her colleagues’ conversations. Someone said something funny and she blinked. She glanced at the colleague who had cracked the joke and smiled. As her eyes crinkled, something in the background caught her attention. 

Her eyes flickered to refocus. She came eye to eye with a man – Caucasian, short blond hair, purple shirt. He was looking straight at her. 

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A short story.
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               “Aloysius Raphael Tan! Stop pulling Kristen’s hair! You come here and sit down now, do you hear me!” 

I chuckle; there she goes again. That’s my elder sister, Rebecca. She’s a mum. It’s her job to scream like a banshee every now and then. To her credit, she only screams at her offspring, my four-year-old nephew, Aloysius. He’s a darling little angel when he wants to. Most of the time, he’s a monkey. 

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A short story.

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Outside the gates, I stare at the old house in the distance, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I hear the taxi driving away followed by the crunching of the gravel as Chad walks up to me. He stands next to me now, one hand carrying our bags with ease, the other reaching casually for my hand.

“We are here,” he says. I turn to him as he glances down at me, eyes twinkling and I find myself catching my breath. Six months, and he still has that effect on me. I wonder if it will ever stop.

“Come on,” he tugs at my hand as the gates open on their own accord. My legs feel like lead and I stay where I am. Chad takes no more than a couple of steps before he is pulled back. I see the confusion in his eyes as he turns back to me, “What’s wrong?” I bite my lips, suddenly even more nervous than before. He understands. Those beautiful crowfeet appear as he breaks into the gentle smile I love so much.

“Don’t worry, they’ll love you.” 

- - - - - -

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You are the only reason I look forward to weekdays.
The rattling of a key sets my heart into frenzy.
My shoulders tense.
My fingers pause over the keyboard.
My breath holds, waiting.
Waiting to hear if it’s you. Waiting to see if you would perhaps walk in.
Nine out of ten times, it isn’t you.
But my silly body parts haven’t learned their lesson.
We are all still hoping.

I know. I should slap myself.
I made a promise to myself that you shouldn’t matter.
I deserve better.
But I am silly.
Time will make me smarter, I am sure.
Question is, how much more time?
Because this phase is really quite painful.
This rollercoaster ride of emotions? I don’t need it.

Hello,
I just wanted to tell you…
I like you.
A lot.

I like the way you walk into a room and the first thing you do is look for me.
I like the way your eyes crinkle so warmly when you smile at me.
I like the way you put your hand on the small of my back, as if to tell the world that I’m yours.
I like the way you put yourself between traffic and me.
I like the way you look when you concentrate on what I’m saying.
I like the way you offer little touches of affection just when I need them.

Also,
I like the way we can talk about everything and nothing at all.
I like the way we sit on your sofa, each doing our own things but with our feet touching.
I like the way we are anti-social but love each other’s company.
I like the way we can break into giggles like little children and laugh till our tummies ache.
I like the way we always mess up the kitchen when we attempt to have a home-cooked meal.

And not forgetting,
I like the way my friends adore you and sometimes, take your side against mine.
I like the way my family approves of you and always asking if you would like to join our gatherings.

Hello,
I think…
No,
I am sure.

I
Love
You
<3