11:57 PM. 26/08/1998

A lone boy stood before the birthday cake, watching the candles dance and flicker. It seemed pathetic, the birthday cake, all caved it and creamed at the wrong places. But he couldn’t ask for more. It was all he could afford to make with his bare hands. He had learnt that much and wondered if the cake even tasted good, but his main critics were nowhere to be seen today. At first, he wondered why and waited patiently, like a dog would wait for its owner, but it was three minutes to midnight and he was losing hope. So, deciding to give up and let it be, he clasped his hands together, his mind humming a soft birthday song for him, and made a wish. He couldn’t have a birthday present and he couldn’t have a proper cake, but at least he could have this.

Dear Star, I wish…that my parents will be here with me in the morning.

But they weren’t. The little boy woke up alone again and he could not bring himself to cry, knowing that there was really nothing to cry for, even if his young heart felt a ton heavier and his eyes felt hot with unshed tears. Even then, he felt a small spark of happiness, knowing that the Star had listened.

The little boy didn’t regret making that wish, even when he knew that it was absurd to make the same wish to the wishing star every birthday ever since he was five. He told himself that he wasn’t the only birthday boy out there and maybe the Star was just on vacation, like how he believed his parents to be. In the shelter of his baby blue blanket, the boy held on to that small though and smiled bitterly. It was always the same.

1:01 AM 27/08/1996

The wonders of life had passed, so had fall and winter. Almost miraculously, the boy had aged into a teenager, with maturity beyond his age. The boy felt that it was inappropriate to use such terms as ‘child’ or ‘boy’ on him any longer, and so suited that he would be addressed as a proper young adult, or a ‘young man’. The young man was dressed formally, with a collared, long-sleeved shirt underneath his vest. He was waiting and wanted to be dressed for the best. The dorm was empty, as his drunkard roommate was busy downing soju at the rooftop with his friends. And so, the young man was left alone.

Honestly, he didn’t know who he was waiting for, but he waited for the stranger anyway, hoping that disappointment wouldn’t be his lone companion for the night. A small flame flickered on the lone candle that stood erected on the small cake he had purchased after his school. The young man had not bothered to use all sixteen candles, convinced that the number of candles on the cake did not matter anymore than his age did. He flicked his wrist and glanced at the passed-down watch of his father. It was one already. Were they never going to arrive?

Maybe they were held up by traffic, maybe their flight was delayed. Maybe they really couldn’t make it. But the young man’s bright smile faded away as seconds ticked by. The expectant, joyful smile turned bitter and cold, and finally, as the flames of the candle snuffed itself out, the young man closed his eyes, clasped his hands together, and made a wish.

Star, I wish that the next birthday would be a little better.

He really hoped that the Star would grant this wish. But the hope was small, like the meagre flame of his candle. Somehow, though, he knew that the Star couldn’t go on vacation forever, unlike his parents.