Chapter 1

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I stood, waiting for the traffic lights to turn from red to green. Cars were zooming past busily on the wide roads. People were talking on their handphones loudly. Some students were running about, shouting and screaming silly taunts to one another.

Red meant stop. Amber meant pause. Green meant go.

The three colours of the traffic lights seemed to sum up my life fittingly into three parts.

The red was forcing me to awaken to reality and to stop dreaming. The amber was asking me to relax and put all my negative emotions on hold. The green was simply urging me to move on.

The traffic light finally turned green. However, I did not feel like stepping forward.

I turned to observe the people around me. The most ordinary thing to them was like an impossible dream to me.

They were all able to speak.

I had no voice.

I was a mute.

This fact deeply disturbed me but yet there was no cure or feasible solutions. When I was born, somehow, ridiculously, my voice box was beyond repair. Damaged and unable to function, I was destined to be voiceless. My parents had given up on me and decided to just let me wander on my own, as long as I did not add on any more troubles for them. They would just send me money daily.

Upon the second time when the traffic lights turned to green, I chose to move forward. I sighed. With a black backpack, and my guitar with me, I had been living like a nomad. I really hated being a mute.

From young, I had a keen interest in music. I had used the money my parents provided to attend guitar lessons. I had bought so many discs from so many different genres, from jazz to pop and even from techno to classical. All the beautiful and soothing melodies and voices left huge impacts on me. I wanted so much to be able to sing like those top ballad singers.

With their voices, they were able to sing out a story from the lyrics, full of emotions. With their voices, they were able to heal the invisible emotional wounds hidden within. With their voices, they were able to provide hope and move people.

However, I would never be able to do that. It was beyond the realms of possibilities. Even though I had prayed for days and nights, wished under a shooting star and even attempted to perform some magic to myself, nothing had happened to me.

Strolling aimlessly, I found myself in a seemingly endless dark alley. The entire hubbub around me was gone. Not a single person was present in the alley. Despite the eerie darkness in the alley, I felt that I was heading to somewhere where I truly belonged.

This sudden surge of sense of belonging was bizarre since I never felt that I belonged anywhere. I was always the extra person, with no voice. I had been teased, mocked and bullied. However, I could never voice out my frustrations or anger.

Just when I thought I had finally reached the dead end of the alley, I spotted the dim orange light towards my left.

There was a new route.

“Wow!” I mused.

I stepped towards it and was soon standing in front of a mysterious cafe. There was nothing to be seen through the windows since light beige curtains covered them. There was this dim orange light seeping through the cafe though, incredibly. One thing that I could clearly see was the large signboard of the cafe.

Hajime.

“What kind of name is this?” I wondered once more.

Despite having many doubts about the cafe, I stepped in.

The interior design of the cafe was a hit. The ambience was romantic in a melancholic way. The lights were orange and they shone on the plain white tables and chairs. On the pale orange walls, there were several pieces of artworks. All the artworks were abstract and unique, with no obvious image of an object or a person. The colours used in the artworks were varied and contrasting, like red and black or even red and green, but somehow, the colours were blended perfectly together in twirls and swirls.

The cafe was really tidy and clean as well. There was some light music playing. I figured that the music was the blues. The beige curtains covering the windows added onto the elegance of the cafe, as well as the mysterious feeling. Strangely, I felt really secure and safe in the cafe.

I noticed that there were only a few people in this wonderful cafe. There was a guy writing really furiously and his navy blue cape was so big that I could not see his face and build clearly. Another young lady was shutting her eyes and listening to music, I guessed, since her earphones were visible. She was tapping her fingers against the white table as well. Dressed in a white fur coat, she looked really elegant and pretty. Her rosy cheeks glowed with radiance and her lips were curled into a tiny and almost unnoticeable smile.

Those were the only two customers. Near the counter, there was this pleasant-looking woman who seemed to be in her forties. She had her hair tied neatly into a bun. Her eyes were small but sparkling with wisdom. With a big smile on her face, the wrinkles near her eyes were observable. For her age, she was a beautiful woman, giving the impressions of her being mature, capable and really smart.

There was another young lady who was wearing a pink apron. Her smile was bright and dazzling. Two neat rows of white teeth were revealed confidently. Her eyes were small and appeared like two thin lines, since her smile was really beaming and big. On this young and chubby face, there were rosy lips and cheeks. She was like an angel or a cherub. Long, sleek and black hair fell on her shoulders. There were little curls at the ends of her hair. Elegance, youthfulness and radiance were evident. There was a certain rhythm to how she wiped the white tables. Every movement she made was so graceful and she looked as if she was unbothered by worldly issues, living in her own blissful and dreamy world.

She was breathtaking.

That was my first thought.

My second thought was that I must compose a song based on her, or for her, as long as the song had something to do with her.

“Hi, young man! What would you like to have?” The pleasant-looking woman spoke gently with a demure smile. She handed me a menu which was as exquisite as the cafe.

I nodded my head silently and then pointed to order a cup of ice mocha as well as one chocolate cake.

“Please have a seat.” The woman turned to prepare my orders.

I slumped into one of the cushion seats available, at one corner of the cafe.

Within moments, the young lady came up to serve me my food.

“Here, Sir. Please enjoy your meal.” She greeted warmly with a friendly smile.

I nodded my head. Her brows furrowed.

“Here, Sir. Please enjoy your meal.” She repeated again, grinning this time.

I simply nodded my head again.

“Alright, this is my last time repeating this. You should be more polite. Here, Sir. Please enjoy your meal!” Her voice went slightly louder and higher.

I just nodded my head again.

“Hey, shouldn’t you say thank you?” She prompted quirkily, with a tiny frown, standing with her arms akimbo.

I grabbed the tissue on the table and took out my beloved pen. For a mute, pen and paper were necessities for survival.

“Thank you very much!” I wrote on the tissue.

“Welcome. Why don’t you tell me that directly?” Her frown was gone but her lips were tightly pursed together. No wonder people would always comment that women were temperamental. Her facial expressions kept changing.

“I can’t speak. I am a mute.” I wrote down the two sentences that I hated the most but yet had to use the most.

“Oh!” She let out a gasp. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to be so mean.” Her eyes were mournful and sympathetic. Seriously, I had always hated receiving such looks from people. However, when it was from her, I could only feel my heart fluttering.

I shook my head and wrote on the tissue, “It’s alright.”

She glanced around the cafe once and then sat in the opposite seat, facing me directly.

“Since there are no more customers to serve, I shall sit down and entertain you!” She beamed, like a child who had finally managed to receive what she wanted, after much pleading.

“Will your boss mind?” I asked by writing on the tissue again.

“You mean Mdm Kim. Of course not! She will want me to entertain our guests. Let’s try to speak with proper pen and paper instead. You can eat while I write. Or, do you want to play a game? I will draw and you will write down your guess. Let’s play! I love drawing!” She initiated.

I was allured to her beauty, cheerful personality and dazzling smiles.

That was our first meeting. That was my first time feeling good about being a mute. There was no awkwardness but only joy when we conversed and played the game. That day was the beginning of my short-lived happiness.

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HONG KI'S STORY!

PART 1!

you can get the full picture from the two men's stories.

cheers.

th1rd3ye/crunch