Jurong West, Singapore – 2:15 A.M. 1/1/21

Clair de Lune, it means moonlight in French. Composed by the likewise French Impressionist composer Achille Claude Debussy somewhere around the 1890s but only got published 15 years later in 1905. It was originally called “Promenade Sentimentale” or sentimental walk. Whether you know what it’s called or not, you sure would recognize the piece when you hear it. A tune that’s been used in countless movies, tv shows, and advertisements; from James Dean to Danny Ocean, and even Bella Swan. The familiar gentle melody played on a grand piano emits this feeling of a silent street, nobody else but yourself with the moon casting down your very own natural spotlight.

It sounds safe, calming, not at all how you’d feel when walking alone at night, drunk. Now, Chaeyoung could’ve crashed at her friend Yeri’s dorm room, it’s nearer than her apartment at the other side of the country, or she could’ve gone with Minghao who also lived nearby and who even owns a car, but no. Chaeyoung insisted that she could get herself home, she’s done it before. The young artists didn’t want to cram herself in the college dorms nor did she want to go to Minghao’s apartment that he shares with their seven other friends. It’s new years and the place would definitely look like a dumpsite. So, they let her go, Yeri made sure that she gets on the right train before riding her own.

Believe it or not, Chaeyoung has high tolerance for alcohol, she’d drink whatever is given to her which is very dangerous come to think of it. Even with her small stature, she could probably outdrink a Russian if she’s in the mood and tonight she probably did set a record for the most alcohol consumption in one sitting. (given that you count the alcohol percentage, not how many bottles she’s finished) Sure, Chaeyoung drinks, she’s the kind that you’d see at almost every party but she’s never drank this much. Not to the point that she starts having deliriums, her vision, the image in front of her distorting. One minute she’s staring at Yeri talking about her of a professor then suddenly it changes to a set of black and white piano keys in the next. It didn`t only happen once, oh no no, it happened a bunch of times through the course of the night.

The crowd of grinding and humping bodies turned into an auditorium filled with neatly dressed, well-behaved audience. The DJ became a conductor frantically waving his arms in front of the stage. The neon strobe lights turned into blinding spotlights shining right at Chaeyoung’s face. The shouts turned into claps, club music to classical, sweat to wood. It would happen and stop as quickly as it began.

Chaeyoung didn’t miss her stop, thank heavens, she managed to drag herself out of the train, down from the platform, and out of the station. Her apartment isn’t far, just a few buildings away, and she lived in a pretty quiet neighborhood. Couples with kids lived here, aunties and uncles who no longer had their children with them reside in the units surrounding hers, and those families with three generations living under one roof. It’s totally safe, nothing too crazy occurs, just the seldom foreigner that somehow made their way into the station.

Bad things or accidents won’t actually happen during Chaeyoung’s short walk, even though she may be stumbling a bit. The faint sound of Debussy helped make the journey more pleasant. Slowly, as if she’s climbing up a mountain, the sound grew louder. More prominent, more evident with each step. The artist followed the sound, she let her feet take her where the music led to. It’s beautiful, it really is. When the tempo started to pick up, the notes started to fly, you could just imagine the pianist’s fingers dancing on top of the keys. In a way, it sounded euphoric. Chaeyoung’s fingers moved on their own, mimicking that of the person playing. She looks up at the sky before heading inside her building and there it is, the moon. Sitting high and shinning bright. She looked bigger than usual, more obvious like she wants you to notice her, stare and witness her beauty, her mystery.

Below the light stood a girl shining as bright as the moon herself. She glimmered in the darkness of the night, her skin as pristine and radiant as porcelain. Chaeyoung couldn’t help but stare, enthralled by this personification of the sun. The scene presented itself as a perfect still to translate into canvas with great delineation. An ominous yet innocent photograph that could mean many things for many people. The raw emotion emitting from it could move even the coldest heart.

Maybe it’s the alcohol talking or Chaeyoung’s just in one of her aha! moments but either way, the artist knew she had to capture this and frame it. If only her hands could stop shaking or if her vision would stop moving, then she’d be able to do the job. Just one good –

CLICK

Clearly, Chaeyoung should have went with a less alarming and more subtle greeting rather than announcing her presence just like that, but keep in mind that her brain’s a bit hazy from all that toxins she’s consumed; sue her. The girl turned to face Chaeyoung with a shrill, clutching her chest for dear life.

Nice job almost giving her a heart attack.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you – I’m not like a creep or anything, really.” Chaeyoung ran her hand around , it felt dry and tight. “You just looked pretty there and I thought it’d be nice to – uhm – paint.”

The girl looked at Chaeyoung curiously with furrowed eyes and pursed lips. “What’s your name?”

The latter turned bug-eyed, relieved but nonetheless surprised that the girl didn’t get mad or told her off. Goodness knows how much she’s been told off before. “Chaeyoung, Son Chaeyoung. I’m an art student that’s why… uhm” she gestured to her phone on the floor that seemingly jumped from her grasp “yours?”

“Kim Dahyun” The girl held out her hand which Chaeyoung gladly took, it’s always nice to make new friends, sober or not. “You might want to get that.” Dahyun pointed to the phone still on the dirty sidewalk. Well at least as dirty as streets can be in Singapore.

“Oh right. Thank you.” Chaeyoung let go of Dahyun’s hand to bend down and pocket her device. “So, in which unit do you live in?”

“K15”

Chaeyoung chuckled, “I’m sorry, there might be some kind of mix up cause that’s where I live” eyeing the girl, Dahyun “and I’m quite certain that I don’t have a roommate.”

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Ajiharacho, Osaka, Japan – 2:38 A.M. 1/1/21

“You’re adorable aren’t you…”

Sana began to stir; she felt soft fabric beneath her body and smelled the floral scent of the lavender detergent that she uses.

“Pretty little kitty…”

That voice again, it’s been bugging her the whole night but instead of distress and urgency, amusement laced the tone. That voice people use when talking to babies