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“Hey, boss, let’s go to a karaoke bar down the street!”

“Sorry, but no, thanks for the offer. I’m too tired for all this partying.”

“You sound like an old man. Come on, duizhang! It will be fun~.”

“Tao, you guys can have all the fun without me, I don’t mind. Besides, tomorrow is another day. Be sure not to be late for work though,”

Tao pouted. “Fine, okay. I’ll sing in your place. See you tomorrow, duizhang.”

Kris waved his employees good night, a stiff smile on his lips as he turned to head for the nearest train station. Earlier that day they had finished a difficult, grueling construction project—the results were satisfying enough for their client that the client decided to throw a little get together dinner party for Kris and his small entourage. There was plenty of good food, colorful mix of roasted Peking duck, Changsha-style stinky tofu, Kung Pao Chicken, stir-fried vegetables, steamed spare ribs with fermented black beans and chili pepper, and some other dishes he did not recognize. Along with the food came tea, cold beverages, Baijiu and lots of beer.

The cold air nipped at his skin, making his eyes tear up in the corners and a stray breeze blew his hair in disarray. A fringe fell over his eye, the tips poking it every time Kris so much blinked, but with a practised ease, he blew it out of his sight.

His cheeks felt flushed and his insides was still hot—after effects of having consumed at least one glass of Baijiu. Usually he wasn’t too susceptible to alcohol, especially not with a full stomach of heavy food. Tonight he was a little tipsy—not that he was having a hard time to walk a straight line though, just that he felt detached from his body, from his thoughts, from everything around him.

His mind was surprisingly clear. White.

While he was standing patiently behind the yellow line, staring at the wall of the adjoined subway station, his mind wandered to a time, perhaps eons ago, when partying and getting drunk at least twice a week were part of his weekly hangouts. Growing up to be an adult had seemed foreign and too far away, something not to worry about until much, much later. Teachers assumed his nightly routine would affect his academics, bring down his credits, but surprisingly he had never failed a subject before. It was only the attitude he had used during those days that put off everyone around him. Snarky, prideful, know-it-all… and some more colorful adjectives used to be synonymous to his name and face.

When had he decided it was time to ditch his wild oats and become a responsible son/student? There was… someone.

An automated voice announced the arrival of an oncoming train, Line 4. Sounds of chugging and rattling metal immediately followed before the train came to a