:) Awesome video (:

Intermission (Author's Note)

Just Another Stranger was written on the 21st November and completed a day after. It was inspired by someone's failed relationship. I made some alterations and generated this ideal story...

Just Another Stranger was an agreement between someone and me. We made a bet: The loser would have to write a story. Of course, I wasn't the loser, but why was this story written? Curious? I agreed to write half of the story and someone would continue the other half...

This story was solely written by me, after all. Someone agreed to write his story. Then, we would exchange our stories...

Just Another Stranger was given to someone as a Christmas gift, as well as the bet. Subsequently, I sent this story to another highly esteemed blogger friend. So far, only 2 persons have the complete edition...

Presently, I decided to post a chapter each time for sharing...

Enjoy reading! ...and don't be too harsh about the comments... for it was written before I had begun my high school life.

-Ada

Chapter V

I overslept the following morning. I couldn’t have felt more miserable when I knew that I had missed all the fun and laughter in Youth Group.

Worst of all, it was the last Sunday to submit the consent forms for the coming Mission Trip to Malaysia. All my friends at church had signed up and that trip would be all they were going to talk about for the coming weeks.

I groaned to turned on the radio to full blast. It was terrible enough sitting at home on a rainy Sunday morning, knowing that my friends were having a whole lot of fun at Youth Group.
To top it all off, I still had to study. And I wasn’t exactly looking forward to my exams the next week. I made myself a quick breakfast, popped some peppermint sweets into my mouth and returned to my bedroom to study.

After my lunch, I gave myself a short mental break from simple and compound interest and recurring decimals. Logging to MSN Messenger, Jamie, my church friend, popped up to chat.

This is a short extract from our lengthy conversation:

Jamie: Uh, hey?
Ariel : Yo…
Jamie: U din cum for YG today
Ariel : Yup… I overslept :’(
Jamie: Aw… dun feel too bad. It wasn’t tt gr8 todae
Ariel : Wasn’t gr8? Y?
Jamie: d gal in charge of collecting the consent forms din cum… N the speaker was so boring!
Ariel : heh. Hu was the speaker?
Jamie: AARGH!!! He’s a foreigner, his accent is OMG
Ariel : hehx
Jamie: Oh ya. Btw I 4got to tell ya sth
Ariel : Wat izzit
Jamie: U wun blif dis, man!
Ariel : wat? TELL ME… PLZ PLZ PLZ
Jamie: U noe d drummer hu always practices wif us?
Ariel : danny? Ya, y?
Jamie: he told us tt he lyks u
Ariel : OMG
Jamie: OMG
Ariel : …You gotta b kiddin
Jamie: OMG, no I’m not
Ariel : haizz… haizz…

I was shaken after the conversation with Jamie. It seemed impossible that Danny liked me… Well, I had treated him as a very good friend only!

Sure, he was nice and caring towards me and the others used to tease both of us, but… somehow…

Hopefully, Jamie was joking. I had enough on my overloaded brain with the pending exams, Gerard and my friendship problems. I slumped down in my chair and held my head with my hands.

Glancing at the screen, I had received a series of ‘nudges’ from Jamie and ‘R U ok?”. I typed ‘Yup, dun worry.’. And decided to forget all my crazy crushes.

That was, until the exams were over.

Subway Train Station

Chapter IV

I cried myself to sleep that night, but after that good cry, I felt in tip-top condition for my piano lesson the next morning. Traces and remains of the jealousy and hurt still tore me apart, yet I was more cheerful compared to the bitterness I harboured the previous day.

I gobbled down two slices of bread with raspberry jam for breakfast. Settling down in front of my upright classical piano, I glanced sharply at the clock: Only one more hour. That’s all I had to practice my piano for only the third time in the week.

Uh oh…

I thumbed through my scales, which was mostly perfect except for a mistake or two occasionally. I couldn’t really care less. Arpeggios, Chromatic Scales, Major in thirds… what else?

Yup, scales in contrary motion. Almost forgot that.

I finished all my scales in a record time of seven minutes. Awesome, man! Next!
I groped for the next book: Jazz. That was my favourite book. I just simply loved the rhythm, the feel, the motion and the beat of jazz. And I adored nothing more than the finger-twisting trills and the odd rhythm of jazz that made counting so difficult.

Yet, nothing gave me greater pleasure than mastering a jazzy piece and observing my piano teacher’s satisfied beam.

I nodded to the swing of the jazzy piece I was playing, ‘Show Girl’.

I quickly reached for the next book, and also the one I dreaded to see each week, Every time, I tried to delay the time before my piano teacher flipped the book open. It was Chopin’s

Waltzes.

I grimaced and gritted my teeth. Setting the metronome to eighty crotchets per minute, I whizzed through the entire twelve-paged recital piece. Obviously ignoring the ‘Animato’ on top of the page, I played the waltz as if a funeral were taking place. Deathly and monotonous.
I proceeded to conjure up a silly excuse for not mastering the waltz, before continuing with the final book.

It wasn’t really a book. Just a file filled with scores from the world-class French pianist Richard Clayderman.

I ran through some old favourites like Mariage d’Amour, Nostalgy, Souvenirs d’ Enfance, and Les Fleurs Sauvages.

Next, came the piece I was currently struggling to master: A Comme Amour. I mauled the piece till it was nearly unrecognisable.

Five more minutes. He would arrive anytime now.

I leafed through my theory hurriedly, checking for consecutive fifths or eighths, overlapping, seventh notes…

So absorbed was I that I nearly jumped out of my chair when I heard the familiar knock. I grinned broadly from ear to ear.

“Whoa! What’s that grin for, Ariel? I hope you haven’t hidden rubber cockroaches under my chair!” my piano teacher, a talented young man in his mid-twenties, teased me.

“Nah,” I replied, shrugging. “Not today. But you watch out on April Fools’ next year!”

He chuckled as he slouched over to reply an SMS to his girlfriend. Straightening up again, he smoothed out a crease in his checkered blue NEXT shirt and cleared his throat.

My piano teacher’s face lit up with a smile after I had performed my scales, jazz pieces and Richard Clayderman pieces with near perfection and much passion.

…And there lay the dreaded Chopin Waltz book I had been trying to hide in the most inconspicuous corner. It was a tool of torture in any piano teacher’s hands.

“Ah… Ariel! Let’s have the waltz on Page 98, please. Remember your dynamics!” He sneered slightly.

I tried to focus on the metronome with its deathly toll and executed the waltz most unsuccessfully. Finishing off its awkward ending, I gave my piano teacher a sidelong glance.
He was distraught.

“Man! Ariel, that was absolutely, certainly, positively, undeniably the WORST waltz I have ever heard in my whole life! If Chopin were to hear it, I bet he would jump out of his grave! You are really doing injustice to its composer…”

I grimaced as he threatened to make me practice nothing but waltzes this week and even to compose one. The piano lesson was soon over and I was all too glad to change into trendy clothes and rush off to meet Emma and Isabel at the library.
Emma was already there, waiting for us to arrive.

“Hey, Emma!” I yelled a cheerful greeting as she spun round, smiling.
Suddenly, everything that happened at the bus-stop the previous day came flooding back into my memory. I felt ashamed of myself for hating Emma because of a boy… I stared at my shoelaces… I could not look into Emma’s eyes.

She seemed to read my thoughts.

“Ariel… I don’t blame you for anything that happened yesterday. I guess it was my fault… I didn’t realise you liked Gerard! Anyway, you don’t hafta worry, buddy… I wouldn’t fall for him,” she assured me gently.

“I’m sorry, Emma,” I blurted out, while gazing into her sincere eyes. “I’m really sorry, ok?”

Emma squeezed my shoulder as a gesture that my apology was accepted. Isabel came, shortly afterward. They decided to write a story about the life of a poor violinmaker whose enchanting music led him to enter a fantasy world of princes, princesses, knights and dwarfs.

After the mind-mapping session, we decided to have tea in Pizza Hut and catch a short movie in a nearby cinema. It was evening.

I headed home for dinner, feeling light-headed and happy. The feeling of being forgiven was simply wonderful!

I completed two projects and went to bed at half past midnight. Despite being sleepy, I did not nod off immediately. I lay, staring up at the ceiling, thinking.

Thinking of Emma, of Isabel and of the poor violinmaker in our stories.

~Final Fantasy X~

Chapter III

I could hardly focus on anything. I still could hear his quiet voice and cheerful laughter. Even in my cousin, I could catch a glimpse of his humour and cheekiness. In my dad, I heard his seriousness. In one of illustrations on my textbooks, I thought I saw a flash of his boyish smile.
I sighed and turned back to the array of notes splayed over the study table. And tried to ignore that irritating, whiny voice deep inside me, that is more commonly known as your conscience.

“Ariel, get a life! How could you ever fall so madly in love with a complete stranger? He doesn’t even know your name! You jolly well know that he doesn’t like you; you’ll only get hurt… You know that all too well, don’t you?” it whined shrilly.

All my emotions were conflicting. If there were a colour that represented each emotion, mine would be a jumbled mess with blotches of brown and black and streaks of red, green and orange daubed on the borders.

I groaned and pressed my forehead onto the cool surface of my study table, letting the faint scent of beech wood fill my lungs. I inhaled deeply.

All of a sudden, a firm grip on my shoulder started me. It was Mom.

“You need some sleep badly,” her voice sounded concerned. A cool palm was pressed onto my warm forehead. “You go to bed now. You can’t fall sick, exams are coming!”

Her voice had taken on a worried, motherly tone.

“Yup,” I mumbled sleepily. “I’ll go catch some sleep as soon as I finish this darned project!”

I began gathering the papers, worksheets, notes and my thumb drive randomly and shoved them into my file. I gave my mother a reassuring nod.

“Mom, I’m going to bed soon… I’ll be fine.”

Mom disappeared into the bedroom and I heard the door click firmly shut. The clock’s incessant ticking echoed in the silent living room. It made my head swim…

The loud, jarring ringtone from my handphone broke the peace and quiet. I snatched it almost immediately, not wanting to wake my parents. My dad was worse than the worst tempered grizzly bear if he was awoken in the middle of the night for no good reason.

Then, my heart skipped a beat. For a fleeting moment, I wished it were Gerard who had somehow obtained my number from Emma.

But I glanced at the glowing screen, with a sinking heart, the disappointment overwhelming me. Isabel.

“Hello?” I whispered in such a low voice, that it was almost lower than a purr.

“Hi, Ariel,” Isabel responded, equally softly. “You know what?”

“What?”

“OK, Emma got wind of a project that we’re going to be given tomorrow…”

“Uh huh, what is it?”

“It’s something about a writing competition with really attractive prizes. You know what a fanatic she is about writing.”

“Yup…”

“OK, listen up, I’ve gotta make this quick. My phone doesn’t have free outgoing calls…”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever…”

“Listen to me! This competition, whatever, doesn’t allow individual entries, so we’re gonna work with her. This Saturday, Emma and I are going to the library to do some research for the project. And… can you make it?”

“This Saturday… Uh… Lemme see… I guess so. But only after eleven.”

“Eleven?! Why?”

“Piano lesson,” I scowled darkly.

“Alright then, I’ll tell Emma,” If Isabel was disappointed; her voice betrayed nothing. “Goodnight. Bye.”

“Hey, wait a second, Isabel!” I gasped, but I was greeted only by the monotonous beep after the click of her receiver.

I had wanted to ask Isabel if that was all Emma had mentioned. Did she bring up Gerard’s name? Did she speak to him? And if she did, did he… happen to bring me up?

I let the cool metal of my handphone slip through my clammy fingers into its pouch, with a soft ‘thud’.

Turning slowly, I shuffled back to my bedroom.
*****

There was an incredible amount of homework the following day as it was Friday. We had three projects simultaneously! I was trying to focus on what the teacher was saying, trying to keep the classroom from whirling into a dizzying mixture of psychedelic colours.

I had insisted on going to school that morning, even though I was unwell! All I could hear was Gerard’s promise to meet me that day…

A wave of nausea swept through me. My stomach threatened to turn inside out and tip the breakfast contents onto my white uniform. I fought wave after wave of nausea with weakened strength, but was finally successful in keeping my food where it belonged.

The day passed with feverish delirium. Once or twice, Isabel and Emma noticed my pale lips and clammy fingers, but the answer I gave was the same.

“I’m fine, I’m okay.”

There was much talk among the three of us about the following day’s meeting. We would meet from twelve to three, for the project. From three to four, we would allow ourselves an indulgence in window shopping, snack tasting and other treats to take our overworked minds away from homework and the like.

I was barely myself as the day drew to a conclusion. Having waited at the bus-stop for Gerard for the past fifteen minutes that seemed to melt into eternity, my anxiety was growing by the minute.

Finally, I noticed Gerard’s lanky silhouette in the shadows approaching the bus-stop with three
other guys and… and… a girl.

My grin of anticipation faded as I recognized the familiar chirpy voice, the cropped hair and large, beautiful eyes. It was Emma. Every nerve in my body tingled with jealousy, a feeling so entirely new and raw to me, that I was fighting back stinging tears.

“Yo, Ariel!” Emma waved, as she strode up to me. “Gerard just told me that he’s signing up for the Budding Writers’ Competition too! Coincidence, eh?”

I did not say a word. How could Emma have betrayed me? She was my best friend and didn’t she know that I had a crush on Gerard? Perhaps not… But I felt as if I had liked Gerard all my life!

I glanced past Emma, at Gerard. His gaze met mine, yet the only response I received from him was a quizzical raise of his eyebrows. I was hurt.

Emma stared into my tear-filled eyes.

“Ariel… What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” she asked softly, putting a comforting arm around my shoulder.

I shrugged her arm off.

“I’m not crying!” I blinked rapidly, trying to keep more tears from gushing forth. “The wind… got into my eyes… made them water…” I became vaguely aware that I was speaking incoherently. But it did not matter to me, not anymore.

Emma did not appear to believe my words, but she did not question any further.

Bus 156 literally saved me the embarrassment of having to give any further explanation. I boarded the bus and jostled all the way to the back of the bus where I would be spared the torment of witnessing Gerard’s loving gaze at Emma.

I held back my tears… And choked back my sobs…

As soon as I reached home, I stormed into my bedroom and slammed the door. I found myself shaking with sobs as the warm, salty tears flowed down, thick and fast. This hurt was something I had never known before.

I cried till my tears ran dry, till I had lost my appetite for dinner.

The pain I was feeling was likened to a sharp stab in my heart, wrecking my whole being. I was very, very upset and only one word can be used to summarise my feelings.

Heartbroken.

~Tsuki no curse~

Chapter II

“Hey, Ariel, you gotta hurry up! We’re gonna be late for class again… Just grab your things and go, will ya?” Isabel yelled from the doorway.

Ooops… I forgot to do a self-intro, eh? Okay, hi guys, I’m Ariel and I study in Seinfield High. I’m in Year One, so everything’s pretty new to me. I haven’t exactly settled down into High School life, though. I’ve been here for less than a semester.

“Comin’…!” I shouted back to an impatient Isabel, snatching up my sling bag and a ham sandwich.

Oh yeah… forgot to mention that Isabel is one of my best friends and I live in Singapore. Yup… I guess that’s all I hafta say for a self-introduction, and we shall just speed into my ordinary school life.
*****


We met Emma in the hallway. Emma was a girl of thirteen, but with a wisdom and maturity beyond her years.

She was tall, smart and pretty. She topped the level in nearly every subject. Emma had such a gait that drew many turning heads in almost every corridor.

In fact, you could say, she was an all-rounder. She was in the school’s netball team, debating team and even the Science Club.

Well, lots of guys in our class had fleeting crushes on my best friend since Primary School, Emma, and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to claim that she had already received seven notes from boys, declaring their suppressed liking for her.

And she was awfully modest.
*****


The history lesson was extremely boring; I held back my sixth yawn and blinked quickly to keep myself awake.

The torrential rain poured down in buckets; it was as if the skies had released their dam. Somehow, it seemed to me that the sound of the raindrops spattering down on the sidewalk and the gushing wind that tore through the branches of saplings, reverberated through the still classroom air.

I drew my attention away from the grass that was swaying as if they were bewitched by the wind. A fork-shaped lightning streak divided the ominous grey sky into unequal halves. I clenched my fingers into tight fists to keep them warm as a roll of thunder growled ferociously.

Staring out at the wet and slippery corridor, I saw him. The stranger. I thought, in the back of my mind, I had some vague impression of his shadow lurking near my house.

I nudged Emma sharply. She was making some notes about the Holocaust.

“Look,” I whispered, trying to hide my mounting excitement. “See that guy over there in the corridor? That one with the untied shoelaces? Do you know his name?”

I gazed into Emma’s eyes expectantly, as she craned her neck to glimpse the stranger with his three other friends.

“Him?” Emma smiled dreamily. “Oh, he’s in the Science Club. He’s Gerard… And you think he’s handsome, don’t you?”

I nearly leapt out of my skin.

“N-n-no…” I stammered.

“You have a crush on him,” Emma chuckled, with an assuming and non-chalant shrug. “But it’s all right, lots of girls fancy him too!”

“Well, I don’t have a crush on him!” I whispered fiercely, sending Emma into a giggling fit.

“Stop it, will you?” I went on, in a harsh whisper.

Mr. Chua, the history teacher with flaring nostrils, strode over.

“Ariel and Emma, I observe that both of you have been preoccupied with your own private business. Emma, could you please tell all of us what I have just said?” he snarled.

Emma consulted her handy little notebook and rattled off some facts about Hitler, Jews and gas chambers.

Mr. Chua advanced menacingly toward me. “And you, Ariel? Could you add on to what she has just said?”

My tongue seemed to stick to the roof of my mouth and I got no further than a nervous gulp when Mr. Chua dismissed me as a hopeless failure in history.

“Miss Ariel Tan, you shall meet me in the HOD Room after school. I would like to have a word with you.”

I nodded meekly and was dazed and dumbfounded throughout the rest of the lesson.
*****

It went badly. Mr. Chua, who was known to be a violent-tempered man, gave me a severe dressing down, yelled till his face was the colour of a beetroot and gave me an extra project to do an extensive research on the Holocaust.

I nodded morosely and turned to leave when I realized that Gerard was standing a few meters away, waiting to speak to Mr. Chua.

My look was that of utter shock and horror.

I made a dash for the exit.
*****


I kept up my sprint until I reached the empty bus-stop. The rain had lightened to a drizzles and the air was filled with the smell of fresh, damp soil. Even the wet grass seemed greener. I sighed and hugged my sweater. The sky in the distance was a shade of maroon, foreboding an imminent thunderstorm.

I shook my head and wallowed in self-pity until I heard someone clearing his throat softly. Whirling round sulkily, unhappy that my reflections were interrupted, I caught sight of a familiar figure beside me.

Gerard?

Oh no.

It might have been only my imagination when I observed the corners of his mouth turning upwards. I smiled shyly as he plonked down near me.

“You were getting lectured by Mr. Chua?” he began, almost awkwardly. He was gazing into my eyes, and that, made me feel vulnerable.

The words were caught in my throat. I nodded, as if I were a mute.

“Heh. You’ll get used to it after a year. You’ll survive, like me!” Gerard’s grin dazzled me. He looked so handsome when he smiled, and there I was, sitting so stiffly that I might have been frozen, behaving like an absolute fool.

I could not look into his eyes, and it was at that point of time, that the fact that I had a crush on him dawned on me.

I compelled my dry, chapped lips to curve into a wry smile. All I could think of was Mr. Chua’s large flaring nostrils. It appeared to be hilarious, now that I was recalling his furious expression.

And I did not even realise that the girlish laughter I heard was mine.

Soon, Gerard was laughing too. In no time at all, both of us were chuckling like two runaway patients from the Institute of Mental Health.

The time I spent with Gerard seemed to be ages to me, but in actual fact, it was only five minutes…

My bus skidded to a screeching halt by the bus-stop. I waved a shy goodbye and his words were still ringing in my ears throughout the whole ride home.

“Bye! See you tomorrow! I really had fun today, you know…”v

How can I not love you...

Just Another Stranger--> Chapter I

He was just another stranger. Doing the stuff strangers usually do. And he was certainly not part of my life.

We might have brushed shoulders in a crowd, passed each other along corridors… But both were preoccupied in our own thoughts, our own world revolving around us… And continued on our way again.

Our paths never did cross… Or perhaps, they did, after all… He might have been in my dreams…

Hello, Stranger… I would never have dreamt in my wildest dreams… that our paths would intertwine… at a crossroad in our lives…