Night Without The Boys - Frozen Time

“Should I take this clock away? It hasn’t been very accurate for the past two years.”

“...”

Tick. Tick. Tick.

An analogue clock rhythmically clicked away in the corner of my room. My mom regularly asks me if it’s too loud, but I find it more comfortable than silence. Silence tells me that something is happening—just not around me. It reminds me of the uncertainties as someone who was often left in the cold, dark silence.

The clicking has consistently hypnotized me to sleep in the many nights I spent crying in bed. When I didn’t have any people to rely on, my clock was at least here for me; time was the cradle and ticks were the lullaby.

“Yeah, you can take it away.”

“Finally.”

As my mother left the dim room, I looked at the abundance of pictures laid on the ground before me.

A funny picture of us on top of a mountain.

A scenic shot of four silhouettes in the sunset.

A printed screenshot of our little campfire band.

And many more pictures from the shooting, the carnival, and the grad trip. There was everything ranging from Prius’s poorly taken selfies to Ravi’s professional shots with his DSLR camera.

Now who was this young adult, sitting in a room alone before countless photographs?

Tricked ya—it was me, Corolla.

That’s how I introduce myself nowadays. Coco is a childish name that brings out the childishness inside of me. It’s a part of my personality that I’ve desperately tried to hide for all my adolescence.

At least, until I met the boys again.

In my hands were a spool of twine and a pair of scissors. Unrolling the twine, I measured just enough for three meters. That was the perimeter of my bulletin board.

You could call me a bit of a minimalist since my room was never very decorated. It was a cozy spot with enough space for my bed, a bookshelf, and my desk. The four walls were previously garnished with my window, a closet, the head of my bed, and a clock. The clock looked cramped and awkward after I had the bulletin board installed.

The reason I can only call myself a bit of a minimalist, is because of how non-minimalist my gaming computer was. For those of you who understand the lingo, I was fortunate enough to cop a RTX 3060 upon release. Thankfully, I didn’t need to buy another CPU. It was already high end since I used to do a lot of video editing. Sadly, my dreams of becoming a content creator have long since died.

RGB lighting lined almost everything: the case fans, cooler fans, memory sticks, mouse, keyboard, headset. When turned on, my PC was probably the most colourful thing in the house.

Ring.

Glancing at my phone, I saw a familiar looking caller ID, but couldn’t place a finger on the name.

“Hello, who is this?”

“Hey Coco, it’s Via.”

“Oh! I saw your real name, and I couldn’t recognize who was calling.”

“Haha, I forget my real name too sometimes.”

“So what’s up, Via?”

“I’m buying groceries for my solo trip and wondered if you wanted any snacks.”

“That’s... oddly considerate. I’m good on the snacks though, thanks.”

“Well... I haven’t talked to you in a while so I guess I wanted to check up on you. What’ve you been up to?”

“I’m cleaning up and redecorating my room right now.”

“Ooh, I did a deep clean recently too. I’ve been reading that Marie Kondo cleaning book.”

“What did it say about cleaning?” I asked, despite not having much left to clean.

“It said if things spark joy, keep them. When they stop sparking joy, throw them out.”

“That’s pretty straightforward.”

I looked at the spot where my clock used to be. Was it something that had sparked joy for me? When I was such a chronic downer, it cheered me up because it reminded me that time would always pass. That I could just lie down and sleep.

But now, it was just a reminder of those dreary days. I spent most of my time hanging out with the boys, and the rest of my time anticipating our next trip. Sometimes I even find myself wishing that time would stop.

“Hey Via?”

“Yeah?”

“Does the book have any tips about arranging decorations?”

“Mmm... it actually advocates for as little decorations as possible. The best tip I can give you is to not use any, haha.”

“...”

“Uhh... Marie Kondo did have tips for arranging your clothes in a way that looks nicer.”

“What did she say?”

“If you’re arranging by colours, go from dark to light. If you’re arranging from materials, go from heavy to thin. Or do some combination of the two.”

“Why is that?”

“I think it’s because when you go from left to right, you get this rising feeling. It’s hard to explain, but it looks really nice!”

“Hmm. I’ll try that.”

“Okay, well I’ll keep shopping now.”

“Wait! Do you have unlimited calling?”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Keep your phone on.”

“...Okay.”

Rustling and hubbub came through the speakers as Via presumably shopped for snacks. I felt more relaxed feeling someone else’s presence here. The cloudy skies outside made things feel more lonely than usual.

Punching holes into the corners of each photo, I pulled twine through each of them. In the leftmost end, I decided to use one of the pictures we took in Japan. Everyone was wearing suits and makeup for the dress code, and we were solemnly dressed in black.

Then came the campfire picture, and the sunset picture. I picked photos based on how many dark colours I noticed at first glance.

“Hmm... this ain’t it,” I mumbled.

“Having trouble with your clothes?” Via asked through the phone.

“Clothes...? Oh.” I forgot that I didn’t tell Via. “I’m putting pictures from the trips on the wall.”

“Oh! That’s cool. Did you try arranging them by colour?”

“Yeah, but it feels kind of off...”

“If it’s from our trips, you could try organizing them by elevation.”

“Elevation?”

“Yeah. Like, cave pictures at the bottom and mountain pictures at the top.”

“We’ve never explored a cave before.”

“Not yet.”

I could hear his smug grin through the speakers.

Well, might as well give it a try.

Tediously restringing each photo, I redid the twine, starting with the campfire picture since we were all sitting. Then carnivals, then shooting, then the hotel, then the mountains. I guess our selfie on the airplane would come last?

“How’re the pictures?” Via asked.

“Hmm, something’s still off.”

“Well, good luck with that. I need to drive now, so I’m hanging up.”

“Alright, see you! Stay safe on your trip.”

“Thanks! Bye!”

Click.

Was there another arrangement I could try? Heavy to light? How would that even work?

My eyes gravitated towards the top right corner of the wall. There was a slight circular discolouration from where my clock had been.

Ah. That should’ve been the obvious option.

Once more, I began the soulless repetition of destringing and restringing my pictures—this time much more slowly, and with a bit of soul.

I started with the hiking picture. That was the day when Prius and Via thought Ravi was hitting on me and tried to hype him up. What an awkward start.

Prius and I managed to reach the top first, while the other two stayed behind. We fell asleep on the car ride home, and Via bought us all pizza that day. It ended on a great note.

Then came the camping pictures. Our singing video was great, I wanted to jam again sometime. We could honestly try making a band.

The sunset was amazing too—such a brilliant background was present for our picture. Although the colours we saw that day didn’t appear on camera, the photo still looked like a professional movie poster. I wish I could go back.

After that, we spent a couple weeks playing games. We did hit up the basketball court a few times, but no pictures were taken.

Then acquiring our firearms licenses, and the carnival... was that really over two weeks ago? So much has happened these past couple of months, that even my high school graduation seemed like such an insignificant event. If I were to repeat anything from my adolescence, I would definitely pick this summer.

And... all done.

I gazed upon the string of moments frozen in time; it was just the four of us, forever laughing, our eyes never closing. Moments that would last long after we die, filling the perimeters of my new favourite piece of room décor.

...No. This didn’t seem right.

Taking down the twine one last time, I removed each picture. The bulletin just wasn’t a fair fit. Perhaps I’ll buy some LED’s later. It’ll make the contents pop out more. Our pictures, on the other hand...

I reached into the corner of my closet. From the midst of dust bunnies, unused bags, and old textbooks, I pulled out a large black book. Worn edges of its tightly knit fabric cover revealed bits of peeling cardboard. Once upon a time, this was used for art and sketches. I’ve long since torn the few drawings out, although mom probably recovered them into one of our storage bins.

Schwiff.

The first page was blank, and nearly pristine. Its thick, coarse paper felt sturdy against the tips of my fingers as I brushed them along. Was there a faint yellow tint? I couldn’t tell.

Schwiff. Schwiff. Schwiff.

After ten or so turns, I was satisfied. I could roughly estimate the number of pages there were... not that the exact number mattered.

Taking out the glue, I smiled.

There were so many more blank pages than there were pictures.