A New Contact

Yan freezes in place, clutching his fists tightly as sweat trickles down his neck. He didn’t have time to remove his earphones, the buds sticking out obviously from his ear. He can practically feel his mother’s cold breath descend upon him, her body looming over him like a giant. Of course, that should be impossible. His mother’s true height is not even close to that of the bunk bed, but at night, as Yan’s perception heightens, everything just seems so much larger, more frightening, forcing him to a corner.

Suddenly a pious Christian, he begins to seek the Holy Spirit inside him for help, knocking frantically at the door to the deepest depths of his heart.

Oh god, oh god, oh my fucking god…

And the terrifying woman begins to speak.

‘柏言，唔好掛住睇電話，快啲瞓啦。聽日仲要返教會啊。’ Pak Yin, stop looking at your phone and go to sleep already la. There’s still church tomorrow ah.

Her voice is hushed, weak and raspy, but to Yan, this is a direct critical hit to his gut.

She knows.

The Holy Spirit did not answer his earnest call. So much for going to church every Sunday like a good Christian kid.

His mother slowly exits the room, carefully shutting the door behind her so as not to wake up his brother. It may seem like an act of mercy for the time being, but as Yan has witnessed his brother getting caught so many times, it is not so. His punishment is simply delayed to the morning. There, at first light, he will be exiled to the Stone Age as he hands over his phone to his parents for the day.

RIP, there goes my life for a day.

Not that he has much of a life to begin with.

He shuffles his phone back out from under his pillow. Thankfully, Crystal is still somehow in the call, patiently waiting for him to return.

‘Sorry about that earlier,’ he immediately starts with an apology.

‘Was that your mum?’ Crystal’s voice is a lot softer now, dropping to pretty much his volume level.

‘So you heard everything…’

‘You were pretty quiet, so I turned up the volume,’ she explains. ‘Almost laughed so hard when she told you to sleep.’

‘Thanks for not laughing, I guess.’

‘Did she hear me though?’

‘I don’t think so… Yeah, she probably thought I was just reading manga.’

‘Do you usually read manga at night?’ she asks.

‘It’s the only time where I have a bit of privacy, so yeah.’ Being surrounded by his family or homework, there is only so much quiet time Yan can have.

He still remembers the first night when he picked up manga. He took a solid 10 minutes just to get down from his bed, another two to grab his phone, and one to gradually crawl back up. His legs froze at every creak, his hands sweating so much he was afraid he’d lose his grip every second. When he finally unlocked his phone, hidden snugly in his blanket, he thought he just finished a workout. But despite all those dangerous risks, it felt like heaven for him.

It was how he got into the world of manga. Tokyo Ghost, Marriage of Five Flowers, A Genius’ Love is War, Promised Paradise, Stray God… These are only a few where he spent hours and hours in the dead of night reading, sacrificing his precious sleep for an extra chapter or two. There are even times when he found himself waking up to the phone on his face. His phone had not only stolen his first kiss, but many, many kisses thereafter due to the temptation of manga.

He wonders if Crystal does the same? Maybe not, given her uncle literally owns a bookstore.

‘... Dude, I want your eyes,’ Crystal says.

‘What?’ Yan is taken aback by the weird comment.

‘Imagine not having glasses even after doing that as a hobby.’

‘I’m… just built different, I guess.’

‘Next time we meet, I’m definitely gouging your eyes out.’

‘Uh, please don’t.’ He has no idea how to respond to that rather gory declaration.

‘Anyway, are you gonna sleep now?’

‘Uh, maybe.’ On one hand, he feels the growing comfiness of his bed, practically glueing him down as he is lured into the realm of the unconscious. On the other hand, there is a mysterious force keeping him in this call, refusing to press the red ‘end call’ button, zipping his mouth shut from yawning. He hasn’t had that much fun talking to someone in a while, even if the conversation so far is 90% Crystal speaking her thoughts.

He feels as if he just made a new friend, even when their first proper encounter was anything but friendly. He shakes his head, unwilling to recall that embarrassing memory when they argued so fiercely over a trivial thing. Was definitely fun having the first chance encounter being a full-blown argument.

Except, he realises, didn’t Crystal already know he was at the bookstore that day? She approached him, didn’t she?

‘Maybe I’ll sleep as well, actually… yawn…’ Crystal mumbles for a bit.

‘Oh yeah, I forgot to ask you something,’ he finally takes the initiative.

‘Mhm?’

‘At the bookstore… You knew I was there before you approached me, right?’

For the first time, there is a prolonged pause on Crystal’s side. A rather awkward pause, if he may add.

‘Yeah, what about it?’ she finally answers.

‘... Nothing much really. I was gonna say something more, but I already forgot what to say,’ he lies.

‘Stupid,’ she quickly scoffs, stifling a laugh.

‘Well I’m sorry for forgetting.’ Somehow, even now that he has lost the initiative, he finds himself smiling at her attitude.

‘Yawn… Anyway, I’m gonna head off now. See ya.’

‘Good night.’

‘You’ll still come over to the bookstore next time, right?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Nice! Bye then!’

‘Bye…’

2:19 am. The voice call ends. Yan puts his phone on his desk and collapses onto his pillow as soon as he climbs back onto his bed, finally allowing the bed to absorb him. He’s exhausted. In less than seven hours, he’ll have to be awake again. Reality really does hurt.

As he closes his eyes, the conversation earlier already seems so far away from his mind. A whole hour and more of texting and calling with a school acquaintance doesn’t feel real at all. And with Crystal Chung of all people? For a moment, he wonders if he’s just been imagining things, that he’s actually been asleep this entire time, dreaming of a scenario where they apologised to each other and talked like old friends.

His brain compels him to check. Climbing down the bunk bed again, he carefully turns on his phone and clicks into Whatsup. There, at the top of his list of chats, is an unsaved number: +852 9333 1246.

Crystal’s number.

The messages are all there. He rubs his eyes. They’re still there. He’s not hallucinating. It feels so much like a dream, but it isn’t. In the middle of the night, hiding under his blanket, he talked with a girl for a solid hour. The last time he called someone, it was to inform his mother he’s going to stay after school for a bit longer. That call lasted a grand total of twenty seconds.

He looks at the unsaved number. Eh, might as well save it.

A few quick clicks later, a new name is added to Yan’s rather short list of contacts. Nothing too special, just a change of title for the person who he talked to on Whatsup and voice call for the past hour or so. No longer +852 9333 1246, the records now recognise the person who sent him all those messages as: Crystal.

‘Nice,’ he smiles.

And with a name etched in his phone and brain, a new friend is made.