"I am sorry, I thought you said you were over him...and...and he sounded sincere. So I gave him your new number..." Bei Bei paused right there, as if she feared that I was about to pronounce the death of our friendship when we were ten.
"I don't know what to say." I lowered my head. "Seeing him is already a challenge, but I seemed to be even more baffled just to hear his voice."
"Did he tell you where he is working now?"
"No. I didn't ask and didn't feel like filling in too many info of mine either. There's no point doing that."
BeiBei nodded. While I cautiously sipped my hot chocolate, she silently opened the envelop that I slid across the table to her.
"You are going to be in that show?" Her face lit up.
"Nah, I was just invited. Those are real-time models whose faces you can find in magazines, tabloids and commercials. Big-time faces, not nobody like me."
"You are not nobody. The other day my colleagues recognized you from the ads on the transit." She murmured. "And there's the school brochure with your lovely face printed on."
But That was years ago, and I was, the third or four tier of rookies that the agency scarcely selected for real fashion shows. That was why I chose to be listed as a part-time instead of a serious player in the business. With the training, I knew it could be a waste if I let chances come by. Chances of making real money. Yet I was too young and naive to think that I had the chance to make money via odd jobs like that, especially a part-time. Even some of the dreamers who were engaged and on call full time actually winded up bartending or waitressing all the way through their twenty eighth birthdays or so, with wages from the business that barely covered their own makeup supplies or rents. Let alone the part timers. After five years, I decided to cease doing it and completely quit it, upon graduating from college. Probably because I was tired of waiting, of building up the castles in the air, of the masquerade and of my stupidity of believing in something I could not do. I did, however, retain the relationship with a few known names and faces due to old-time party's sake -- even though I sort of categorized them as fair-weather friends who I'd hook up a drink or two in their private parties occasionally.
Life away from the limelight was peaceful and eventless. No parties. No phone calls. It was usually me and the TV set or the stereo. To save the living expense, I seldom turned on the light and air-conditioning. The first thing to do when I got home was to turn on the television, which was always set on the news channels. I enjoyed watching the news. The intonation of the anchorpersons seemed to be dramatic; their faces and casual, unprofessional comments were never my focus, but their voices. I watched the news in the dark, the broadcasting of private residence breakins, sex crime, gang fight, gunfire, protests, homicides or any other sorts of social disturbing news did not weary me. They reminded me of being vigilant and cautious. Also, other people's misery sometimes made me feel content of what I have got.
At times, I'd recall somewhere in the cabinet, there stood the bottle of red-wine and two Swarovski crystalline glasses that Frederic gave me as a Valentine's gift.
As one that never showed his emotion and that held his composure at all times, I don't think I'd ever forget his response and corresponding facial expression when he found out that I had never been near anything alcoholic.
"Never? You mean, like never ever? Never never?" He was apparently startled.
I shook my head.
"That's a shame!" He did not believe me. "What about those wine-tasting parties you were invited? What about wedding banquets?"
"I tried my best to evade the drinks. I faked drinking it when I had to, by dipping my lips into the liquid but never swallowed any." I shrugged.
He asked me why. I confided with him the story of how my beloved all-time-intoxicated grandfather was killed by a complexion of liver and lung failure.
"But you do know there'll be time that you need to learn to drink and hold up to the drinks you are fed, don't you?" He was talking about the social manner. In asian society and asian culture, sometimes it is considered rude not to respond to the host or the superior's toast.
"Nowadays I trust such occasions are becoming rare and rare. And people always substitute alcohol with tea or other alcohol-free drinks."
He chuckled and slightly shook his head, as if he was mocking me, finding me incredulously naive or foolish.
"So do we need to dress up for the fashion collection?" BeiBei asked.
Yes. I returned to the conversation. I reminded her to remember to keep the invitation which she's going to need for the show. I could tell that she's carried away with the idea of attending a fashion show where she's expecting to see a few celebrities live. For a moment, she had that radiant innocent look like a little girl. For a second, I hated to spoil her thrill and told her the brutal true feeling of mine.
Anybody, anybody can be someone if s/he had enough self-esteem. In a small realm like where we reside in, anybody can be somebody, can be a known. With scrutiny like that, gossips and nosy people surrounding us, any crime, any outrageous deeds, any abnormalcy or any small act can be examined and put under spotlight.
It's a morbid small world in a shell, in a well. That's where we were.