Am I late?

The backlight of the G-shock flickered at 12:00.

Shit.

Don was supposed to meet the rest at Changi Airport to send Son off to Hanoi, Vietnam.

Ha Quang Son. (Pronounce: Ha-Kuang-Sen)

Don could still remember the first time he met this little guy.

- - - - -

Everyone was shuffling off to the makeshift hall for the first assembly of year 2005, paying no heed to a foreign-looking spotted teen walking along the corridors. Lugging along of what seemed like a whole year's supply of tidbits, he looked quite lost. For some reason or another, Don approached him.


"Err, hey. Are you-"

"Ah, hallo!" The boy spoke out with an unrecognisable accent.

"Ahh.. Hi! Er, looking for something?"

"Ya. I am lookin' for mah class..."

"Ok-"

"Ya. The.. um... three one."

.
..
.


Hm? I'm in three one.

Don turned his head slightly, and raised his arm.

"There! We're right outside the class!"

"Oh, okay! Thank you thank you!"

LoL.

"Hey, we're late for this really boring assembly thing, so... ya. Let's go to the canteen." Don nudged the blur-looking boy.

"Huh, oh! Okay."

"Oh ya, I'm WeiWen. What's your name?"

"My friends call me Shaun."

"Shaun?"

"Ya, Har Kuang Shaun. I'm from Vietnam."

"Hanoi? Phnom Penh?"

"Hanoi."

"Mm, okay. Cool. I'm from... Singapore. Nice to meet you!" Don replied with a cheeky grin.

.
..
...
..
.

And as the others might say, the rest was history.

- - - - -

It has been two years now. Funny how it has passed so quickly. It seemed like only yesterday when Son proved himself to be a mathematical genius, solving the hardest of conundrums with the slightest of ease. People might take into account his being two years older than his peers, but still, that didn't hinder him into attaining his Mensa admission.

Now, he's going back to Hanoi to spend the rest of his well-deserved holiday "hibernating". The joker simply has no other words to describe what he was going to do.

"Eat and sleep, lor. It's winter there, what," Son said matter-of-factly, his Singaporean accent a courtesy of his peers.

It turned out that Don wasn't the late one. He was, in fact, one of the earliest.

"Eh, where are you ar, Son?" Don blubbered into his Nokia 6670.

"Huh? Wa, you sending me off, ah? Thanks thanks!"

"Thanks thanks your si-lang tao, la. That's why I'm supposed to do, what. I asking where you!"

"Orhh, I still on my way. Will be reaching in ten minutes."

"Huh? I thought your flight at three p.m.? No need check in, ah?"

"No, la! My flight at five, la!"

CHEY.

"Okay, okay. I'll see you then."

.
..
.

Everyone met up at about a quarter past three (Aw, Don's imaginary flight to Vietnam has already taken off.). Even Anson and MeiGui. Most went our separate ways to have some lunch, then meet back at the terminal.

After a hearty meal of Mac's, Don was told that Anson and MeiGui were going to go off. They had somewhere to go.

Right, somewhere.

"Haiyoh, Anson and MeiGui, ah!" Faris pursed his lips and pouted.

"Give them a break, la, Faris. Those two lovebirds must have been using this as an excuse to get outta the house."

"Bah, those guys, arh. Too lovey-dovey!"

"Hehe... Yeah." Don smiled.

Those two had quite a tumultuous relationship. It was pretty comforting to see them finally working out their differences and getting together once again.

"So, where to now?" Don asked.

"To budget terminal, lor."

Uhhh, budget terminal?

Woot.

It was quite expected of Budget terminal to have whitewash walls, plain tiles, and dirty seats.

"Haiyur! Why got coffee on this seat, one?"

"BUDGET terminal, ma."

"Why the toilet cannot make it, one?"

"BUDGET terminal, ma!"

"Why-"

"BUDGET terminal, ma!!"

.
..
...
..
.

... Yeah. You get the drift.

Still, the terminal has its redeeming qualities, like one of its corners being painted a myriad of colours. Again, it was Faris's idea that we took a group photo there. It didn't turn out half bad, too. For some reason, it was as if the picture was taken from a casting of "Friends".

"Call for Flight 1xxxxxx to Hanoi, Vietnam." The loudspeakers blared with a familiar monotony.

"Okay, I think I have to go now."

"Aw..."

Hugs and handshakes were exchanged.

"Take care, man."

"Hey, you too."

And there we go, two years of insanity...
...And he'll be back in a month, in National JC.

"Cya, Son!"

Exactly 8 months into Don's sixteenth year alive.

That was the day that Graduation Prom. Night was held Don had to return the blazer to Aunt Cat. He stepped out of Tanjong Pagar's MRT station, outfit in his hand. Again, that familiar warmth swept him off into a hazy, light-footed demeanor.

Don called Jasper up, and the response was that said person was near the meeting spot, and he would be coming. Then they would go rent a blazer for his prom night.

Ah, prom night...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Lemme give Mrs Yeo a call to ask for directions," Don said with a twinkle in his eye.

Dum dee dum...

.
.
.

"Hello, Mrs Yeo? Yes, this is WeiWen here."

"Yes, WeiWen. What is it?"

"I was just wondering..." Don glanced over Lester and Jerico in the taxi, "... What should I wear for prom night tonight, ah?"

It was a AR-OH-EFF-AL moment.

"What, WeiWen? You're telling me, at this time... at 6-"

"6.20pm"

"-at 6.20pm that you haven't picked out an outfit?! You have to reach here by 7! Do you know... Oh never mind. Wear something formal, please."

"Nah, was just joking."

"What the-"

"Nono, hear me out, I really do need your help on this. Where is the specific location of Grand Hyatt?" The driver in question was not familiar with the route he was supposed to take.

"Hai... You ah, WeiWen... It's at Scotts Road."

"Ah, alright. Thanks, Mrs Yeo!"

-click-

"Scotts Road, uncle."

.
.
.


Decked out in his Sunday's best, Don exited the taxi along with Jerico and Lester.

They were presumably late. (ohnoes!)

Fashionably late, I would like to think.

Oh sorry, they were FASHIONABLY late.

.
.
.

"Excuse me, miss. Where's the way to Anderson Sec's prom ballroom?"

"This way, sir."

Oooh, I'm a "sir".

"Where?" Don couldn't resist asking again.

"There, sir," the fair lady reached her hand out into that direction.

Sir. =3

"Ah, thank you."

Don motioned to the other two, which were still standing in the middle of the lobby, seemingly taking in the scenery.

Very nice scenery.

Just then, Don spotted someone familiar. Was it... Wow.

Kellynn. (Author's Notes: I still can't spell her name right. Pardon me, Kel! )

"Hullo, WeiWen!"

"...Heyya!"

"Lookin' good!"

"Huh?..." Don looked at his outfit. It didn't look half bad...

"Hey, thanks!"

.
.
.

I wonder what everyone would look like...

Up the escalator did Don take, his mind wandering. His train of thought was only broken by the friendly chatter emanating from the top floor.

Woot, top floor. Paradisimo!~

Up there, few people was recognisable.

Oh man, am I at the wrong floor, Don glanced down at the ballroom on the previous floor.

No wait... They are who I think they are...

"WeiWen! Yo!"

"Haha, Yong Kiat!"

Yep, correct floor.

"WeiWen! Wa, you're here!" A recognisable voice resonated from the babble.

Don turned around to see Yi Xuan and Pamela. Angel and Yi Xin were there too.

"Huh, WeiWen? Where?" Angel peered around the area.

"In front of you, la!" Someone sounded.

"Oh! Wa! That's WeiWen, ah!"

LoL.

"Yeah, it's me."

"Come, come, let's take pictures."

"Lawl, kay."

.
.
.

It wasn't before long that everyone had to enter the ballroom. Only then did this set in for Don...

Wow, everyone looks good today.

- - -

"Hey, Paris."

Pamela looked like Paris Hilton. It was only later on that people told Don that she actually looked like XiaXue did Don actually thought it was too.

- - -

"Wa, Aaron. Formal sia."

"Wa, WeiWen. Shuddup, la."

=P

Aaron was wearing a bright red tie with a whitish shirt and had a blazer to top it all off. Funky!

Syn Yeow didn't look like a fish out of water, too. He didn't look half bad with his apparel consisting of a charcoal-black shirt and pants.

That guy better get his act up in JC, Don thought he gave Syn Yeow the first and last hug.

He's just misunderstood.

Don'll be rooting for the big guy.

- - -

"Come on, get your seats already," Mrs Yeo rattled above the chatter, her voice muffled by the many "oohs" and "ahhs" of the cohort.

Donovan twaddled over to 4/1's designated table, but not before he gave Wilson a bear hug from the back.

"What the-" Wilson was visibly shaken from the unprecedented action.

"Wa, Wei Wen ah. Knew it was you. Hey, lookin' good!"

"And you too, Wilson. Haha, where's Yong Yuan?" Don asked as Abel approached. Yong Yuan still seemed to be outside.

"Hey Wei Wen. Why are you wearing boots here?!" Abel tapped Don's shoulder, his hand landing on the shoulder pads of the tuxedo.

"Shoes, lah-" Wei Wen revealed his socks beneath the velvety suit.

"Orh, and wow, nice suit. Much better than what the others are wearing here. Some even came in sports shoes!" Abel breathed aloud as a few more friends approached the table of 4/4.

Hm, didn't notice what shoes the rest are wearing... Who actually BOTHERS to look at shoes in this kind of light?

Don smiled weakly at Abel as he left to join Cheng Cheng, Hao Bo and the rest. It would seem that they're already there, and ready for some food.

- - - - -

A frantic Mrs Yeo made sure that everyone was comfortably seated in the expensive cushioned chairs of the Grand Hyatt ballroom in due time.

Many thank-you speeches were made, but it was this speech that actually caught Don's attention:-

"Welcome Andersonians of year 2006!" *cue cheer*
"As you can see, this ballroom is very big!" *cue cheer*
"And also, if you've entered the wrong ballroom, please make your way to the ballroom downstairs!" *cue confusion*
"Yes, I'm talking about the smaller ballroom downstairs, because Anderson has booked the LARGEST ballroom in Grand Hyatt, for tonight!" *cue bigger cheer*

Ah, Mrs Poh.

Don had accumulated much respect for Mrs Poh over the short span of nine months. She was not only a principal, she was a teacher, a guardian, and also a saint. If it wasn't for her, Don's ass would have been grilled medium-rare and served to the media with some baked potato and salad.

"I bet all of you are all quite hungry now right..." Everyone groaned in unison.

"Okay then, let the feast begin!" Mrs Poh boomed into the microphone, a hint of Dumbeldore in her accent.

What, no wave of the wand? No loud voices to command flying gnomes to serve us our dinner?

WHERE'S THE PUMPKIN JUICE?!...

Don mentally saluted Mrs Poh as she made her way down the podium.

- - -

"Okay, let's go get some-" Don turned around, only to see Pamela and Yixuan already gone off.

If only they use that speed in shuttle run...

The gals had first priority to the sumptuous food; Because after all, we had to be gentlemen...

...Or because if there wasn't a guideline like this, the girls would have already been trampled by the guys, and nothing would remain on the buffet tables. We were, after all, Singaporeans by nature.

And so, most guys went like this:-

After three minutes...
"Wa, why the gals so long one..."

Five minutes...
"Sian, they hor liao buay?"

Eight minutes...
"Kao... Hungry laaaaaaaaaa."

Eight and a half minutes...
"Zzz... Don't care, let's go liao."

Nine minutes...
"CHIONG ARHHH!"

- - -

The marble-furnished table was laden with an assortment of delicacies, each and every one of them tantalizing in their silver platters.

Slices of smoked salmon adourned the shiny metals, its grilled pink tempting crimson desires.

Prawn kebabs laid garnishing another tray, its melange of seafood and crisp greens a perfect combination.

Then, right there in an inconspicuous corner of the room, stood a beefy man donning a large chef's hat, with a large serving of meat right in front of his razor-sharp blades.

Yum, hand-sliced beef!...

...I don't take beef.

A minor inconvenience for Don as he laid his plate with various vegetables, choosing from a selection of various vinagrettes.

Thousand Island?

Bleu Cheese?

Thai Chilli was chosen.

Satisfied with his very first course, Don made his way back to the table, only to see Hao Bo and Cheng already having a tryst with their overladen plates.

"Wa, pro. You're eating Bukit Timah, issit?" Don teased.

"Wei, this is Mount Everest, okay?" Cheng replied with a hint of pride.

"Er, then you take only this ah, WeiWen?" Pamela and Yixuan asked, their plates piled with prawn kebabs.

"No la, this is appetizer, tia!" Don patted his growling stomach lightly. He proceeded to crunch on a cabbage leaf as both girls looked at him, amused.

Hors d'oeuvre. (Pronounce: or- doof)

So exotic!

The following two three four plates were laden with smoked salmon, chicken ham, and vegetables respectively.

The last plate was stacked up with what Don likes to call "Seafood Surprise". With a vegetable base, pile anything that resembles seafood on the plate, then smatter on it a generous serving of thick dressing/gravy. That way you can't recognise what sinful food you're gonna put into your mouth. So is that shrimp or fish? Surprise!

- - -

"Hey, WeiWen, let's act 'tao' and super-model-like!" Pamela picked Don up from his seat.

"Uhh..." Don was the non-photogenic type of person, you see?

"Come, la!"

Pamela did look stunning.

"On!"

"Okay! Get ready arh! Okay, now act tao!"

And need one say, did a few heads turn.

*Snap!*

That was probably the best picture Don had ever taken in his sixteen years. And that says ALOT.

- - -

The emcee of the entertainment part wasn't half bad. He hosted a few particularly amusing ones, like word and dancing games.

It all fell down to just the dancing game that everyone talked about. It was no 'Audition.Sea".

.
.
.

"Okay, so this is how it's going to work. I blindfold you people *wait for gasp*, and you dance. Just let loose, and dance.

And one quotes, some danced too much, and some danced too little. Some danced like they had something shoved up their ass, and some danced like they had something coming out of it.

It was especially fun for the "boy with the least hair".

"What's your name?"

"Uhhh..."

"Mm?"

"Nelson."

"Great, Nelson, you shall be the boy with the least hair."

Slowly by slowly, one by one... Everyone was out. Except for Geraldine and the 'boy with the least hair', which was actually played by the emcee.

"Alright, here's the last round of the competition. Please do not remove your blindfolds. Contestant number 1, are you okay?" The emcee handed the mike to the already-jousted competitor who responded with a resounding 'yes'.

The same went on with three others, until he came up to Nelson.

"Are you okay, boy with the least hair?" Emcee looked for Nelson. Nelson wasn't there.

Improvise!

"Ha?" The emcee mimicked into the microphone, much to the laughter of everyone. Geraldine bought it.

"And are you still good, Contestant numberrrrrr five?" Cheers were heard.

"Alright, let's start the last song!"

Fergie-licious boomed from all surroundings, and Geraldine, oblivious to her being alone on stage, performed a mucho-sexy dance. The plethora of moves suited her well.

Now imagine the embarrassment that she felt after this whole event.

Geraldine's the best dancer in school, AND she brought the house down with her.

Is that groovy, or what?

- - -

"Now then, who'll be Mister and Miss Enchanting?"

It was said that the contestants for this 'contest' were chosen by the teaching staff, so not much was known about selection.

The most memorable females were...

Cheerful Apple, from 4/1, the amazing class Don's from, too.
Strong-legged Elaine, from 4/2, the girl whose roundhouse kicks kill.
Talented Carol, from 4/4, whose piano skills... pwn.
Charismatic Mavis, from 4/5, one of the few girls on Earth that plays a mean game of DotA.

*Side-note: Don considers himself lucky. *cough* So stop mocking him, now! >=)*

As for the males,

Slacker Sean, from 4/3, whose gambling skills top the roof.
Witty Divek, from 4/4, the one whose wit is unsurpassable.
Super-Lame Nicholas, from 4/4, the same one that gives all the lame jokes that kills.
Quiet Alvin, from 4/6, when he does speak he says a few gems of his own.
Atheletic Shaun, from 5/1. No one has EVER really beaten him in an arm-wrestling match.

Read down the list. Don senses a pattern here. For some reason or another, these are traits that are highly, highly attractive.

*grins*

To wrap it off,

Apple became Prom. Queen (because 4/1 rules, duh!)
Shaun Ng became Prom. King (he's shuai, can? damn 'manly lo.)

And...

For the many contributions made to Anderson,

Vanessa became Miss Andersonian! (it's because 4/1 produces outstanding people, lah!)
Gan Jia Hao became Mr Andersonian! (one of the best people-person one could ever meet)

- - -

Speeches were next.

Groan.

Donovan was touched by them.

Urgh, and I hate showing my emotions.

"Er, I'm not much of a speaker... But... Thanks for everything, Anderson."

"I'll never forget this place..."

"Anderson Sec. We rock."

"So thanks for the care and concern, the love and warmth, the good times, and the bad times."

Yeah, Don was touched.

- - -

But enough with the boring stuff! The best was yet to come!

"And now I present to you... 19plunge!"

19plunge made an appearance! They are one of the most successful bands Anderson has ever produced.

It's still a mystery how hundreds of students got 'high' on endorphins within a span of minutes.

11:30pm, band starts performing.
11:31pm, prom. king and queen starts dance after much hesitation.
11:32pm, a few more people join them on the dance floor.
11:33pm, dozens are pulled in by the dozens already dancing.
11:34pm, lights go dimmer, almost everyone's out of their seats.
11:35pm, mosh pit forms.

It's like freakin' Geography!

.
.
.

Ananda was spinning around with Nathanael, who was jumped on by Pamela, whose skirt rubbed Don's, who popped with Yi Xuan, who was amused by the antics of Jonathan... the endless list goes on.

Joy was in the air...

...And so was luck.

If only I did! Still, who knows what's to come?

The clock struck twelve as most left the moshpit, tired but happy.

.
.
.

So that's it.

Everything has culminated into this sheer moment of ecstascy.

The four whole years of Anderson Secondary School.

At least it ended on a fabulous note.

- - -

A familiar ringtone from Shaman King spilled into the quiet surroundings.

"Huh? Oh, Jasper, you're already here? Alright, I'm already at..."

Don here.

There has been many queries and confusion about the Prom. Night's theme. So here at Vintage Apples, the author has kindly (ha, self-praise!) put up a few suggestions to aid those in need of a, um, fashion facade.

Don presents a:-

Craftily Re-considered And Patronising guide to school themes

(also referred to as the CRAP guide)



Event: Anderson Secondary School Graduation Ball year 2006.

Theme: Tooty-fruity An Enchanting Moment

Venue: Grand Hyatt Hotel, along Scotts Road

Problem: What the f*ck to wear.

- - - - -

-Part I

Well, here are a few solutions...

1) Wear nothing.
2) Wear something formal.
3) Wear nothing.

It's your choice.
(But the author would beseech males NOT to follow Recommendations #1 and #3.)

.
.
.

If you chose #1 and #3, great. Now move on to Part 3 of this guide.

If you chose #2, thank you. You have some common sense.

- - - - -

-Part II

As for more specifics, the author recommends...

For Males,

-A bright green long-sleeved shirt with hot pink polka-dots.
-Checkered Suspenders.
-Mauve blazer with polka-dotted yellow and a large sewn dragon at the back.

For Females,

-Nothing would be good.
-Again, I persist. Wearing nothing would be breezier.
-Oh alright, just wear a leotard. With polka-dots.

In summary, anything with highly contrasting polka-dots is bound to be eye-catching. People who stare or giggle at you are just jealous.

- - - - -

Part III

So you've now decided what to or what not to wear? Now comes the hard part.

"How do you go along with the theme?"

It's "an enchanting moment". You can go along with f*ck-anything!

.
.
.

For males,

Enter in a newly polished Victorian battle suit. You're the 'knight in shining armour'!

Dress in green and you would have to take a bow with you. You're Robin Hood!

And if you really need to wear blue and/or are... fleshy, call yourself Moby Dick.

If all else fails, call yourself Prince Charming.



For females,

Enter in blue, you're Cinderella. But beware, return home after the stroke of midnight and you'll turn into a pumpkin.

If you wear anything else, carry a wand and call yourself a fairy-godmother.

And if anyone wears pink, console yourself. There'll be two more just like you to form the "three little pigs".
Beware though, there will always be the random guy posing as the "big bad wolf" to huff and puff and blow you away.



For all those going butt-naked, you're the big bad wolf.

.
.
.

Problem solved.
- - - - -

This is Don, signing off.

Tanjong Pagar smelt faintly of fried water chestnut that hectic Friday evening. The train was packed full of commuters, most returning from work. Even the surrounding fauna worked themselves off in a feathery cluster.

Don was on his way that afternoon to Aunt Cat's bridal shop. He was told to go there for a fitting. Aunt Cat would then pick a suit for him to wear during his upcoming prom-night. Don did not have high expectations.

Pale sunlight shone upon the pedestrians as they scuttered about the place, its tamarine warmth somewhat giving them the strength to.

The shop was finally located after minutes of searching. The row of shophouses off the main road seemed all the same to Don.

"It's the one with the big Z sign."

"Okay..."

Diana's Designs...

7-eleven...

Y's Weddings... (No shit.)

...
..
.

A big sign hung over Don, it's metallic brilliance reflecting the sun's rays.

Z.

(Actually there was a longer name, but the author has forgotten. =D)

Aunt Cat was already at the entrance, waiting for him.

"Hey boy, got your stuff ready. Now we need to measure you up."

Trawls upon trawls of wedding dresses and tuxedoes lined the brightly-lit shop. There was no telling how many weddings this shop has helped organise. Two tiny little bears, wearing a wedding tux and gown adorned the front window pane of the setting. A large, french-designed wedding dress was on display next to it. It was, put it simply, astounding.

Wow. And isn't those two bears very familiar?

Goong.

"Boy, what are you doing? Come to the back. Aunt Anna is here, she'll fit you up," Aunt Cat's voice resonated through the shop.

"Orh."

Oh em gee. A tuxedo?

It was a black tuxedo.

"Go on, try it on."

Don entered the fitting room. The material was soft and velvety, while still having a sturdiness like no other. It was very much unlike what Don would expect from a normal blazer. The pants was put on too, so was the lent shirt.

Wow, is that me?

...
..
.

"Come get it from Aunt Anna on Wednesday, alright? We'll do some minor tailoring." Aunt Cat glimpsed out of the window to look at a couple entering the shop. They were going to have a fitting themselves.

Don took a seat and just looked on. The bride was wearing a white sashed top blouse with a combined gown adourning floral decors. And... And...

(Author: There's just nothing to describe it. It was just so damn nice, la.)

The groom was transformed too.


They say that clothes make a man...
...and perhaps it may be true.

Ring, ring.

"Hello?"
"Boy, Mum here. Still at Aunt Cat's shop?"
"Yeah."
"Let's go buy some clothes for your prom."

0.0 ...

.
.
.

She ended up buying her clothes in the end.

Women.

...But it was so, so fun.

And that's why I love my mother. =D

"You are reminded again that handphones, pagers and any other electronic device capable of storing and display visual and verbal information are not allowed. You are warned that if any of these is found in your possession, it will be deemed as a dishonest act."

...Okay.

"You may start."

...Woot.

Flip, flip, flip.

Ooh! Got Di-nitrogen monoxide! N2O! Vroom!

It was that very instant that Tokyo Drift by the Teriyaki Boyz played in Donovan's head. Much to his demise.

I wonder if you know/ How to live in Tok-yo... Okay, I better stop. What am I writing?!

Scratch, scratch. Scribble, scribble.

Ah, much better now.

.
..
... Dum dee dum dee dum...
..
.


And the oxidation state of superoxides are -1/2? Okay... Is there even such a thing?

"Time's up. Please stop writing." The digital clock shone a maroon five.

Pui. Negative half, so be it.

Donovan looked up, then at his Chemistry paper. It was filled up with scribbly handwriting, all of which would soon be travelling to the other side of the world, all to be marked by a total stranger.

As the unknown teacher approached Don's table to collect his paper, Don was brimming with energy. Or rather, the pent-up insanity, suppressed for... months.

Don vibrated about his seat. (Y'know, like those kind of atoms in a heated solid? Only faster.)

He turned around to look at HanHui. The response was a Kallang Wave.

"You are reminded to donate your-"

.
..
... And I think I'm going to take a long nap, and...
..
.

"You may leave."

It's over?

Already?

The moment was surreal- The months upon months of mugging; Or at least the existence of the will to... Is this the summation of secondary school life?

Sigh...

...WHEE!

.
.
.
THE O LEVELS ARE FINALLY OVER!