“Tonight we are young, so we set the world on fire, we can burn brighter than the sun”
It was the good kind of drunk. Watching MTV Asia as a prelude - choosing the Korean stars we’d date, the last one having to drink. Playing charades - Melvin and his ‘fear of God’, Jolynn and her impersonation of Chucky, Priya and I high-fiving each other every time we guessed it right. Everyone putting on Christmas head gear, never mind how silly we looked. Drinking even more, moving on from beer to white wine, and then vodka mixers. My acquaintance with my alter ego Marcus. Going up to Ku De Ta, conversing with hotel guests (Koreans, Japanese, Indians, French). Going down to the hotel bar, making a ruckus, drinking more. Someone threw a peanut in my Brandy Alexander, more beer for Priya, Rum Runner for Melvin and Mai Tai for Jolynn. Jolynn getting too wasted to finish her drink, going trigger-happy instead, with her finger blocking the lens and flash for most of the photos she took. Making a ruckus, wishing Merry Christmas to passersby. Taking a cab down to Marina Square’s 7-11 for ciggies. Walked over to Ritz Carlton where another party was going on, smoking away. Jolynn conveniently taking a can of Coke from the closed bar counter. Went up to the room, eating leftover cake. Debating on whether a too-sweet cake has achieved its purpose, introducing self-created analogies to substantiate. Heavily intoxicated. Walking back to MBS. Climbing onto the reindeer at the Helix Bridge, sustaining cuts on forearms. Going to sleep at 5am, everyone resolute to wake up at 6.30am to catch the sunrise at the Sky Park. Melvin daring Jolynn to finish up the remaining vodka. Everyone sleeping through the alarm clock. Checking out at 11am, laughing at the photos from last night. Lunch at Marina Square, cursing at the “500 plates sold everyday” noodles that tasted nothing expected of XO sauce. Toasting ice lemon teas and chinese tea to Christmas, still. Deciding on a last minute gift exchange shopping, in 15 minutes. Melvin on 6 hours of sleep for the past 48 hours. In the car on the way home, still laughing. Home.
By golly, this is what it means to be alive, to exploit youth, to live unbridled, to throw caution to the wind - to exist in a bell jar.
