I’m sorry about the way things ended between us. Those last few weeks where we stopped talking to each other. How could I have known that would be our last time together? I regret it every single day. Not putting things aside for once, hoping you would reach out to me first. It’s probably not a surprise that I was in love with you. I was never really good at hiding that. And that I was hurt you found someone else and didn’t tell me about it. I know that was selfish of me, though. I should have been happier for you. I shouldn’t have let it change anything. I shouldhave appreciated our friendship the way I do now. The way you always did, even at times when I didn’t deserve you. But you were always there at the end of the day. Showing up unannounced sometimes. Inviting me to the dance at the last minute. I miss that about you. I’m sad we never got our first dance. But I’m truly grateful for everything else. You’ll always be my best friend. And I’ll never forget you, okay? I hope you don’t forget about me, either.
Love,
Eric
Twenty-One
FEBRUARY
THREE MONTHS LATER
Yellow Mai flowers fill the house. It’s the morning of the newyear. The windows are opened wide, letting in fresh air. I’m standing on the front steps with Mom and Dad. We spent all last night cleaning, sweeping the floors of the house, making sure to take out the trash. Because for the next three days, you are not to throw things away to avoid the risk of tossing out good luck. Lunar New Year is full of traditions. That’s why I brought everyone outside this morning. We weren’t able to do this last year. I wanted to give my family a second chance.
T?t is a celebration of new beginnings. Reentering the house symbolizes a fresh start. The person who enters first is believed to have bearing on the rest of the year. Mom and Dad decided it should be me. Although I’m not the most superstitious, I always respect their traditions. I made sure to cut my hair a few days before. This sheds all the bad energy I’ve been carrying with me. I hope I bring our family some good luck this year.
Mom taps my shoulder. “Condi vônhàtru?cdi r?i ba m?vôsau,” she says.You go in first and we will go after.
I nod. “Okay.”
Sunlight floods the house as we come inside. The dining table is filled with fried spring rolls and bowls of fruit. I helped Mom make everything the night before. She lights some incense and places it at another table. The mantel is filled with photos of people we’ve lost over the years. To show our respect, it is custom to offer them the food first. I walk over and pick up an incense stick. Then I glance at Jasmine’s photo on the wall. I’m still not used to seeing her up there. It’s been almost a year since she passed away. There are still days when the thought of this fills me with sadness. Then I play some of her music, and it feels like she’s there again.
In honor of T?t, I made sure to have all her favorite foods today. I looked up a recipe for pineapple fried rice. I even cut the pineapple in half to make a bowl like the restaurant. I got another letter from Jasmine this morning. I’m saving it to read later tonight. I have a feeling she’s wishing me a happy New Year.
“Happy New Year to you, too,” I whisper.
Sometime later, there is a knock on the door. Dad stands and welcomes Kevin into the living room. According to my mom, the first visitor of the year needs to be important to the family. People are not to come over without an invitation. It was my idea to ask Kevin to visit the house today. He’s been over a few times in the last couple of months. It feels nice having him around again as another member of the family. The two of us have really bonded lately. He helped me a lot with college applications.
Kevin brings in flowers and sets them on the table. Momcomes around, handing us small red envelopes with money inside.
I reach into my back pocket. “Oh, I have one for you, too, Kevin.”
He smiles as he takes it. “Dinner is on you, then.”
“Don’t get too excited.”
We laugh as we sit at the table together. There’s probably enough food here to last us more than a week. Everyone makes sure to try the pineapple fried rice. Kevin says it’s almost as good as Uncle Wong’s Palace. “Almost?” I say back. Mom brings out rice and mung bean cake for us. We spend the rest of the day watching some shows in the living room. For the first time in a while, the house doesn’t feel empty. Sometimes you have to stop and look at the people you have around you. I’m happy for this new beginning.
Each one of Jasmine’s lettersasks for some sort of favor. Little promises she has me make to bring more joy into my life. Some favors are small, like cooking dinner with Mom and Dad, remembering to call Grandma, taking a walk through our favorite park.
Other favors require more effort, such as focusing on college applications, setting new goals, or challenging myself to come up with new film ideas. At first, I was only doing them for Jasmine, but they’ve slowly become an integral part of my life. I’ve already received most of my decision letters, which include a few acceptances to schools in the area. The scholarship program I applied to a few weeks ago just announcedthat I’m a finalist, which my parents are really excited about. Since then, I’ve started a new film project inspired by the recordings Jasmine left me. I think it might be the best film I’ve made so far. I got an email from the Reels Fest a few weeks ago. It’s an independent festival based here in Chicago. My film was chosen for the shorts category, along with three others in my age group.
The screening is tonight at the Music Box Theater. I’m sitting down for coffee, looking over the program. My name is on the fourth page, underneath the title of my film.Hoa Nhài. The screening doesn’t start for a few hours, so I’ve stopped by the café beforehand. I’m trying not to think about people watching my film for the first time. I remind myself art is subjective; all that matters is I’m putting myself out into the world. It can’t be bad if it was chosen by the festival, right? Hopefully, someone will be moved by it.
There’s another reason I came to this café. It is the same one where I met Haru, when he reappeared in my life. I come here every now and then, taking a seat at the same table. It’s a bittersweet feeling, looking at the empty chair. It’s been several months since we’ve seen each other. I still think about him all the time. It’s strange how people can come into your life and disappear from it. It makes you wonder if they were ever really there. I think about Jasmine’s most recent favor.Reach out to a friend. I take the piece of paper from my pocket and place it on the table. It’s been folded into the shape of a star. Just like the one Haru made me before. It took a while for me to learn it. Inside is a note, only a few words long.
You were always real.
I leave it on the table before heading out. I put on my coat and make my way to the train station.
The marquee shines neon redoutside the theater. I head in a few minutes early and find my seat. Velvet curtains line the walls of the auditorium. The first few rows are reserved for filmmakers and volunteers of the festival. I keep looking around, wondering how many people are coming. My palms are sweating a little. I haven’t shown my film to anyone outside of the committee. I’m nervous about how it’s going to be received tonight.
My knee moves up and down as people start streaming in. I keep turning my head, looking to see who’s here. I didn’t send out too many invitations. Not that I know a ton of people. As I’m watching the doors, Mom and Dad come in and take a seat in the middle. I leave the reserved row and go kiss them both on the cheek. A few minutes after, Kevin arrives and sits beside them. The screening is about to start. As I return to my seat, Simon and Alex call my name from the other side of the auditorium, blowing kisses at me. I breathe some relief, knowing they made it in time. I offer a wave before taking my seat near the other filmmakers.
The lights dim, letting us know the screening is about to start. I take a few deep breaths, knowing mine is up first. When my name appears on the screen, I squeeze the armrest as everything around me fades away…
The film opens with a black screen, accompanied by thesound of a single note held on a piano. As the same note is played over and over like a metronome, a child’s voice begins speaking through it. The note slowly turns into a song as the film cuts to a nine-year-old girl opening presents on her birthday. It’s a home movie I found of Jasmine. The quality is a little grainy. She’s laughing as she plays with her toy keyboard for the first time. You can hear Dad’s voice on the other side of the camera. Music continues in the background as we cut to the next scene.
Jasmine is eleven years old. She’s putting on a mini concert in the living room. Her fingers are small against the keys of the piano. Mom is sitting on the floor with me on her lap. We watch Jasmine play for us until the film cuts to the next scene. The picture quality improves. Jasmine grows up to fourteen. She’s playing her first recital now. We’re in the great room of her piano teacher’s house. You can tell she’s nervous by the little mistakes she’s making. I’m recording this time because Dad is at work. For some reason, I keep moving the camera to the cat sleeping on the staircase. Mom taps me and mumbles something inaudible. This gets a few laughs from the audience as the scene changes again. Jasmine is seventeen years old. She’s at her high school music recital. The auditorium is filled with other students and their families. Jasmine plays the song beautifully. She is at her best in this moment. When she’s finished, everyone rises to give a standing ovation as the scene ends. The screen is black for a moment. Music fading back to a single note being held on the piano.
