On last Thursday, the magazine was finally out! I was so glad, happy, delighted—indescribably joyous!—though the wait was kind of tormenting…

In the morning right after assembly, I, and other members of the editorial board who were present in school, were informed that the magazine was going to arrive at school at about 10, and we were asked to wait at the Ketua Bidang’s room at 10. I was kind of enthused, though I was ‘tricked’ for two days already (the teacher advisor told me it was going to come on Tuesday, then Wednesday, and finally ‘earliest on Thursday; latest, Friday.’). So, I slipped out of class with the others right at 10, partly because everyone’s ‘favourite’ Maths teacher was there, partly also because I was asked to do so, and mostly, of course, because the magazine was, as told, arriving any minute.

Right. As if a typical Malaysian uncle would arrive on time. No more needed to be said. He was obviously late. Traffic jam? Car breakdown? Driving cautiously to avoid damage on the books? Pick your favourite. We waited for nothing for 35 minutes, and it was recess already. We needed a break, which meant: canteen for food. Right when we were leaving, new news flowed by: the ETA has been pushed forward to 11. Great.

We ate, and we were back, only to know that everything was still the same: Beyond Barriers’ members were waiting—some sitting on the wooden bench and some leaning against the railing—and filling their time with chitchats and passers-by-watching.

Fast forward: it was about 12 already. The magazine finally came! I could feel butterflies in my stomach. I saw the Indian van driver holding a sample of the magazine. I could feel my heart straining because of the battering pulse. I saw the cover. I was breathless. He brought the book upstairs and met the teacher advisor to sign something. I couldn’t help but paced towards the man and the teacher advisor, eyes never leaving the book. I held out a hand to touch it.

My heart gasped. I couldn’t believe it finally out! I made this book. The feeling was most indescribable. I was so melted that I thought I fell in love—oh wait, I did fall in love—with the book. Then I, together with the other people were asked to help unload the magazines from the van. Normally, I would be reluctant because I don’t really like carrying loads, especially under the hot sun, but it was no normal day! Anyone could ask me to do anything and I would say yes.

So, all 1250 books, in 41 reams, were unloaded with the perfect strategy—we lined up from the entrance of the office to the van and passed the reams all the way from the van to the office. Then the magazines were distributed to the Form 5s. And the good news ended there. Someone looked through the book and said, ‘hey, Brandon’s part in the Hall of Fame isn’t there.’ When I heard it, I was like ‘Is it? Don’t care la. The book’s out and nothing can be done’, but then I heard further news: Brandon was crying.

Okay, I was a little guilty now, and I was (and still am) sorry for him. But bad news didn’t end there. After that, Pn. Ho said, ‘Oh, Brandon’s mom is calling me. What am I supposed to tell her?’ And I wasn’t just sad anymore. I was angry. He actually called his mom and told her the news? How old is he? 5?

Okay, he was upset, I know, and if I were in his shoes, I would also be. Crying? That’s fine by me, people need to release their emotions a little sometimes. Telling his friends? That’s okay as well, maybe the news was a little surprising and he needed the comfort and reassurance or whatever you call it, but calling his mom and making her call the school? That’s over the border, crybaby! He should know what his mom is capable of with her insurance-saleslady’s mouth.

After that, things were worse. I didn’t hear any contempt form him anymore, maybe he has moved on. But people, related or not, were calling an ex-co-editor, and he’s thinking that he’s been made the scapegoat.

That was nothing compared to what his mom did: His mom was creating problems. She started telling people with her incontestable oral skills, accusing that because of the teacher advisor’s not-so-friendly relationship with her (who can be friendly with her?), the teacher deliberately removed her son’s section from the book. When I heard it, I was like, ‘What? Why would she do that?’ She had put 101% of effort into making the book, and she’s destroying its perfection with a purposed removal of an important content just because of her personal intolerance with a student’s mother? How plausible is that? So far as I know, she’s not that kind of person. She can differentiate between her social life and her professional life.

I hate that. You have a problem, you tell me straight at my face; you don’t go around spreading rumors bringing down my name. I know I’m not the only one. I’m sure others in the editorial board detest that as much as I do. But hating the act is one thing; solving the problem is another, and the more important one. So after a couple of discussion sessions, we decided to make an extra page to be slotted into the ten hard-covers.

When the decision is halfway in motion, another accusation came by—this time, bigger: Apparently, one of Brandon’s friends has such affection towards him that he actually asked his mom to call the school and accuse the headmistress (gasp!) of the same thing. Obviously, the headmistress had her lips pursed (You’d know what I mean if you watch—or heard about—Devil Wears Prada) and the editorial board members from the science classes were called to her office.

‘One of your parents called and accused me of deliberate removal of Brandon’s section from the school magazine,’ she said something like that. ‘And she claimed that she son is from 4ST1. Which one of you does the parent belongs to?’ I assume that the parent has two sons and the other one is from 5ST1, which means he is Brandon’s classmate and he’s feeling Brandon’s treated unfairly.

Back to the incident, no one responded. Then she asked for the whole incident—accident, in fact—to be explained to the others. The whole thing was something like this:

There are eight students who got the awards. They are given a section each in the school magazine, but only seven of the sections are made. The left out one is, unfortunately, Brandon’s. We made the mistake because of our carelessness. But the blame shouldn’t be exerted only on us, because Brandon didn’t do his part as well. The receivers of the awards were given a chance to check the page and change whatever they dislike (photos, words, and/or name) before the final draft was sent in to the printer/publisher, and Brandon didn’t show up. In fact, according to the teacher advisor, he didn’t even show up for the photography session. So the mistake was made partly also because he didn’t reminded us of him like how the others did, which was merely showing their faces and making their presence noticed. You can’t expect us to remember every single detail of every section of the book when there are 200 pages altogether!

After that, we got a lecture from the headmistress, which sounded something like this:

‘Parents are doubting the teachers integrity, which is not good. We teachers would not do this kind of things to hurt any of our students, regardless of our affairs with their parents. Now that the mistake is made, we should rectify it, instead of pinpointing who did it. I don’t like this behaviour of pinpointing. So, the decided solution is to make the page for him.’

The printed layout of the designed page was passed around the room to be looked by everyone. Then the meeting was adjourned and everyone fled from the office, still wondering whose parent did the accusation.

So now, a page made, a apology letter done, and (I think) a meeting held, the oh-I-want-justice-for-my-son lady is finally satisfied and her rage died—though completely or not, I don’t know. But I still, I want to make a picture of who should be blamed, not only for the mistake, but for the augmentation of it. So, the people would be:

The people of editorial board—particularly the teacher advisor, the co-editors who were responsible for the Hall of Fame section, including me. Firstly, the teacher shouldn’t have overlooked him, not when he was her President, the President of the school’s Interact Club. Secondly, the co-editor who made the layout of the pages should have counted the number of columns on the pages instead of multiplying the assumed number of columns on each page by the number of pages—oh, and the number of students getting the awards too. He’s forgotten that the full-colours receiver gets one whole page, while others get only half a page each. And lastly, me, who was there while he did the pages, should have known that Brandon got an award. I actually didn’t remember that. At one point, I even thought that he transferred school. Stupid and oblivious me.

Brandon and mummy. He shouldn’t have been so passive and humble. He got the award, and he should have been more concerned about it. And when he found out that his section was missing, he shouldn’t have made such a big fuss about it, because so what if his section is not there? He’s got his certificate and trophy already. Education institution administrators are not going to look at the book when deciding to enroll you into their schools; employers are not going to see you when deciding to employ you—they will only look at your certificate. It’s only for remembrance. Okay, remembrance is important too, but your future won’t be destroyed without it. And Brandon’s mummy, don’t you think you’re exaggerating the matter a little too far? All just because your pampered little boy was weeping about it?

Brandon’s buddies who got the awards. They should have cared about Brandon’s part also, instead of only being enthused and excited about theirs. They should have called Brandon along whenever they were called out for any ‘sessions’ regarding the magazine.

Pn. Ho (sorry I pulled you in). She should have taken seven boys to be given the awards like past years instead of eight. And she should have asked about the pages when they were done, and matched them with her list to check who was left out.

The absent-minded, blur, careless, oblivious, functionless editor who was supposed to read through and check the whole draft before it was sent in to the printer/publisher. If he hadn’t been so…so obscure about basically everything regarding the fabulous magazine, this mistake wouldn’t be made at the first place.

Those are all the people I can think of to blame for now.

But besides the Brandon thing, all I get about the magazine is compliments! Good news for me, and of course, the Breaking Barriers’ team.

According to most people I know, this year’s school magazine is fabulous. Some said it’s absolutely worth the RM10 they paid. ‘It’s really colourful, something different.’ A couple of people rated it High Quality, an A- product. They said the book is full of content. Good. Then they won’t have space to scribble nonsense on it. Another comment I’m personally proud of is that they say the articles by the students are really interesting. Good, because I’ve put in a lot of effort organizing, then plotting and slotting them into the pages. All the juice from my right brain was squeezed dry! Doing this book was, so far, an assignment that used a lot of my creativity and ‘weird thinking.’ And the usage of them is much worth it, regarding all the praise I got.

I hope everyone that has it and actually reads it likes it, because it’s really good, and it’s made by ME!

I had a trip to Genting Highlands with my friends from the 18th to 20th of October. It was fun and funky, and also fretful and frothy. Depends how you see it—or should I say: Depends which side of the Gemini me is speaking...

Gem: It was awesome! Absolutely fun. Well, on the first day, I was at the meeting point (KL Central) earlier than the others, earliest, actually. That was boring, because I'm don't talk much, and the friend that came together with me wasn't talking much either, but what the heck? When everyone arrived, the supposedly high-class McDonald's restaurant has turned into a Klang mamak stall—packed, crowded, and noisy. Of course, the 12 people excluding me were the ones talking and making noise and having fun the most, I was just living through it vicariously. One funny news heard was: Two of them waited for each other to fetch them since they live near, only that both of them didn't tell each other that they were waiting. Funny. With tickets bought and the bus coming soon, we moved—later than we planned, I might add. Maybe I drank a little too much cold drink, because with the cold atmosphere of KL Central, I was actually trembling out of hypothermia. Or maybe I was too excited about the coming days... I sat alone in the bus. Lonely not, because I had my mp3 and my favourite songs. It was exhilarating to keep myself from singing out loud. And it was nice of some of them to sit with me. But I guess I was a little cold towards them. I didn't even make an effort to talk. Call me weird.

Skyline was fun too. If I'm not mistaken, we split the 13 of us into 3 groups, 5-4-4. Then I joked to go for 4-4-4-1, since one of us was... er... more concentrated with lipids ;p. Plus, we had quite a lot of luggages—no, they had quite a lot of luggages. I only brought a sports bag with just sufficient necessary items for 3 days. I enjoyed looking at the misty—or was it hazy?—view outside the cable car, and didn't really think much about ridiculous thoughts like the cable car line or the cable car screws snapping and the cable car I was in falling down into the bottomless forest and snapping my neck or cracking my head. Okay, thinking about it now is scary.

We finally were there and we took a long walk to the lobby. The place was so familiar, and yet seemed so strange at the same time. I felt like knowing it, and not knowing it at the same time. Maybe I was thinking too much. So, we were at the lobby. Oops, lipids-concentrated guy (LCG)’s Dad wasn't there yet to check in for us, and that meant: lunch time! We didn't really ate anything stomach-filling in the morning before going onboard, or so I think (I know I didn’t eat anything), so we could really use some quality lunch. And the so-called quality lunch ended up to be fast food—again. We had KFC, and some of us couldn’t finish what they ordered. I wonder if they do that every time they take a set of fast food on their own.

One of us was waiting at the lobby, taking care of our luggages, while the rest of us went for food. He said, ‘I don’t feel like eating now.’ It was a good thing, or else one of us would have to sacrifice to wait in hunger while everybody else enjoyed themselves.

We finally checked in sometime around 1.30pm, if I’m not mistaken, again. Some remarks about LCG’s Dad were heard. Some said he looks cooler than LCG. I can’t really judge, and don’t really want to judge. Anyway, our rooms were separate rooms (Aw!). Lucky me, my room was the biggest. It was spacious (for a hotel room), and the beds were soft (I know mine was). The TV was high above the dresser, and wasn’t really convenient for video games, but we could live with that. The only problem was the bathrooms: There is no lock for the both of them, and the doors are semi-transparent! And for the shower bathroom, it was square and the hangers are right next to the showerhead. The only useable hangers are on the outside or the room. Gees, it was really the start of something new. We had to trust each other to not open the doors when we were using them. And also, not to stare too long or look too enthused when we were walking out of the shower with only an underwear and a towel wrapped around on the waist (Actually, it was just them. I have my own way to protect my body from exposure to the naked eyes, though it needs me to occupy the bathroom a little longer).

 It was afternoon already when we finally settled down. So we decided to save the outdoors for the next day and crash the indoors first. Some of them enjoyed bowling while I can’t bowl; the rest of them had fun playing at Funtasy World while I don’t really like all the racing and surfing and shooting. The only arcade I played was the hand-style Dance Machine. It was money-consuming to play all these. But I tried enjoying everything vicariously though.

 Anyway, after that, we went back into our rooms, except for a few, who went for karaoke. We who went back to our rooms gathered in my room for a round of PS2 before dinner. Naruto 3, definitely fun, and I found that I’m not bad of a player myself. Call me thick-skinned.

The crumple of unity happened during dinner. We were brought to a noodle shop. The food was pricy, for we were Genting Highlands, but not too expensive, to me. But not for some of them, or actually, most of them. They went hunting for cheaper food, while the one that brought the crowd here and I ate at the noodle shop. Later, some of the ‘hunters’ came back. They said the stall they hunted down is not meant for humans, for it is in a parking lot and is patronized by illicit immigrants and old-fashioned Indian men who drink and practise ‘domestic autocracy’—or people who look like them. So they came back. They’d rather pay more for food of higher quality and a place of better security. They made the right choice. Don’t be a general in chariot, be a general at off-duty. Risk your money, but don’t risk your life. But then again, I have to say ‘Wow!’ to those who actually finished their food there and came back alive for their outrageous courage.

After dinner, some of us who ate at the noodle shop, including me, did some window shopping and played more arcades before going back to our rooms. We had some drinks later at night before watching Charmed then finally getting into bed. Day 1 was up.

We had the most fun the next day. A few of us went to a classy bakery shop for breakfast while the rest went for an expensive buffet before regrouping at the Outdoor Theme Park. The day was amazing. I took rides that I never thought I could make through without getting heart attacks and being scared to death. Corkscrew, which I thought was scary even looking at the cars (or are they called gondolas?) zooming up and down its path? It’s nothing but fun and adrenaline-pumping. Solero Shot, which when I rode it for the first time last year I thought was exhilarating? It’s exhilarating and scarily fun. Flying Coaster? Oh, this is the odd one. First time during last year’s trip? Scary, and I didn’t really enjoyed it because I had to make sure my glasses don’t fly off halfway through the ride. Second time, which is during this year’s trip? Still scary, but I like it. Third time? Scary too, and I’m feeling a little nausea, so let’s not do it again (We got an offer to ride it continuously for 5 times for the price of one!). The 4D Motion Master kind of sucked! I was finally healing from the nausea I got from the 2 rides of Flying Coaster and it made me want to throw up again. But bumper car was definitely relaxing.

The few of us also had a karaoke session, only for RM16.80 each! How cheap is that? We sang like mad! We sang so many songs that even song like Barbie Girl is listed without second thoughts. It was crazy.

During dinner time, the few of us ate at another noodle shop while the others went for another buffet. We gossiped about them for eating at the Not-For-Human Stall yesterday. But it was nothing serious, just saying words, meaning them but not meaning to offend anyone. At least I don’t think we hurt anyone, if anyone knows at all.

After dinner, we regrouped again and had a walk in the shopping complex. The place is awesome. I don’t know why I didn’t pay attention to it last year, or a few years back when I came here. The idea itself is good. Cultures and buildings of different parts of the world are built in one place, giving you an illusion of traveling around world with just your legs, and creating an imagined view of globalization. It’s like you don’t need ships and aeroplanes to go from Malaysia to New York, to Venice, to Paris, to the Oscar Awards… All you need to do is walk, and you can actually enter a restaurant that looks like a restaurant in Venice, but being served with Malaysian-style coffee or tea. It’s like everywhere is your home, and your home is everywhere.

I had a little problem at the second night. When I was back in my room, people were sleeping on it, drooling and all. I wanted to slap them in their faces, and bellow at them, ‘Get off my bed at once and go back to your stinking room!’ But then I thought better of it. It was midnight, and I was too tired to do this kind of ‘disciplining’ and ‘life-lesson-teaching’. So I ended up sleeping at their room, not sure if I was fuming, and if I wanted to be angry at all.

The next day was the last day of the trip. I packed and followed yesterday’s ‘karaoke crew’ for a breakfast buffet. There wasn’t much to eat, but it was good enough. I’d thought the couple of days before were long when I was going through them, but thinking back at them now, they passed pretty fast.

Some of the guys wanted to go back early to catch up with tuition. It was sad news. We came together, we must leave together. But they broke the rule. Maybe they are too homesick at anywhere besides home, unlike us, who feel homey anywhere especially home. So we sent them back, and had fun for a couple of hours more before going back.

Ini: It was okay. Lots of fun time, and lots of fume time as well. Well, on the first day, I was at the meeting point (KL Central) earlier than the others, earliest, actually. That was totally boring, because I'm don't talk much, and the friend that came together with me wasn't talking much either. And why did they have to come late? Such hypocrites. And when everyone arrived, the supposedly high-class McDonald's restaurant has turned into a Klang mamak stall—packed, crowded, and noisy. Of course, the 12 people excluding me were the ones talking and making noise and having fun the most, I was just waiting for our tickets so that we could get moving. One stupid news heard was: Two of the guys waited for each other to fetch them since they live near, only that both of them didn't tell each other that they were waiting. How stupid was that? Finally, with the tickets bought and the bus coming soon, we moved—later than we planned, thanks to everyone. I regretted drinking the cup of Ribena, because with the cold atmosphere of KL Central, I was actually trembling out of hypothermia. Or maybe I was too excited about the coming days... I sat alone in the bus. Lonely not, because I had my mp3 and my favourite songs. I didn’t feel like talking anyway. But how I wished I could sing out loud the songs I was listening to. It was nice of some of them to sit with me. But too bad for them, I wasn’t in the mood to talk and I wasn’t going to talk just for the sake of talking. Call me weird.

Skyline was okay. If I'm not mistaken, we split the 13 of us into 3 groups, 5-4-4. Then I kind of suggested jokingly that we go for 4-4-4-1, since one of us was fat. Plus, they had quite a lot of luggages. I only brought a sports bag with just sufficient necessary items for 3 days. I don’t know what they were bringing so much. I enjoyed looking at the misty—or I think it was hazy—view outside the cable car. I had a couple of thoughts like the cable car line or the cable car screws snapping and the cable car I was in falling down into the bottomless forest and snapping my neck or cracking my head. Luckily the view and my companions’ talking distracted me, or I might’ve freaked out.  

We finally were there and we took a straining walk to the lobby. The place was so familiar, and yet so strange at the same time. I felt like knowing it, and not knowing it at the same time. I’ve been there quite a lot of times, but I seem to never remember the directions. Anyway, so we were at the lobby. Oops, fat guy’s Dad wasn't there yet to check in for us. Fortunately we could pass our time with some quality lunch, since we didn't really ate anything stomach-filling in the morning before going onboard, or so I think (I know I didn’t eat anything). And the so-called quality lunch ended up to be fast food—again. We had KFC, and some of us couldn’t finish what they ordered—wasting food. I mean, c’mon, we are guys, and I’m sure you people can eat more than you did.

One of us was waiting at the lobby, taking care of our luggages, while the rest of us went for food. He said, ‘I don’t feel like eating now.’ Good for him, otherwise we have to sacrifice one of us to wait in hunger while everybody else enjoyed themselves.

We finally checked in sometime around 1.30pm, if I’m not mistaken, again. Some remarks about fat guy’s Dad were heard. Some said he looks cooler than LCG. Maybe, maybe not. I can’t really judge, and don’t really want to judge. Pointless. Anyway, our rooms were separate rooms. Lucky me, my room was the biggest. It was spacious (for a hotel room), and the beds were soft (at least mine was). Too bad the stupid TV was high above the dresser, and wasn’t really convenient for video games, but that wasn’t the real problem. The real problem was the bathrooms: There is no lock for the both of them, and the doors are semi-transparent! And for the shower bathroom, it was square and the hangers are right next to the showerhead. The only useable hangers are on the outside or the room. Hate it. Which stupid architect designed the room? What was he thinking? A couple’s room? Well, if it was a couple’s room, there’s wouldn’t be 3 beds, would there? Stupid. We—no, they—had to trust each other to not open the doors when we were using them. And also, not to stare too long or look too enthused when they were walking out of the shower with only an underwear and a towel wrapped around on the waist. Poor them. Luckily I have my own way to protect my body from exposure to the naked eyes, though it needs me to occupy the bathroom a little longer.

It was afternoon already when we finally settled down. We decided to save the outdoors for the next day and crash the indoors first. I didn’t really have much fun. Some of them enjoyed bowling while I can’t bowl; the rest of them had fun playing at Funtasy World while I don’t really like all the racing and surfing and shooting. The only arcade I played was the hand-style Dance Machine. It was money-wasting to play all these. The fun doesn’t even last long. Maybe I’m just a geek.

Anyway, after that, we went back into our rooms, except for a few, who went for karaoke. We who went back to our rooms gathered in my room for a round of PS2 before dinner. And my room was bustling with noise and people. Naruto 3, definitely fun. Some of them is really good. I bet they always play it. Good for them, spending time on video games but not wasting time on studies. But I found that I’m not bad of a player myself. Call me thick-skinned.

Unity corruption happened during dinner. We were brought to a noodle shop. The food was pricy, for it’s Genting Highlands, but not too expensive, to me. But not for some of them, or actually, most of them. Stingy people. They went hunting for cheaper food, while the friend that brought the crowd here and I ate at the noodle shop. But later some of them came back. They said the stall they hunted down is not meant for humans, for it is in a parking lot and is patronized by illicit immigrants and old-fashioned Indian men who drink and practise ‘domestic autocracy’—or people who look like them. So they came back. They’d rather pay more for food of higher quality and a place of better security. They made the right choice. See? Why not just eat there at the first place? My side is always the better side. Don’t be a general in chariot, be a general at off-duty. Risk your money, don’t risk your life. But then again, thank god those who went there finished their food and came back alive!

After dinner, some of us who ate at the noodle shop, including me, did some window shopping and played more arcades before going back to our rooms. Then later at night, we had some drinks before watching Charmed then finally getting into bed.

The next day was fun. A few of us went to a classy bakery shop for breakfast while the rest went for an expensive buffet (Sigh. Saving up money just to spend more than they saved) before regrouping at the Outdoor Theme Park. The day was amazing for me. I actually took rides that I never thought I could make through without getting heart attacks and being scared to death. Corkscrew, which I thought was scary even looking at the cars (or are they called gondolas?) zooming up and down its path? It’s fun and not as scary as I thought. Solero Shot, which I rode already for the first time during last year’s trip? It’s still plain scary. Flying Coaster? Oh, this is the odd one. First time during last year’s trip? Scary, and I didn’t really enjoyed it because I had to make sure my glasses don’t fly off halfway through the ride. Second time, which is during this year’s trip? Still scary. Third time? Scary too, and I’m feeling a little nausea, so let’s not do it again (We got an offer to ride it continuously for 5 times for the price of one. Are the Genting people mad or crazy? They better pray hard they don’t kill a person with the offer then get sued.). The 4D Motion Master sucked to hell! I was finally healing from the nausea I got from the 2 rides of Flying Coaster and it made me want to throw up again. Taking a boat or ship doesn’t even make me this naupathic. Bumper car was okay.

The few of us had a karaoke session, only for RM16.80 each! It makes me wonder what do they earn by doing promotions like that. Anyway, they sang like mad! We sang so many songs that even song like Barbie Girl is listed. But they weren’t putting effort to singing well, or at least I didn’t see the effort. Not that it mattered anyway. It was just crazy.

During dinner time, the few of us ate at another noodle shop while the others went for another buffet. We gossiped about them for eating at the Not-For-Human Stall yesterday. But it was nothing serious, just saying words, meaning them but not meaning to offend anyone. At least I don’t think we hurt anyone, if anyone knows at all. But they seriously need some negative gossips for doing what they did, and so that they don’t do it again.

After dinner, we regrouped again and had a walk in the shopping complex. The place is awesome. I don’t know why I didn’t pay attention to it last year, or a few years back when I came here. It was romantic, the designs, the lighting and all. If only I have a girlfriend and actually brought her here. I couldn’t stop myself from thinking what we could do there and what could happen if we really were alone out there…

I had a little problem when I went back to my room—people were sleeping on my bed, drooling and all. I sure fumed for a moment, and felt like slapping them in their faces then roar at them, ‘Get off my bed at once and go back to your stinking room!’ But then I thought better of it. It was midnight, and I would wake unnecessary people. And it would really affect my relationship with them if I did that. So I ended up sleeping at their room, a little angry, though I didn’t want to.

The next day was the last day of the trip. I packed and followed yesterday’s ‘karaoke crew’ for a breakfast buffet. There wasn’t much to eat, and I don’t know id it was worth my money. Anyway, I’d thought the couple of days before were long when I was going through them, but thinking back at them now, while I ate and relaxed with O Sole Mio irritatingly repeated countless times, they passed pretty fast. Some of the guys wanted to go back early to catch up with tuition. The first thought that struck me was: What were they thinking? It’s a after-exams trip, so why can’t they just skip tuition and enjoy for once? I skipped my tuition on Wednesday, and the subject is not even thought in school, so why couldn’t they skip their tuitions, which the subjects are thought in school? We came together, we must leave together. They broke the rule. If they were missing, I would so not take the blame. Maybe they’d always stayed home and are too homesick at anywhere besides home. Too bad for them, and if I were to bring them anywhere, I’d think twice. So anyway, we sent them back, and had fun for a couple of hours more before going back.