September, 13, 1996, Friday. (05:45:32)

Again, he passes the empty phone booth, the second one from the right, as thoughts of the girl and his future run pass like a film on fast forward. He rewinds to where he recalls her smile, the one that made his heart beat inside him like a wild bird.*

Lost in imagination, his emotions calculate the possibilities.

Amongst the products and sums, he decides on a wish that the girl would, in some way, become intertwined with his uncertainty and the doubts fabricated by his past.

Consciously, or unconsciously, his desires persuade him to challenge the higher powers he cannot see nor understand, for an opportunity he may not be prepared for.

"One chance," he proposes to himself, "to touch that feeling of belonging. Give me a chance; I'll do the impossible. I'll fold TEN THOUSAND paper cranes. That's ten times more than Sadako wanted. Give me a sign, and it's a deal."

El looks above the elevator, where the numbers indicating the floors above periodically light-up as it makes the descent to the lobby. For a time, the elevator pauses before continuing.

Behind El, a group of undergrads enter the lobby. They are engaged in a rambling, but entertaining conversation filled with rambunctious laughter. The hall monitor, sitting behind the lobby desk, reminds one couple of the rules regarding smoking inside the building. The commotion does not avert El's thoughts of the girl.

Engrossed in his imagination, El fails to notice from within the noisy group the girl he is thinking of emerges.

Unseen, she stands behind El. She ignores his untimely chuckles that, quite possibly, were triggered by a discreet thought of her.

The elevator arrives, spilling another rowdy group of undergrads onto the lobby's lively atmosphere. Both El and the girl, still unseen, filter through the crowd and enter into the elevator.

As the doors close, El hears her voice for the first time. Her youthful tone implies a genuine, respectful intention. They are alone together in the elevator.

"Could you push number four, please?"

Her voice sends him into a nervous state. His hand pushes the elevator button with tense motion.

"Thanks," she gently replies.

He stores every note of her voice like one of his many favorite songs from the '80s, but he finds himself paralyzed to the realization that his knowledge of girls is still under some overdue development.

The unexpected occurs as the doors open. In that moment of their chance encounter, she steps onto the floor, her attention glowing with curiosity; her head, looking over her shoulder, attaches her eyes to his. Their stares connect like two opposite ends of a pair of magnets.

Unintentionally, El fails to quickly identify the signs of her emanating approval that shine from her eyes.

She waits for his acknowledgement.

Instead, she is received with an awkward response of one whose life is a tragic reminder of consistent rejection from his hometown, where he grew up equally unnoticed and acknowledged as he did in his own home.

Overcome with doubt, he resembles a shy schoolboy whose eyes are focused on the floor below.

The inner voice of his father reminds him, "No looking! No gawking! No talking with girls!"

Before the door closes between them, the girl risks a brief, delicate wave of her hand towards his direction just in time for him to notice.

Wondering who the lucky recipient could be, El naively turns to the emptiness behind him.

Ascending with the elevator that immediately malfunctions half a floor above, El fails to notice the girl's fragile smile which was meant for him.


September 13, 1996, Friday, (02:15:46)

A cafeteria jukebox plays George Michael's latest song, "Fast Love." The seductive rhythm is drowned by the chatter of students eating dinner.

This particular setting paints a perfect portrait of social conversation before the dominance of instant messaging and status updating.

Many seats are taken except for the chair across Daniel, who expects El to arrive soon. He tastes his meal, a bland fillet of baked fish, and yesterday's leftover vegetables that has been mixed into a watery base labeled "tomato soup." Minutes later, El arrives carrying a meticulously arrangement of food on his tray.

"Anyone here can tell if you entered the cafeteria!" Daniel exclaims.

"How?" El smiles, flattered by the attention.

"Because, you're the only person who selects George Michael songs on the jukebox."

Daniel notices El's dinner tray: a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a large serving of spaghetti, and a bowl of the tomato soup that are perfectly presented in a way that suggests it will be photographed for a brochure.

The look their faces suggest a desire for more dim-sum from the night before, but they realize neither posses the monetary freedom to regularly eat out.

"The elevator malfunctioned," El says as he reveals a set of chopsticks he purchased from their visit to Chinatown.

"Chopsticks?" Daniel comments, his stare, confused, is more concerned about El's utensils than the fact the elevator broke. "For spaghetti?!"

"I'm practicing."

Daniel can't help stare uncomfortably as the combination of chopsticks and spaghetti give off the same impression as would adding soy sauce to a taco. "Practicing? For what?!"

"At being Asian," El replies. "Didn't you hear what I said? The elevator broke."

Daniel rolls his eyes in disgust while taking a drink of water. He points with his pinky finger to the table behind them.

"Don't look," he says very casually, "But, your girl is sitting a couple of tables away."

El glances over.

"Don't be obvious!" Daniel buffers his disappointment as best as he can.

Retracting his head, El thinks of another approach before daring another attempt to see the older man, dressed in a suit and tie, sitting with the girl; her smile reminds him of the first time he saw her inside the phone booth.

"Here's your chance! Ask her if she likes your haircut," Daniel laughs, tauntingly pointing towards El's the hairstyle he helped to resemble from a 1982 picture of Andrew Ridgeley, the famous pop band member of WHAM!

"Is that her uncle?" El asks.

"I doubt it, Einstein."

"Older brother?"

Taking another sip, Daniel again points using his pinky finger. "Look closer."

El takes a cautious glance. His observation is long enough to notice the man intimately holding her free hand. Moments later, the girl drops her napkin, the one she wiped her lips with and pulls the man's head towards her for a kiss. They exchange a few words before leaving, unaware of the watchful eyes of the two roommates.

"Is the dinner that bad?" El assumes, sensing the urgency of their departure.

"For a guy whose tie is probably worth more than your wardrobe, I doubt this place was good enough for that romantic moment," Daniel deduces.

"This brings me to you," Daniel says, turning to face El.

"Me?"

"Think about it," Daniel begins to explain. "The guy is refined; he wears expensive suits; and you're wearing the same jeans and sneakers since day one. Your shirts have comic book themes. AND, your new hairstyle suggests you're going on tour with New Kids on the Block."

"It's a style...from WHAM!," El corrects. He stops to think of a solution. "So, I need a tie?"

Out of frustration, Daniel changes the subject to where they last left off at the restaurant when he read El's palm.**

"What do you think about my palm reading?"

El shrugs his shoulders. Though impressed at the accuracy, he makes no acknowledgment of acceptance. Noticing El's skepticism, Daniel takes a chance at an obvious insight that does not require any fortune telling to reveal.

"You never clicked with the cool kids, huh?"

"No," El answers, "the cool kids would beat me up because, I read a lot of books. What else would a kid be doing in the library?"

"Maybe, they bullied you because you checked out books instead of girls?" Daniel laughs.

"My own cousin," El continues, "the homecoming queen of my high school, ignored me between classes. When I waved to her, she'd hide. She thought I'd damage her image if anyone knew we were related. But my dad still asked I watch out for her."

Daniel apologizes to El for another laugh he could not control.

"What do you do for fun, El?"

"Sports, but no team wants me. Growing up, I split my time playing with Transformers and babysitting my sister. I was into Transformers that..."

El pauses, giggling to a memory.

"I spent days with my collection," he repeats, "that I discovered the reason behind the name, 'Optimus Prime.' Wanna know?"

"I'm afraid to ask."

El holds up seven fingers.

"'Optimus' has seven letters. Seven is a PRIME number. Get it? 'Optimus PRIME?'" El laughs at the pleasantry of this childhood discovery.

"How did you survive high school?" Daniel asks with curious intent.

A more deeper and noble tone emits from El's voice that sounds like a teenage Captain America struggling to survive puberty.

"It's a good thing I once read 'Web of Spider-Man' issue #31."


September 13, 1996, Friday, (00:33:13)

Outside, two young freshman dressed in pajamas sit on a bench. Together, they share a cigarette underneath the soft buzz of patio lights that illuminate the confining mist of a late Friday evening.

Meanwhile, behind the counter of a completely empty lobby, waiting to check I.D. cards, a hall monitor sits as he wearily reads a text book regarding film history.

As the temperature drops, the mist eerily thickens around the couple like an uncontrolled hemorrhage in a body of water. There is movement inside the misty particles, but there is no breeze that can be felt stirring the foggy haze. The couple, rubbing their arms across their chests, prematurely retire from the cold.

Simultaneously, they reveal their I.D. cards to the half-awake monitor as they wait for the elevator. The monitor relays a nod of approval before a sudden chill persuades him to put on his leather jacket that is a replica from the movie 'Indiana Jones.'

Neither the couple, nor the monitor are aware of the coldness that has stepped inside. It moves to the right toward the slightly opened door that leads into the all-boys floor of Mary Park Hall.

Inside the hall, a loosely taped flyer advertising an upcoming floor meeting falls to the ground. It goes unseen as the lights flicker like a broken camera that flashes uncontrollably. In between the flashes of light and dark, a vague shadow materializes against the wall, but there is no owner. In two heartbeats, the figure fades by the door only to reappear eight rooms down at the opposite end of the hallway in front of the emergency exit.

Two more heartbeats of time passes. In between more flashes, as if with purpose, the shadow turns to face the closed door of the last room to the right.

Just as the lights return to normal, a resident from the middle of the hall steps out to investigate the activity. However, the entity continues unseen.

"Stop playing around!" he yells into the emptiness. "Geez, I hate it when my anime is interrupted."

Our attention is now on the other side of the room at the end of the hallway, where a large glass cookie jar sits on top of a desk with a handful of delicately folded origami paper cranes the size of a thimbles are inside. Each are meticulously placed at the bottom. The emptiness of the jar suggests a lifetime before it can be filled to the top.

Laying alongside a book entitled, "Reality Therapy," by Dr. William Glasser, is a pack of colorful origami paper that have yet to be folded. Each sheet is cut into smaller squares that are sixteen equal, separate parts.

Unknowingly, gliding towards El, asleep as a barely audible song repeats in his headphones that loosely cover his ears, is the shadowy figure.

Uninvited, the shadow seems to intently observe the creative display of colorful paper cranes inside the jar. Uncommon as it is to encounter origami activitiy on a Friday evening inside a dormitory that is known more for risky pleasures, the scene becomes stranger as the shadow moves toward the cookie jar.

Observing from afar, one would have an urge to warn El he is not alone. From the same viewpoint, others would scream witnessing what El cannot see as he drifts away into what is slowly becoming a nightmare:

A dark outline of a faceless observer dressed in a dirty white robe begins creeping towards him.

(00:00:00)