Down to Earth

They say, sometimes you may not be able to recall the exact moment you started

Falling in love. You just keep wondering, was it at that moment I started feeling different? Yet, I don’t not know when I started liking him. Maybe I’ll never quite know.

The peak of my fangirl moments happened when I was 14, I believe. Everyone in my year knew, even the ones I never went to the same class with. When Jane and Hazel heard my name, basically everyone in my year would immediately associate it with Justin Bieber. Even my class teacher, who was also my English teacher, prepared some news cuts of him on Young Post and South China Morning Post. Sometimes she gave the news cut to Angela sitting at the front and asked her to pass it down to me sitting at the backrow. Every time I received that piece of news cut, I made a little scream inside my heart.

1st of March, 1994, Tuesday, Stratford, Ontario, purple, Sour Patch Kids, spaghetti and meatballs. Justin Drew Bieber. I mean, I like drawing! What an artistic name. Favourite city: Hong Kong. Favourite subject: Eng Lit. Favourite person: me. Check check check. I had a major obsession with mermaids at that time (I still do actually) and I told my friends I really was a mermaid so I had to stay at the poolside at swimming class, in case I showed my tail and shocked our swimming teacher. And Justin was like my Prince Eric. Ariel sings “Part of Your World” and his debut album is My World. Everything just connects. I want to be part of his world. This dream has already come true, actually. We are in the same world.

I know what you’re going to say. It’s crazy to actually fall in love with a celebrity. I’m just one out of a million fans he has. He doesn’t even notice me. Blah blah blah.

But hey, let me stop you here, the probability of falling in love with your true love has always been so tiny. Let’s say there are 100 guys and 100 girls on this planet. The chance for Guy Number One falling in love with Girl Number One is the product of one-hundredth and one-hundredth, correct me if I’m wrong, which equals one-hundred-thousandth. And that is under the assumption that both Guy Number One and Girl Number One are heterosexual. We are living on a spectrum now, which means mathematically it gives us an even bigger denominator. The odds of finding and falling in love, at the end of the day, are totally tiny- teeny. But that doesn’t stop us from chasing our love in the crowds of people we come across shoulder to shoulder every day, does it? Yes, he is a bit faraway, but we are actually pretty close too, if you think about it. Consider this.

Justin and I were born in the same era, with only one-year difference. That is, thanks to both of our parents who gave birth to us at an extremely similar time on the dinosaur timeline. That has to be attributed to the help of our grandparents who met and fell in love and gave birth to our parents. Of course, our great-grandparents and all our ancestors and friends made it happen. If we take all the probabilities of their encounters and love stories into account, there could be millions of possibilities of us never being born in the same era on the same planet. Here we are. We have broken through. The mathematical and logical constraints, fought in time and space, becoming one in a million. If I was born in Balquhidder, somewhere I read, in which the villagers have absolutely no mobile internet access, I could not picture where I would be and who I would become, without knowing that Justin exists. What about being a Martian or born in the 18th or 19th centuries? Let’s not talk about math anymore. Math and words cannot describe my gratitude. That I am privileged enough to listen to his music, and blessed with such a fine taste. We have got it sorted. Both born in the perfect time, the perfect place. If this is not destiny, what is?

I had never been so unforgivingly crazy, sometimes psychic, completely, in love. I know there is something abnormal, crazy inside me but I don’t mind at all. Many people live in this world with too much sanity and too many calculations.

Classes went by like a black-and-white documentary playing in slow motion. One of the highlights of going to school is recess and lunch break. We girls who were not interested in ball games stayed in the classroom browsing through South China Morning Post, Sing Tao and Ming Pao, a newspaper gang especially keen for entertainment. Gotta keep myself updated, to maintain our long-distance relationship. One day, I was rushing through a mathematics homework. Yvonne was giggling a few desks away from me. “Hey Mrs. Bieber”, they always addressed me with my proper title. Yvonne looked at me,

“Come and look at your JB.”

“What’s up?”

Yvonne raised the newspaper headline up high. A huge photo of Justin kissing, with

the girl from the “Baby” music video. They couldn’t kiss. Simply couldn’t! It ached.

Justin’s favourite colour was purple. It was the colour scheme in most of his albums, his caps, zip-up jackets and pullover hoodies. I already loved purple way before I knew purple was his favourite colour. Another coincidence! Yet, I could never wear a purple watch to school…

First of March was an important day. One day in late February, instead of heading home, I went to the stationery shop in Yau Ma Tei after saying goodbye to my friends. It was well-stocked. The papers were all neatly arranged in colour coordination. More than fifty shades of purple papers, party napkins and pencils on the far right of the shelf. I am sensitive to Justin Bieber purple. A shade in between violet and amethyst. It carries a blue undertone, which typically makes it a cool shade but it also feels infinitely warm. It’s kind of a bright blueish purple instead of the pinkish and dull kinds. Basically the perfect shade of purple. My favourite kind.

Looking at my left hand, with the purple paper, it was one shade lighter than the right. A better match for the card. If I picked this light thin paper, it would be crumpled on the road between Hong Kong to the States. Then, further wrinkled when it travelled from the Atlanta post office to Scooter Braun’s office! I went to the cardboard section with different thicknesses and weights. I chose the darker purple. I was going to write the words with a silver marker. Several watercolour brush pens later, I chose the envelope I wanted. Which would Justin read? Light baby pink envelope matched perfectly. Oh wait, if I were Justin, I would probably be too exhausted to open another envelope. I decided to let the card go naked.

The next few days, I went home immediately after school. Even my best friends suggested going to a newly opened café near our school. Time was ticking, and I could not possibly use the time on irrelevant matters. I bought a JB purple cardboard with about half a centimeter of thickness as large as an A3 paper. The card was not aimed to be this big, obviously, but I had to buy more for spare just in case I made some mistakes while drawing on the card. I want a perfect card with impeccable visuals and well-written words that deliver the best wishes, and my love, to Justin. It’s his birthday! He deserves a perfect card. I know this sounds crazy. I mean, this is crazy. I perfectly knew that the chance of his reading my card was absolutely minimal, but I could not bear the loss of the opportunity that my card could be selected and read by Justin. Chances are, my card might be in the lucky batch which would be delivered to his room waiting for him to open. How could I miss this chance! It’s like the lottery. If you don’t join, you never win. I have thought about sending one more card to increase the numerator, but sending one card only seems to hold a higher sense of destiny. I would never want to be mistaken for some “crazy fans” who spam their celebrities’ mailbox. Talking about crazy fans, I think it is important for me to make a distinction between me and them.

I was not the type of fan who hoarded all his CD albums, posters and concert merchandise. I was another type of fan who supported Justin through his ups and downs and prayed for him. Spiritually, the distance between Justin and me as a fan was closer than the distance between him and the fans who merely consumed without caring for him, and syncing with his emotions. If there was a competition of the Biggest Fan Award, I was pretty sure I would score Top 10, not to mention first place, if one of the judging criteria was sincerity and care. I discerned his Instagram posts which might hint he was not so happy. I felt the blue.

Since I fell in love, my birthday has never been the same. His… okay, girlfriend, or girl friend, Selena Gomez shared the same birthdates with me. Out of 365 days in a year, our birthdays clash. It was a torture to read the newspaper or to go on any social media that day. They must appear on the entertainment daily and the Instagram feed. Just imagining him celebrating her birthday made me so jealous. So jealous. I tried to avoid reading the newspaper and scrolling through Instagram that day. But one year, when I thought our birthdays finally passed, the pictures of them celebrating showed up. Three days later than our birthdays. I immediately closed the page and walked away but the image stained my mind. My eyes ached. Reading newspaper from then was a warzone, scattered with traps. You never knew when you would pass over one, until boom!

May 13, 2011 is a day that I will remember for the rest of my life. Hong Kong. His favourite city. He’s coming! Just WOW. My heart skipped a beat when I heard the announcement. Tears were in the corners of my eyes when I saw the official confirmation. That was the moment I realized how fast our tear ducts work. Finally. It was the day we would meet. My World Concert. Hong Kong was part of it, of course. His debut performance in Hong Kong. Oh my god.

But the thing was, all my besties were not his fans… I mean, they didn’t even like him… which was another unsolved mystery I couldn’t comprehend. How on earth would anyone despise him? I was just blessed that I had such a good taste in music, though I was very liberal about diverse tastes in music, unlike them. Angela asked if I was going with anyone. Uhh, no, no one yet. Huh, let me go with you then, said she. I knew she was worried about me going there alone, which I really appreciated. But there was no point going to a concert with a friend who just accompanied you out of chivalry. My aunt even proposed going with me. Like, let’s not make it awkward. Going with her would definitely ruin the night… Who, in the history of the world, would bring their aunt to their date? Uh, not me. How about Kat? Though I had never been to the same class with her, we knew each other’s existence. Sally always told me, Kat mentioned you, and asked her if I had listened to Justin’s latest song and watched the music video. Well, I guess she might also have difficulty finding someone to go with? Not many people in our form had good music taste, sadly. I asked Sally if Kat was going (I assumed yes of course) and whether she was going with anyone. The next day she told me that Kat was going with Tiffany and they already bought their tickets. Well okay… Maybe this was my destiny. I could not wait anymore! They already got the tickets. Going alone was my choice then. Besides, I would never be alone with all the other Beliebers out there, and of course, Justin. There’ll be One Less Lonely Girl.

Onto some practical matters, there were three choices of tickets, $980, $680, $480. I didn’t know which one I should choose. $680 for standing-only region was not a wise choice because I had school that day and I was petite. $980 was too much for me. My parents said they could sponsor me, but I wanted to pay it all by myself. I didn’t know why I thought like that. Actually, $480 was already considered an enormous amount to me. But money shouldn’t be involved in the discussion of love.

After school, I went to Tom Lee Music Store at Telford in Kowloon Bay and bought my first-ever concert ticket. Well, technically, this was not my first concert because I went to Sam Hui concert with my parents, but they were complimentary tickets and I just went there as a supportive daughter so that didn’t count. Looking at the queue of around twelve people in front of me, I was nervous. Don’t tell me that it will be sold out. It’s just the second day. Shit, I should have really come earlier. Sometimes the world can fool you in the most unpredictable way, like you are just a second away from stepping inside the MTR compartment, ten cents away from paying your bus fare, and the last ticket is sold to the person in front of you.

“Next.”

“Justin Bieber My World Concert ticket, $480 please.”

“How many?”

“One.” There was a mix of pride and shame in my voice.

The remaining seats were not very desirable to be honest. They were so far from the stage. But well, $480 seats on a second day, what do you expect? I chose the one in the middle section which faced the stage at the centre. Better than sideview. The “peak seats” basically. So high you should probably bring binoculars. The sound of the printing machine had never been so relieving. The cashier handed me the orange-and-white ticket with the words “Justin Bieber My World Tour Live in Hong Kong 2011”. I felt like Charlie holding the Golden Ticket. I slipped the ticket in the banknote session of my wallet and firmly pressed the button. My worst nightmare would be losing this ticket. I was totally capable of losing things in a blink. I remembered once, I took the notice form from my classmate in front of me. I lost it immediately. This second it was on my desk, next second it was gone. It happened several times. Bermuda on my desk. I quickly rushed back home in case I got robbed. Okay, I am being melodramatic here. But really, I need to keep it somewhere safe as soon as possible.

The weeks before the big day were pretty much restless. I was thinking about my outfit and things that I would bring to attract Justin’s eyeballs. Banner? It can’t be too big though, because there is only myself, and blocking someone in a concert is a crime. Glow stick? Alright, traditional, eye-catching concert necessity. Sure, but where should I buy it? I typed the keyword Justin Bieber and glow stick in the search field of Yahoo Auctions and here a middle-aged guy popped up. From his profile, he produced glow sticks of many artists. All good reviews. Gotcha! The light purple glow stick with Justin Bieber’s name on it. Perfect. I traded it with him at Cheung Sha Wan station. All settled.

That day was Friday. Having a full day of classes before the concert was physically and mentally exhausting. I could not wait for tonight, yet I also did not want this night coming so fast. Anticipating an extremely heavenly thing to happen is one of the best parts. Everyone in my class knew today was the D-day. Yvonne came to ask me the question with an obvious answer. Whether I’m excited or not. Duh. Andrea asked what I was wearing. Kat said she’d see me tonight. Thank god the last class ended on time. I already packed my schoolbag and was ready to rush home. When I was about to step out the door, Sally said “Hey Kim, enjoy tonight!” Kristy said, “Congrats, Kimkim!” Literally the whole class clapped and cheered. At that moment I felt like the pageant winner. “Thank you thank you!” I waved goodbyes and ran down the slope to the MTR station downhill. I have never run so fast in my life. The wind blew my face and I could physically feel time brushing over my shoulder.

I took a bath, packed my essentials, and still struggled if I should wear a more low key outfit or my white Justin Bieber t-shirt Eunice got for my birthday. Let’s go for the t-shirt so it was more recognizable when I met other Beliebers on the way. White JB t-shirt, navy blue skirt and grey leggings. I brought my mini hand drawn banner on an A4 paper as well. That was an impromptu one because I only drew it the previous night. Just a simple “Justin I (heart-shape) you” with my watercolour pencil. I wanted to bring something more personal instead of the commercial banner.

On my way to the Asia World Expo, a few girls were waiting for the next train in a compartment next to me at Lai King platform. They were all wearing purple wristbands. Oh Beliebers, hi there. It was such a rare sight. How blessed they were to have friends who were also Beliebers… Anyway, remember it all, Kim. Tonight’s the night.

7:20pm. Whoosh. Less than one hour to go. I should have really come earlier. Just in time. Justin time. Just Kim time. I took out the perfectly straight ticket from my wallet and showed it to the security guard in his all-black suit. He tore the end of the ticket, handed it back to me and stamped a light purple circle on my hand. How cute. I found my seat with the stairs on my left. The arena was gradually fillinh up.

8pm. I looked at every corner of the stage but there was still no sign of Justin. Still DJ Tay James, playing uncountable times DJ Got Us Falling in Love Tonight, Dynamite and Break Your Heart. My back and feet were already very sore from all the dancing.

8:15pm. The giant 15-minute countdown clock started. Everyone cheered and stood up. We played a few rounds of Mexican waves. I can’t wait. It’s coming. My irregular heartbeat feels like caffeine overdose.

10 seconds left. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1! Justin bursts on stage wearing his white and silver hoodie and pants. There he is, my man. I cannot believe this. My tears are running down to the upward corners of my mouth. The tears blur my vision and I can feel the saltiness in my mouth.

It’s like an angel came by, and took me to heaven.

When Justin invited a girl on stage and presented her a bouquet of flowers, the whole arena were screaming. I wish I could tell you that the girl was me. A paper was stuck under my chair notifying me to come on stage to be the One Less Lonely Girl and all that. But it wasn’t and there wasn’t a paper under my chair. I cried so loud. There was some jealousy, I admit, but I felt so incredibly happy for her. She must not have been able to fall asleep the following nights and not willing to wash her hands. Seeing someone who shared the same dream as you and had her dream come true felt like that.

Yeah, yeah, now I’m gone.

I am hoping there is a three-hour version of Baby, but there isn’t. Most of the time I just see him on the big screen. But now I want to take a final glimpse of him, his actual person, on stage. I squint my eyes. I try to see his face clearly. I go back to the screen.

There he is, once again, after performing Baby. Boom! The confetti blast out on the stage. Millions of silver papers fall like stars. His hands are swinging as he walks to the front of the stage. Wearing his black vest and backward cap. He is full of sweat. He must be so tired from all the singing and dancing. Is it possible that our eyes meet, in a millisecond? When he looks up to the peak? When the directions we look at forms a parallel line? Isn’t it a miracle that you finally meet the person you’ve been dreaming about for all years? Isn’t it a tragedy that this meeting is calling an end?

“I love you so much, everybody. Baby I love you all.”

He turns and walks up the stairs to the backstage. I cannot believe this is the end of

the night. I hope people will shout an encore and Justin will be coming up on stage again, performing, or standing there. But hope is a dangerous thing. The live band plays a final tone. The drummer hits the ride cymbal. Justin Bieber’s headshot from the My World poster is on the screen again. I haven’t taken a good final look. Not good enough. All I manage is to take this blurry photo.

The whole night went by like a lucid dream. My whole body felt weightless. When I stepped on the floor, it felt as if there was a giant bouncing cushion under my sole. It must be the sensation of moonwalking. I thought a standing-only concert was exclusive to those who were good at sports, not for people like me who ran the slowest in PE class, but I stood the whole time.

Someone tapped my shoulder from behind. I turned. A girl in her black t-shirt with the huge word Belieber on the chest.

“Hey, I saw you danced so intensely the whole night.”

“Haha, yeah.” I blushed.

“My friends and I are going to chase after Justin’s car now. Are you coming?”

I did hesitate for two seconds. How does the chasing work? Are we going to stalk him

at the car park and see which car he gets into and run after it? But there must be a lot of security guards.

“Really? But how do you know which car he is on?”

“We’ll see. We think we’ll know.”

Skeptical.

“Um… maybe no. I think I’ll see the merchandise.”

I didn’t know if I’ve made a wrong choice because they may really be able to see him

up close, but I just thought that idea most probably wouldn’t work. I stayed at the arena for a while. I still couldn’t take in the fact that it was over. The most wonderful night ever is over. I had taken enough selfies and I really wanted a proper photo of me and the arena with the giant backdrop of Justin. I saw a group of girls over there, taking pictures. I asked them to take a picture for me with my A4 banner. That was it.

All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you

This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go.

I’m wonderstruck, blushing all the way home.

I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you.

Taylor’s song kept looping on my head on my way back home. I finally knew what enchanted means. This was it. I’m too blessed. I must have done so much charity work and rescued many lives in my past life that made me deserve having such a wonderful night.

On the following few days, I suffered from the post-enchantment blues. Once you have a taste of perfection, all the other matters taste bland. Once you have visited heaven, the fall to the earth hurts. Next time when Justin will come to hold concert in Hong Kong, I’ll have enough savings to buy the VIP package and meet him in person. I can only look forward to something far faraway.

After living a black-and-white life for few months after Justin’s departure, the newspaper was pretty empty. Then she came again. Miss Gomez. They held hands, they rode bicycles, they took Jazmyn and Jaxon out. That should be me. It’s like seeing your stunt in the movie poster. I can temporarily accept this girl replacing me for the time being. Anyway, it’s just a show. You shouldn’t believe everything you see on the entertainments news, and that is common sense.

Loving someone is not just about an attraction to someone’s outer qualities, like appearance or voice, though Justin definitely excels in these. What I loved about Justin the most was his kind heart. He always surprised his fans at hospital and cheered them up from the pain. That day, I had to give a book report representation as one of the projects for our school- based assessment in my English class. Of course, I had to present a book about my husband, Justin Bieber: First Step 2 Forever. Actually I was not sure. I struggled if I should really share it in front of the whole class. I could not guarantee I wouldn’t be too emotional. When I talked about Mrs. Bieber Avalanna, a 5-year-old girl who was diagnosed with a rare brain cancer, and how Justin visited her frequently and brought her to the backstage and on stage, I couldn’t go on. The whole class went silent. Chloe gave me a tissue. Christy cried. Miss Chan said I should calm down and give the presentation again the next day. That was the definition of embarrassment. No wonder relationship experts suggest confessions should be kept private.

Not only am I not able to remember when I fell in love, I was confused on every timestamp of my life events, in general. I remember one morning assembly, when I was in Form 2, I told my friend standing behind me I sometimes forgot how old I was, like I had to do a simple calculation to deduce I was already 13. Venus, standing in front me, caught it and looked stunned. We later became best friends. I don’t mean to digress here, but since when did I feel increasingly threatened by Yvonne’s grin? On an ordinary school day, Yvonne grinned again, “Hey Kim, you won’t like today’s news.” Selena Gomez again? I don’t wanna know. But my eyes were peeking at the page. Bieber Arrested for Drunk Driving. He was charged with drunk driving, road racing, and resisting arrest without violence. Bad influence, bad influence. He really shouldn’t have been so close with Lil Twist and Lil Wayne, all those bastards. It was no wonder people called the entertainment industry a huge “dye bath”. Even Justin was contaminated. My heart was throbbing. Please don’t fall, my angel. I knew I was being selfish here but I kind of wanted him not to be so famous at such a young age. I mean, if I were him, maybe I would also lead such a luxurious, hedonic lifestyle. After all, life is about having fun. And he’s so young. We all have made mistakes. But drunk driving was really not so easily forgivable.

I wrote essays on his Instagram account, and replied some of the people commenting he was cool and all that. That was totally bullshit. Prime examples of bad, blind fans. How could they encourage such behaviour? I wrote more essays in the replies. I felt like a mom. I wondered if feeling like a mom was normal in a relationship. We have our ups and downs. That’s life.

When things are heading to a direction, they tend to follow the same direction for a while, just the way a spacecraft orbits in a destined trajectory. His appearance on the newspapers was ascending. More scandals. His tattoo games were getting stronger. Not that I didn’t like tattoos, although my parents still held the traditional stereotypes that those with tattoos were bad guys, or as they put it, indecent. They said it could ruin one’s career and image. Well, David Beckham has tattoos as well and everyone knows that he’s one of the greatest and coolest dads. But it was just… more resemblance to his bad friends. More rumours about his relationships with unknown women I was too shameful to write here. I remembered wishing Miss Gomez, my surrogate, to be his “proper girlfriend” so he could spend less time with the contamination.

My desktop computer was running slowly. It took about 15 minutes, sometimes longer, to load a webpage. I am not exaggerating. I checked the time taken to load one page on the computer, though maybe the computer was not reliable after all. I have read that gravitational force bends space-time. Time moves faster in space. When the astronauts are descending to the earth from the space, they feel that time moves slower as gravity increases, known as “gravitational time dilation”. I am sorry for the digression. We had decided to throw away the computer. Before putting it in the rubbish bin on our floor, my aunt poured some bleach in the hard drive to prevent data leakage. The photos that I saved to my desktop were all gone. No backups. And guess what? I didn’t even remember this disposal signified the loss of the photos until sometime later. And even the realization is not an aching. Perhaps I am immune.

I think we cannot really tell precisely when we fall out of love either. As the DSE was approaching, I was getting incredibly busy with extra classes at school and tutorial lessons after school. My schedule was packed. Reading newspapers was no longer a daily entertainment. Instead of newspapers, our Jupas choices and rumours about some celebrity tutors in the chained private tuition centre got our attention. I was getting more aware of the ink on my fingers, after reading newspapers, that I had to rub my hands thoroughly with soap. I preferred magazines. One year, I incidentally saw news about Justin celebrating his birthday in Las Vegas. I missed his birthday again. What shocked me the most was how calm I was. I just wished he had a great day. Nothing else.

Falling out of love is less painful than I thought it would be. It’s the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important, as Antoine de Saint-Exupéry wrote it. Time enjoyed wasting is not wasted. It really doesn’t matter the photos are lost. The craze and fantasies are already imprinted in my memory space. As someone with a memory capacity of a goldfish, I don’t dare to say I will really remember it all forever. Perhaps I will, perhaps I won’t. But I am sure that I will remember that I have loved, and that is all that matters.