"Hey."
"Hey, what's up?"
"How are you doing?"
"I'm great, thanks for asking. It's been a while."
"Yes, it's been 5 years..."
"So why are you calling me now?"
"You remember I told you eventually I would forget you?"
"Yeah I remember, what's wrong with that?"
"I finally did it, but in the next world. Goodbye, Liam."
"What do you mean by next world?"
[no answer]
"Hey Stella, are you there? Hey, hey, answer me."
[voice of a woman: God Stella, wake up darling, please wake up, nurse, nurse...]
.
.
.
.
.
I would take it back to where my story began.

Autumn 2017, Melbourne, Australia

"Good morning mom"

"Hi sweetheart, the weather's gonna be a little bit chill today, go grab your jacket."

"Nah I'm fine mom, I feel cool, let's eat breakfast."

That's what my typical morning always is, and not to mention, my mom is the best cook ever. We were originally from Vietnam, and in Vietnam, women have to learn lot of stuff, which includes cooking. We were raised to be a perfect wife, to be good at cooking, sewing, doing the chores in general I guess. And the most important thing: we should be kind and gentle towards the male. However, at the age of ten, my family moved to Australia, and Melbourne was the city we chose to settle down. Our life was hard at first, because the economy and business here is so much different from Vietnam, and on top of that, everything here is expensive to us. Yes, really expensive.

"Hey Stella, you need to eat quicker, or you're gonna be late for school darling."

"Alright mom, I'm not going to be late, it's only 8.30."

And in case you wonder where the name "Stella" comes from, it's my English name. My Vietnamese name is "Thuy Tien", which means narcissus, a kind of flower, but the local always pronounce it wrong so it would be much easier to just call me "Stella".

"Bye mom, I'm heading to school now."

"Bye darling, study well."

In Australia, I notice that the parents do not expect too high in their children, they want their children to follow their passions. However, parents in Vietnam are kinda strict because they have high expectations for their kids, they want them to be the top students in the class. They make them study really hard, and reach a certain level. If you think it is too much, yeah I would be on the same side with you. But if you think that's going to make the children worse, I would need to defend here. Even though it puts stresses upon the kids, the outcome worths it. Believe me, no pain, no gain.

[Bell rings]
[voice of teacher: Students, please get into your classes now, it's 9.00am.]

The students start getting up, packing up stuffs and heading to their classes.

"Hey Stella."

"Hi Sophie, we have Methods together this morning right?"

"Yes, why you never remember the schedule, it's really easy to remember."

"Sorry bad memory, I'll try to remember."

"Nah forget it. You told me that a thousand times and now you still stand here and ask me the same question every Monday morning."

"Ok ok let's go to class."

When we get to class, it is surprised that not so many students have come to class, nor the teacher. I look at the clock, it says "9.02", which means the lesson is supposed to start now. I roll my eye around, there she is, Ms. Singh, my lovely teacher. Ms. Singh is a beautiful Indian woman to me, and a respectful and talented Math teacher. She teaches Math Methods, a medium level of Math. I've studied with her before, and she is a very, very good teacher. She always makes sure the students understand all the concepts and theory she teaches. Even though her accent is a little bit hard to hear, I'm totally fine and still surviving.

"Hey Stella how are you?"

"Hi Ms. Singh, I'm good, thanks."

"How are you going with the homework I gave?"

"Yeah, I almost finished it, except for this question. Can we discuss about it?"

"Sure we can. Ok let me have a look, which question?"

One thing I learn in Australia, is that you can always ask questions if you don't understand anything. In Vietnam, the students feel difficult to ask question because their pride are too big and we feel embarrassed if everyone understands the lesson except for you.

So after a few minutes, Ms. Singh and I solve the question out, and I feel relieved about that. I love Maths, I do. I find hard questions really interesting because it gets me think a lot and it improves my brain skills.

The students finally get to class and our lesson begins. Sometimes I find Maths interesting but sometimes it is not. Actually it depends, because I super hate theory. When Ms. Singh teaches theory, I normally sleep in class but she never says a word about that.

[door knocking]

"Come in Liam.", Ms. Singh says.

Then a boy just the same age with me comes in. At first, I did not even lift my head up. Until he speaks.

"Hi Ms. Singh, this is the document you'd asked for."

His voice is deep and so tender. It makes my brain stop for a while, because it reminds me some of my memories,  but I can't figure out what it is. So, I immediately raise my head to see who he is. After just a moment my eyes were on his face, my heart misses a beat. It sounds scary and believe me, it is. My heart then beats really fast, non-stop, and I just can't take my eyes off him. He has a charming look, not like the look of any cool handsome guy you see on the street, but his charming is a kind of mature and intelligence. His eyes are deep and brown black, and his hair is nicely cut. He may not look special to other people but he is special to me, and that is what I know for sure.

"Alright, you can put it here Liam, thanks so much, I'll see you next period."

"No worries Miss, see you."

Then he slowly leaves the classroom and closes the door. My eyes move as he moves. His gestures are really slow and tender, and it makes my heart feel a little vibrating.

Liam, yes, from now on this name will stay in my mind.