Visionaries Writer Submission: Dylan A.
The Frequency Synopsis
The story begins with Korbin, the protagonist, anxiously waiting for a girl he recently met, hoping for a New Year's Eve date in Times Square. As time passes and she fails to appear, Korbin is overwhelmed by disappointment and loneliness. During this time, he encounters Heidi, a mysterious and blunt woman with a complex emotional depth. They connect through their shared disillusionment and sense of purposelessness. The night takes a darker turn when Heidi suggests they end their lives together, but Korbin ultimately refuses. The story concludes months later with Korbin reflecting on his personal growth and a chance meeting with Heidi at a cemetery, leaving him with unresolved emotions and the possibility of reigniting old tensions.
Lone Husk
“I wonder why she isn’t here yet.”
It’s freezing tonight. Everyone’s having a great time partying and drinking ‘till their minds escape them. Me? I’m standing here, by a soda machine in the middle of Times Square, waiting for someone I met not even a day ago. We were supposed to meet up at 9.
“Maybe she just wrote down the wrong time.”
Am I just denying what I already know? She was too much of a sweetheart to do anything malicious.
I guess I’ll leave at ten and give her a “Happy New Year!” call tomorrow.
I remember how warm her smile was. It lit up my night sky brighter than the murky New York streetlights ever could. I saw her only for a brief 10 minutes, but in that amount of time, I managed to get further than I have in the past 22 years.
Not that it’s hard to top, anyway.
“I know! I’ll go in and buy us some coffee.”
Conveniently, she told me to meet her at Starbucks. What’ll I get? Maybe a Doubleshot Espresso. I gotta spend the rest of 2016 in a lively manner, after all. What would I get for her, though? She seemed like she likes sweet things, but who doesn’t? Pumpkin Spice Lattes are long gone with the winter wind. Cinnamon? Seems Christmas-y, but that’s more of a sleep aid than anything else. Eh, I’ll just tell––
“What would you like, sir?”
I forgot that any sort of line is nonexistent at this time of night. I feel bad for the barista, though, having to work tonight.
“Oh, I’d like a Doubleshot Espresso with whipped cream.”
Whipped cream? What am I? 12?
“And a Caramel Macchiato.”
Well, that’s one way to make a decision. If it wasn’t for the menu behind her, I might as well have said “kawfee.” However, she had a quizzical look on her face that made me regret my words.
“Did you mean Macchiato?”
“Y-yeah”
“Al...right. That’ll be $9.45. I’ll have them out to you in just a few minutes.”
Ridiculously inflated prices, as usual.
The lights outside make this place invisible. The warm air contrasts very strangely with the tundra out in Times Square. The people out there are bustling, waiting for 2017, yet it feels so calm. Coffee really does sound nice right now. Too bad she’s not––
“Here’s your kawfee, sir.”
I’ve always hated the New York accent.
“Thank you.”
I don’t know where to go. I guess I’ll just sit outside so she can find me easier. Actually, I think I’ll just text her.
10:30 pm.
I can feel my heart drop.
How long was I in there?
It doesn’t matter. Whether it was 5 minutes or 5 hours, the result would’ve been the same pathetic, depressing, lonely, unsatisfactory excuse for a first date.
Lonely.
“I guess I’ll just go home.”
The sidewalk is pale all the way down to that intersection. Oh well, it’s not like the end of the world. Just a pretty lame way to spend your last night of the year. But––I don’t even like caramel…
“Huh?”
Before I noticed a crystal blue scarf leaving a trail seemingly made of jewels in front of my face, I saw a girl with smooth, oak hair and piercing blue eyes invading my eyesight, gazing directly and unflinchingly into my soul before quickly erasing me and walking away. It was so momentary that I had trouble processing it. Yet––I feel like I saw nothing.
She stopped.
“You’re just like me…”
I don’t understand.
“…how disgusting.”
Now I do.
“I assume you’re alone tonight as well?” I asked.
“I’m not going to sleep with someone like you.”
That’s not exactly what I was going for.
“Where are you going?”
“Away from you.”
She said it with the sincerest of tones, too.
“Am I really that bad?”
“Your hair is all over the place, you have snow and dirt on your skin, your jacket is a hand-me-down, your nose is running, your fly is down, and your face is completely devoid of emotion. On top of that, your two cups of coffee as opposed to your one self suggest that you are incapable of making friends.”
Is my flight down?
“Why are you out here alone, then?”
Like me? I almost added.
“Sit.”
She pointed at the bench adjacent to me as if expecting me to drop everything and eagerly obey her every command. I have no response. Well, I guess I have nothing better to do. Now where to put my cof–
“I’ll take one of those.”
Wait, what is she–
“Delicious.”
She really did just drink my coffee… Well, I guess I was just gonna throw the caramel away anyway. Might as well have a cute girl drink it instead of some hobo in a landfill.
“Sit.”
Why did I say that?! Knowing her nature by now, she’s either gonna walk away scorningly or throw the coffee right back into my face.
“You got stood up, right?”
Without even making eye contact, she just described my entire night in one sentence. Just who is this girl?
“Admittedly, yes… It’s no big deal, though. She was just some random girl I met while walking home one day.”
“Is that so?”
She saw right through me.
“Well, you’re one to talk! Why are you walking alone on a deserted street at 10:30 at night?”
“I thought I’d go for one last look at the city before it ends.”
She said it with such a grin, too.
“It being 2016, that is,” she added.
“Huh.”
“After all, it’s not like I can cook, anyway.”
“Can’t you at least make a sandwich?”
“Correction: It’s not like I ever learned how to cook, anyway.”
What kind of person doesn’t at least know how to make a sandwich? She doesn’t look malnourished or anything. Does she live on her own? If she goes to school, she should have received some culinary instruction by now. What if she can’t afford high-level schooling? She doesn’t look that poor. Her vibrant purple coat goes nicely with her oak hair and crystal blue scarf. It’s like she’s a walking color palette.
She still hasn’t abandoned her fixed gaze at the Hudson River. What is she thinking about? I can’t get a read on this girl as easily as I can with others. What can I do to attract her eyesight?
“Korbin.”
“Hm?”
Yes! I gained her intrigue.
“My name’s Korbin. As in K-O-R-B-I-N.”
Giving your name when someone else gives you theirs in a conversation is natural. She looks more like an Alina than anything else.
“Heidi.”
As in “kind” and “always smiling”?
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Heidi.”
Well, that went over relatively smoothly.
“What do you do to push yourself along, Korbin?”
“I work in customer service at a grocery store right now, but I’m thinking of transferring soon since I plan on attending NYU next year.
“I see.”
Does she not care? That kind of response, coupled with a nonchalant sip of coffee, usually suggests that you have merely made small talk that will be forgotten the next day.
“I’m surprised you can hold a strenuous job like that…”
Is she being sarcastic?
“Yeah. The amount of people who come to the desk every day is insane. And my job is to send them all off with a smile, too.”
“…given that you can’t even get a date.”
“Ack!”
Her ruthlessness is swift yet deadly.
“Fine then! What do you do to get by?”
“. . . . . . .”
I’m assuming I just stepped on a landmine.
“I live off my father’s inheritance.”
“Oh… I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s most likely not your fault.”
Most likely?
I had thought something was off about Heidi, but nothing quite like a dead family member. She seems like the type who has not exactly picked up social lingo all that well due to reasons x, y, and z.
Wait.
“Do you have any other family members?”
“None.”
So quick! As if she knew I was going to ask.
“Favorite kind of music?”
“No preference.”
“What do you like to do for fun?”
“I like to browse internet message boards and stir up fights for my personal amusement, particularly with fights where the ability to win is nonexistent, like with important debates such as whether cats or dogs are better.”
Why was that answer so detailed?
“The correct answer is dogs.”
She said that so triumphantly, too.
“Do you own any dogs?”
“None.
Why am I asking these questions? What do I gain from this? The fact that she’s answering my questions so quickly is a feat unto itself.
“It’s time I ask you a question, Korbin.”
Her face turned to stone! What’s she gonna ask me?
“. . . . . . .”
“Are you really that curious about my scarf?”
Scarf? I haven’t even noticed it since we were standing up.
Wait.
“Well, it looks really warm. Y-you don’t have to give it to me though!”
“I wasn’t going to.”
Cold as ice.
“One more question.”
Why’s she speaking up? Is she irritated? It wouldn’t surprise me. Even I irritate myself. I’ve been single for 22 years, and still––
“What do you think of me?”
“How did she get so close without me noticing?! She said that while lying her head on my shoulder. She’s trying to gain brownie points. Now that I think about it, her body is warm, and the scarf truly is nothing to scoff at. Her hair is silk and carries a faint scent of ginger. Even with her noxious speech, Heidi feels astonishingly warm.”
“Way to hammer it home, Korbin.”
Oh hey, I got her to chuckle.
Wait.
I said that aloud.
I said that out loud.
“Well, um, I––”
“Do you speak that way to everyone?” she interjected.
“I didn’t mean to say––”
“Because if that’s the case, it's no wonder you have no one in your life. It’s so creepy; it makes me want to die.”
In such a soft tone, too. Surely, she wasn’t trying to damage my ear. She seems conscious that her words are corrosive to the highest degree.
“You don’t have anyone. You’re just living paycheck to paycheck, with nothing to interest you but yourself. You live in absolute misery daily, knowing you’re fighting a losing battle.”
What’s she saying?
“You’re just like me.”
What is she saying?
“W-what do you mean?”
I don’t know what to say.
“Do you have a purpose?”
What kind of question is that? Of course, I have a purpose!
…
Of course, I want to do something greater!
…
Of course, I have something to do.
…
Of course, I can do something.
…
Of course I––am something.
“Is that the sound of you contemplating your existence?”
Why is she saying this?
“I’m granting you permission to look at my body because I don’t care…”
I just noticed what I was doing.
“…how disgusting.”
Her words stung this time. They aroused a pain that I’d never felt before.
Sorrow? Nope, felt that before.
Limited? Nah, I’ve been that way all my life.
Shame? No, I know how numb that feeling is.
The midnight sky against the glossy, rippling waves of the river fits the emotional damage I’m taking, yet––I don’t care.
“Let me ask you something, Korbin. I’m cold. Do you want to go someplace warm?”
What is she saying? I was talking to her to give myself something to do, but now I.
I was talking to her because I wanted to forget that I got––stood up.
I was talking to her––because maybe her harrowing words have a modicum of truth.
“Are you thinking about something?” she asked, grasping my attention.
I’ll just text my neighbors to turn the AC off for me.
Heidi’s apartment is eerily dark, probably for the best. It’s silent and feels pleasantly cool, like the purgatory between life and––never mind.
11:56 pm.
I guess I can kiss 2016 goodbye––again, probably for the best.
“Please.”
That’s the first halfway-decent thing I’ve heard yet come out of her mouth. Wait, where am I going? I can feel her hand clasping to my shirt––she’s leading me somewhere. But where? How can she even see in here? Is she used to the void? Or does she know this room so well that she can easily navigate it? Either way, I’m surprised I haven’t killed one of my toes yet.
She stopped.
Why?
“Wanna kill yourself with me?”
What?
Should I run?
Should I defend myself?
Should I stay in silence?
All I can say is––all I’m allowed to say is,
“Why?”
“Together, we’re both equivalent to nothing. We provide nothing to the world, nor do we know what to do with our lives. Tonight, I was searching for a reason to live…”
I’m starting to understand what she’s saying––and what she will say.
“…rather, I found a reason to die.”
What’s she doing? Hugging me? No, people only do that to show affection. This is more akin to incarcerating me. Is she crying? After all the things she’s said up to this point, she’s crying?
I finally know where we are.
I don’t want to say it; I feel disgusted, but what reason is there not to?
“You and I both want the same thing.”
Disgusting.
“Not death,” I quickly added.
Her body clenched up. It felt good to say something that awful. My mind can only think of one thing.
Nothing.
“Just pretend like I’m not here––and I’ll do the same,” she said timidly.
Her words should hurt.
They don’t.
I only have one choice––I can tell she’s thinking that, too. I don’t have a sense of sorrow anymore, nor do I have a sense of limitation or shame.
I don’t feel anything anymore.
Where am I? What am I anymore? Oh, right, I’m at Heidi’s place. What happened last night? What time is it?
10:47 am.
Oh, it’s morn––right, that’s what happened. Where is she anyway?
This apartment is smaller than I thought, and with the lights on this time, thank you. Not much furniture either. That explains why I didn’t break a leg or something––actually, I’d instead not remember last night. I’ll, at the very least, turn the heater on. Where is it though? Oh, it's a post-it.
Korbin, if you’re reading this, I’ve literally already left.
As opposed to figuratively already left?
I don’t know what either of us turned into.
Hell, I didn’t even know what I was before.
However, I’ve decided to go on a journey, not from the balcony.
You can leave when you’re ready.
I’ve left the––
There’s a backside.
The keys are on the counter, so lock them up for me.
…
Let’s never see each other again.
That’s what I thought. I’ll just grab the keys and see myself out.
I feel like a part of me has died. Why? I’m still aware of my physical presence and can still feel emotion––I think.
“Ka-chunk.”
Why’d I say that out loud?
It’s freezing out here. New York’s gonna go absolute zero if it continues like this.
Oh well.
I’ve got work today.
How did it become so hot after being so cold in January?!
May, eh?
2017 is passing by so fast. SO many exciting events have taken place that they’re hard to count. Things like––um, well, the protests near the end of January were pretty funny. There was also that time where––um…
“Gah! Who am I kidding?! This year is painstakingly slow!”
Whatever. I’ve got nothing to do, and I’ll just visit Dad at Cavalry Cemetery; I haven’t gone since January…
“Hey, Dad. Guess what? I think I’ve finally become something. It took me a couple of months, but I transferred to NYU. I’ve even made some friends in the dorms! We all work a lot, so we rarely have time to hang out, but we occasionally pool our money to do something extraordinary. Of course, it’s almost summer break, so most of them will be moving out, but I’ll still be able to meet with Jeremy. Oh yeah, he’s my manager now, at 26! How cool is that?!
Eh-hem, anyway. Thank you for raising me to be the way I am. I’m sorry you had to leave so soon. Oh! I’m also sad I haven’t come to see you in 5 months! I’ve just been so busy. N-not that you aren’t a priority, I just need to do things to get by, ya know?
Thank you for listening, Dad. Have a good rest for me, okay?”
Now I’m crying? I’ve done this many times before, so why did this time feel so different? I don’t know. I’m not in the mood to think critically, especially since English class starts in an hour––
“What a heartfelt and powerful speech.”
I’ve heard that voice before.
Oh no.
“I wonder where you learned that from.”
The disdain in her voice was all too familiar.
“Heidi, I thought we agreed never to see each other again. What are you doing here anyway?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m visiting my father. Also, I simply told you never to meet with me again. Never in my wildest dreams did I consider that you’d agree!”
“And somehow, I don’t believe you.”
I have to leave before I remember my regrets.
“Goodbye.”
I tried my hardest to sound sophisticated when I said that, but I’m pretty sure I came across as some lunatic wearing an imaginary monocle––
“What’re you up to tonight?”