A Moment in Time

Ten.

“Get in, get in!” Michael hears his friend call out to him. He presses the timer on his phone that is set up on the tripod and makes a beeline to where his group has already settled in their poses as they stand on the golden sand.

He runs over to the side, next to his best friend, William, and puts an arm around him and makes a thumbs-up with his free hand.

“Open the champagne!” His best friend tells their friend, June, in the centre who rushes to open the bottle by the time the camera clicks.

“Hurry!” They all laugh in excitement for their first photo of the new year.

Michael watches in amusement at June, who struggles to open the cork bottle. Her fits of laughter, along with everyone else’s, do not help her case either.

“Okay, okay, I think I got it!” June says in a hurry. “Smile at the camera, smile at the camera!”

Everyone whips their head at the camera and returns to their original poses.

Michael thinks that there’s no better way to end the year.

Nine.

Annie looks down on the ground, as if her shoes are the most interesting thing in the world.

In reality, she cannot bring herself to look up at Eric who she’s had a crush on for months, especially after he made such a request to kiss her when the ball drops on the television.

It took her by surprise, really. She was at the corner of the living room, enjoying a red velvet cupcake on her own, while her friends paired up with their boyfriends or girlfriends. She did not expect anyone to ask her for a midnight’s kiss, let alone, the handsome boy she sits next to during their history classes.

She glances over at him, her head still lowered at the ground, and feels slightly relieved when she sees that he looks nervous as well.

“It’s almost time.” She breaks the silence and tries to suppress her smile from turning into an ear-to-ear grin.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat and hesitantly steps towards her.

Their friends are midway through the countdown, but the chanting, along with the music, muffle out as she locks her blue eyes with his hazel ones. There was a faint red spread across his cheeks and his mouth curved slightly upward. She wonders how he could look more beautiful than he already is.

It’s her turn to step forward, the two of them now being dangerously close, foreheads almost touching.

She closes her eyes and she feels him lean in.

Eight.

Georgie yawns. She rubs her eyes after having fallen asleep on her desk. Her computer is still turned on, showing an unfinished document she has to hand over tomorrow.

She drinks her second cup of coffee in the last hour and resumes typing her report, ignoring the sticky notes on the corner of her screen with plans for the evening crossed out with blue ink.

She glances at the time shown at the corner of the screen. 11:59, it shows, ten more seconds away from the new year, the mark of a new beginning.

Georgie sighs. She knows she could be having fun right now with her friends, perhaps even find a date for New Year’s Eve, but here she is, stuck at home so she can finish a project she has been working on for the whole year. It’s important to her to the point that she calls it her work baby.

She lets out a smile, finding a little humour in her situation.

“Maybe next year.” She mutters under her breath, raising her mug up to nothing in particular and proceeds to take another drink.

Seven.

Henry jumps up and down excitedly between his parents as the whole family counts down as they watch the television and the clock right above it.

This New Year’s Eve is perhaps the best one in his life so far. It’s the first time their family had such a big party, as a lot of relatives from his mother and father’s side were able to travel all the way to New York City to celebrate. His cousins from California, Georgia, and even outside of America, like Switzerland and Singapore, all came with their parents. As an only child, it has been such a surreal experience to meet family members his age who he can treat as younger and older siblings.

He prepares the party popper, and so does the rest of his cousins, as they glance at each other in high spirits.

Six.

Robert notices three ladies wave at him outside of a nightclub, so he parks the cab next to the sidewalk.

“Thank you!” One of the women says brokenly as she almost trips on herself as she enters the cab.

The other two hop in, laughing loosely and their heads drop back to lean on the headrest.

“Where to?” Robert asks.

“To the New Year!” One of them yells, making the other two laugh again.

The one in the middle leans in. “Sutton Place.”

He nods, glancing at his digital clock almost striking midnight, wondering why they didn’t party just for a little bit longer.

Then again, he can ask the same question to himself. He keeps a mental note to at least bring a cake back home to celebrate with his wife and little girl.

Five.

“The stars are brighter on New Year’s Day,” Samantha sings, strumming the strings on her Martin guitar. Stickers of her favourite bands, some new and some worn out, are placed on its soundboard, as a way for her to gather inspiration.

“We walk with hopes and dreams to the melody,”

A man passes by her and drops a dollar note on her guitar case. She smiles and nods to him in gratitude.

In the distance, she hears people counting down. That makes her stop playing momentarily, her heart racing in excitement as she prepares to watch the fireworks that will shoot up to the sky in any moment.

She whispers the countdown, tapping the soundboard on her guitar to the beat of the chant.

Four.

Rachel screams as her hand remains tightly on her husband’s.

“Just a bit more,” The doctor says.

How she wants it to be over already. She has been in labour since the early afternoon, and has been in the delivery room for the past two hours. 

She blinks away the tears from her eyes, which mixes in with her sweat. Her throat is dry from yelling at the top of her lungs for hours. 

Her eyes lock with her husband’s as she breathes in and out heavily. He smiles at her, though his eyebrows are furrowed. He squeezes her hand and lowers himself.

“You’re doing great.” He says softly next to her ear as he caresses her hair with his free hand. “He’s almost here.”

“After this, I don’t want any more kids.” She manages to breathe out with a tense smile.

He laughs gently. Even amidst the pain, she cannot help but think how patient he is of her throughout the pregnancy, especially these last few hours of her screaming and cursing at him with her iron grip on his hand.

“One more push!” The doctor urges.

Rachel shouts again.

Three.

Denzel watches the television propped up on the wall as he lies down on the bed.

His nurse has just left the room, and his children and grandchildren have said goodbye not long after. 

Now, he lies, tranquil, as he watches thousands among thousands of people stand before One Times Square.

He smiles to himself as he recalls a time he visited it with his wife and two children, back when they still couldn’t stand on their own two feet. 

It’s a fleeting feeling, to see how much the two have grown to be wonderful parents themselves. Perhaps he didn’t do such a bad job raising them after all.

His eyelids feel heavy, and so does his body.

“You did a fine job, dear.”

Through his blurry vision, he sees an outline of a familiar face.

“Did I?”

He’s seen that ethereal smile so many times before. He’s seen it when he first met her, when they got married, when their kids were born, and many other moments no matter how big or small. How much he misses it.  

“It’s time to rest. Come with me.”

Two.

Kiran looks at the ball, down to his camera which settles on a tripod. 

It’s his first time visiting New York, and feels lucky that he is able to find a high enough spot to capture a wide view of Times Square with the sea of people crowding around, excited for the ball to finally drop in just a few seconds.

He notices families, tourists, couples, and sole wanderers like him, eyes glued to the dazzling, neon ball glimmering in different colours on top of the One Times Square building.

He breathes out a puff of cold air and tightens his scarf and pulls down his beanie. Snow falls down, which makes Kiran even more excited for the ball to drop. The snowflakes blending in with the confetti, he believes, will make a mesmerizing sight.

Once again, he returns back to his camera and places his finger on the button, ready to snap the photo.

The crowd chants in unison, and Kiran joins along with the crowd, watching their exuberance through the lens.

One.

Click!

A photo is snapped. At the same time, friends on the beach cheer as a bottle of champagne opens. Two naïve teens kiss in a crowded room, finally profess their feelings for one another. A successful adult checks her phone as she receives multiple New Year greetings, then continues her work like any other day. A boisterous family embrace each other at the strike of the clock. A taxi driver drives off with three rather lively women singing different songs. A singer stops performing her song to watch the fireworks shoot up in the sky. A child is finally born. A man has eventually passed. 

All of these events play in ten seconds, and although none of these stories intertwine, a young photographer captures the moment the ball drops at Times Square.

It is the heart of the celebration, the mark of a new year and a new hope.