Love in the 90s

♫ I can’t forget the glamor, your eyes held a tender light... ♫

(Scene: Seaside Restaurant, a small tourist town in Hong Kong. Mid-summer night, 90s.)

(The atmosphere is serene, carried by a faint ocean breeze. Dim streetlamps cast a soft glow on the nearly empty street, where a few souvenir shops remain open. Most of the restaurant’s customers have departed, leaving behind quiet chatter and the gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore.)

(YOU, a struggling Musician in your late 20s, sit alone at an outdoor table, your saxophone case leaning against the chair. Tonight’s performance was a success, and the restaurant owner, MASTER CHOI, a 55-year-old jazz enthusiast, approaches with a chilled glass of a bright orange drink in hand.)

Master Choi: (in Cantonese) Hey, Pang, try this. A summer special just for you.

You: Thank you, Master. Is this alcohol?

Master Choi: Just a little. Sometimes, you need a touch of it to really appreciate life’s finer things—like music.

(You hesitate for a moment, then take the glass and smile faintly.)

You: Well, since you’ve put it that way, I guess I have to try it.

(You take a sip, nodding in approval.)

You: Not too sweet. Juicy, refreshing. It’s perfect. Thank you, Master.

Master Choi: (raising his bottle of Heineken) To our great saxophonist!

You: (raising your glass) And to the Artist who created this drink.

(Master Choi laughs warmly, the sound hearty and infectious.)

Master Choi: You’re a rare one, Pang—a musician who doesn’t drink or smoke. That’s unusual in this business.

You: I’ve seen too many talented musicians go down that road. I’m not there yet, but when my time comes, I want to be ready.

(Master Choi studies you thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair.)

Master Choi: Hong Kong’s a tough city for musicians, especially jazz. Everyone here’s hooked on pop. Ever thought about going abroad?

You: I have. But I need to prepare first. My English… it’s terrible. Ten years of learning, and I still struggle.

Master Choi: English takes time. But you’re still young.

(The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, listening to the faint sounds of the street. After a moment, Master Choi speaks again.)

Master Choi: Are you seeing anyone, Pang?

You: No. Can’t afford it.

Master Choi: You don’t need to be rich to enjoy a little romance.

You: I’m too shy. The only time I feel confident is when I’m playing the sax. Maybe someday… when I’m in a better place.

Master Choi: Fake it till you make it, son. Don’t let your youth slip away. You’ll regret it later.

(The two of you sit quietly, watching as tourists stroll by. A group of Filipino men and women, fresh from a basketball game, passes by, their laughter and cheer filling the street. Some carry basketballs, while a chubby man grins widely, holding a trophy. Their energy is infectious.)

You: (smiling) Their energy is something else.

Master Choi: They’ve been playing matches by the library every weekend. Filipinos know how to enjoy life—not like us, always weighed down by stress.

You: Maybe we’ve got something to learn from them.

(One of the players nods at you as he passes. You nod back, sharing a quiet moment of connection. The group disappears down the street, and you stand to help Master Choi clear the tables.)

Master Choi: Leave it. You’re a musician, not my waiter.

You: It’s fine, Master. Consider it thanks for the drink.

(As you work, two young Filipino Women in their 20s approach the restaurant, chatting and laughing. One is tall, wearing a basketball jersey and a blue cap, her long black hair framing expressive eyes. The other, shorter and more fashionable, wears a sweater and skirt.)

(The TALL GIRL gestures toward your saxophone case and speaks to Master Choi in English. Master Choi chuckles and gestures toward you.)

Master Choi: (in Cantonese) Hey, Pang! These girls loved your solo tonight. You’ve got fans!

(You stand awkwardly, the Tall Girl smiling warmly. She says something in English, but you can’t quite catch it. Master Choi translates.)

Master Choi: She said your Blue Bossa improvisation was one of the best she’s ever heard.

(Your face warms as you smile shyly.)

You: Please tell her I’m honored. Her words give me strength.

(Master Choi relays the message. The Tall Girl beams.)

Tall Girl: I’m Jenny. Nice to meet you. I heard your saxophone while watching the game. It was amazing! We were all talking about it.

(You muster your courage and respond in broken English.)

You: You like... play basketball?

Jenny: Oh yeah! I used to play a lot back in the Philippines. I was on the university team. Basketball’s in my blood, music too!

(You’re amazed that you understand everything she said. You smile, intrigued by her energy.)

You: What… song… you like? Next time… I play for you.

(Jenny’s eyes light up, impressed by your effort.)

Jenny: Really? I'd love to hear you play Stars Fell on Alabama... and… Someday My Prince Will Come.

You: I love these songs too. Next time you come, I play.

(Jenny thanks you, but her friend tugs at her arm, urging her to leave. She hesitates for a moment, then looks back at you.)

Jenny: We have to catch a bus. See you again?

(You nod, shaking her hand.)

Jenny: Do you remember my name?

You: Genie, right?

(Jenny laughs, correcting you.)

Jenny: It’s Jenny. You remembered! What’s your name, Mr. Saxophonist?

You: I’m Pang. Tonight, I’m happy to meet you.

(As the girls walk off, Jenny turns and forms a heart with her fingers. You wave, watching until they disappear into the night. Master Choi smirks knowingly.)

Master Choi: What do you think of her?

You: The tall one? She’s… different. And pretty. And she likes Stars Fell on Alabama.

(Master Choi hums the tune as he clears the table.)

Master Choi: (singing softly) “I can’t forget the glamor, your eyes held a tender light…”

(You smile, staring into the quiet night, replaying the encounter. For the first time in a long while, something seems to stir within you.)

(Posted on 12.1.2025)

#90sHongKongRomanceStory