Chapter 23 - Homecoming

Chapter 23: Homecoming

There were no welcome banners. No dramatic hugs at Changi Airport. No social media captions announcing we’re back!

Just a simple message in the group chat:

Crystal: I’m home. Let’s makan?

And within minutes, the replies rolled in.

Ivan: Finally. I’ve been eating cai fan alone for months.
Isabelle: Do you know how long I’ve been craving the mala from South Spine?
Aleem: Same place, same time?

It was agreed.

A Wednesday night. Sunset warm on their backs. A hawker table in the west that still creaked at the corners.

Four seats.

Four friends.

And Singapore—humid, loud, familiar—wrapped around them like a heartbeat they hadn’t heard in too long.

Everyone Was Working Now

This time, there was no more “final year” or “assignment due tonight” hanging over their heads.

They were all in the workforce now.

Aleem had returned to Singapore just a few months ago, after completing his stint in Penang. He now worked with a regional tech firm, balancing system upgrades with morning stand-ups and a steep learning curve of office politics.

Crystal was freshly settled into her new role in a local social impact consultancy. Her hair was shorter now, her tone more deliberate. But she still used glitter pens in her planner, and still spoke too loudly when she got excited.

Ivan, the most surprising of them all, had accepted a role as a systems analyst with the train network. He now described himself as “a man of steel, wires, and limited social interaction.”

Isabelle had been offered a role at a private tuition centre after graduating, teaching upper secondary Chemistry. The hours were long, the students unpredictable—but she’d never sounded more certain of herself.

They were all back.

Not just physically, but grounded again.

In the same country.

On the same island.

Under the same sky.

The First Real Reunion

Their first dinner was quieter than it used to be.

Not awkward—just… seasoned.

Like old soup with new spices.

They didn’t need to fill every silence with stories. They had learned how to sit beside each other and just be.

They ordered too much food (again). Crystal insisted on chicken rice, Ivan argued for fish soup, Isabelle asked for yong tau foo, and Aleem said nothing but quietly paid the bill at the end, like he always did.

They talked about work—about burnout, bad bosses, Excel sheets that broke before presentations.

They talked about flat hunting, meal prepping, and the hellish mystery of CPF allocations.

They were adults now.

Sort of.

But as Crystal reached over and stole a piece of tofu from Isabelle’s bowl, and Ivan launched into a dramatic retelling of a train line failure that nearly gave him a panic attack, Aleem sat back and smiled.

It wasn’t the same.

It was better.

The Plan

Toward the end of the meal, Crystal raised her drink.

“Okay, new tradition,” she said. “Since we’re all back… Monthly meetups. No excuses.”

Isabelle raised her cup too. “Yes. Even if it’s just coffee and silence.”

Ivan clinked his against theirs. “If anyone ghosts, we hunt you down.”

Aleem lifted his last.

“To the four of us. Still standing. Still here.”

ABIX, now scattered by office hours, train lines, and peak-hour commutes, wasn’t as effortlessly synced as before.

But it didn’t matter.

They were in the same country.

In the same city.

And that was enough.

For now.