โฝ ๐๐๐๐๐
Spoiler Note: most words that are italicized denote that they are being spoken in another language, and are not translated to English. Only Mal's father consistently speaks a different language, so I've just written his dialogue in italicized English
"Why are they making you dress so FOB-y for this video?"
Mal started at the sound of Angie's voice. She turned around, glancing at her friend. "FOB-y?" she echoed, bewildered.
Angie rolled her eyes. "Yeah. FOB*. You know, like rich international kid from China who probably goes to a UC. Jeez, Mal, I was in Korea for five years and I'm still more hip to this stuff than you are."
Mal shot her pink-haired friend a dry look. "I was in Spain for three. And those three years happened to be when I was in college, which is where these international students are from, I presume."
Angie stuck out her tongue. "I didn't even go to college. I win."
"Your cousin is a Lambdas bro," Mal pointed out, but she let it go with a good-natured grin. "So how is this a FOB outfit?"
Angie gave her a critical once-over. "Nike shoes, Adidas sweatpants, Supreme T-shirt, one of those Kanken jackets that looks like a puffy, fur-lined turtleneck...you even have hair to match, though I'd say you need the brownish bleached hair instead of the blonde to get the full effect. Add in a face mask like the ones I wear, and you'll be set. Shouldn't we be, like, offended by this or something? These people are clearly catering to the FOB crowd. Not even FOB, actually. Just straight-up China and South Korea. You look like you come from Chengdu or Shanghai or Seoul or something, not L.A. This is racist. Cultural appropriation!"
"Oh, hush up," Mal replied, rolling her eyes. "If anything, I look like Avril Lavigne. I'm blonde, and eugh-look at all this eyeliner."
Angie's gaze met Mal's in the dressing room mirror. "Nah, the eyeliner's good. Say what you want about Micky or whoever runs the HR stuff here, but they get good make-up people." She shrugged, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "At least the make-up isn't FOB, I guess. I swear, what's up with all Asian girls wearing the same damn shade of lipstick? You know what I'm talking about, right? That cherry pink-ish shade?"
Mal shrugged. "It goes well with black hair and brown eyes. What's wrong with that?"
Her friend let out an exasperated huff. "It means that none of my friends ever have other shades of lipstick I can borrow, that's what's wrong with it."
It was Mal's turn to let out an exasperated, but amused, huff. "Tragic."
Angie's voice was deadpan, though she was grinning at her, fake fangs on full display. "Incredibly." Her gaze flickered downwards to her phone for a moment, before coming back up to meet Mal's. "I'm going to bounce before I get yelled at for distracting you or something. KFT after? Or should we stop by Jessica's instead? Let's do Jessie's place, actually. Michael wanted me to get red bean buns for him."
Mal made a face. "Angie, I don't know. I don't know how long I'll be. You know how it is with music videos."
"Well, I can wait. I'm going to be in the area all day. Text me when you're outta here." And before Mal could utter so much as one word of protest, Angie turned on her sparkly five-inch heel and flounced away.
As Mal had predicted, the music video stuff ran long. She was pretty beat by the time the producers said they were done for the day, but she texted Angie anyway. She could definitely go for some bubble tea and red bean buns. Ooh, and maybe Chipotle, too?
Thirty minutes later, she and Angie were walking down the street, huddling together in the frigid winter air. "I fucking hate the cold," said Angie, her teeth chattering loudly.
"Me, too. I miss California weather."
Angie groaned loudly. "Mal, don't remind me of San Diego winters. They're like spring-time weather here," she protested. "Now I'm even colder."
A short while later, the two of them strode into the Asian bakery and cafe that Angie's friend Jessica worked at, weighed down with the addition of one (1) delicious burrito bowl from Chipotle. As expected, Jessica was standing behind the counter.
"Jessie!" Angie called, waving. Mal nodded a greeting, smiling at Jessica, who had come out from behind the counter once she'd caught sight of them. Her hair was dyed a warm, honey-brown color, and pulled back in a messy bun.
"Hey. What's up?"
Mal took a seat and surveyed the bakery-slash-cafe. It had a really modern aesthetic, all dark wooden floors and polished glass and streamlined edges. It was also empty, save for the three of them-understandable, given that it was a Friday night.
Mal let Angie handle all the talking, too preoccupied with her Chipotle. As she peeled back the aluminum covering and attacked the sofritas and salsa, she heard Angie ask Jessica for red bean buns for her cousin, and the two headed into the back storeroom together.
When they emerged, Angie came out carrying a black box with a cute bow on top-the red bean buns, Mal presumed-as well as tall pink cup, filled with what Mal figured was just milk tea.
"Aren't you lactose intolerant?" Mal asked in between bites of her Chipotle, watching Angie sip the tea through one of those big bubble tea straws.
Angie rolled her eyes. "Have you seen my SAT content at all? Every single thing is about how us lactose intolerant people still drink milk tea, Mal. Seriously. Get hip."
Mal laughed. "Sorry, Angie. I try." She paused, trying to remember what Angie was referring to specifically. "You mean SAT as in subtle Asian traits, right?"
Another eye-roll. "Duh. Speaking of SAT, actually, can you translate this?"
Mal put down her fork and leaned forward, reading off of Angie's phone screen. "Why does BLACKPINK like to read," she said, glancing up at Angie before directing her attention to the screen again, her eyes drifting downwards to the punchline. "Cause they hit you with that-oh! That's funny." Mal grinned, silently re-reading the joke.
"Uh, Mal? Not helpful."
Mal looked up find Angie watching her expectantly. "It says 'cause they hit you with that 'du du du du du'.** Y'know, 'cause ddu-du ddu-du?"
Angie took her phone back and read it again, snorting derisively. "Yes, I know BlackPink's most famous song, Mal. And that was a shitty pun."
"Well, I liked it," said Mal, a mischievous look on her face. "You only say it's shitty because you didn't know the character for du."
Angie made a face. "I already know how to say 'read' in English, Spanish, and Korean. Shouldn't that be enough?" she answered teasingly, swirling her straw in a circle. "Honestly, I don't even know how I survived in Korea for five years. I sound like a valley girl or something when I speak any language that isn't English. What's the Korean equivalent of a valley girl?"
Mal chuckled at the image. Angie, a valley girl? Not likely.
"Well, for what's worth, you don't sound like a valley girl in English," replied Mal, helpfully.
"Gee, thanks. I'm touched."
Mal had just gotten back to her cramped apartment when her phone rang. She checked the caller ID-it was her stepbrother, Miguel-and immediately answered. "Hey, Miguel. What's up?"
"Wendy! Quick, serious question. Can you teach me how to swear in Chinese?"
Mal frowned. "What? Why? Dad can teach you."
"Your dad said he wouldn't. All I know is cao ni ma. I need to add more, yo."
Mal frowned, again. "Why would you need to know?"
"Because there was this guy, you know, comes in and asks for the tofu and bokchoy, and I said aight it'll be a few minutes and he goes 'no, I ordered ahead I'm not waiting', but you know that this fucker didn't do shit, and so he starts going off at me and I yell vete al carajo back at him because I'm not trying to get my ass thrown in jail by cussing him out in a language he can understand, you know? But his buddy calls me a maricรณn and all sorts of shit-real homophobic, that dude-so the only other thing I can do is yell cao ni ma over and over again, which isn't that impressive, right? And it gets Mom on my ass, 'cause she knows what it means. You see my problem here?"***
"Uh?"
Miguel's voice took on a pleading quality. "Please, Wendy? Pretty please with a cherry on top?"
"Just ask Dad, dude. Chinese cuss words are boring anyway. And I'm pretty sure you aren't supposed to swear at customers like that?"
Mal was pretty sure she heard her step-brother whisper shit under his breath, but she couldn't be certain. "Dude, who cares? He fucking started it."
She rolled her eyes. "You're useless."
"Yeah, whatever. Oh, Daniel wants to talk to you. I'm giving him the phone."
A second later, her dad's voice came through the speaker. "Wendy, how's life?" he asked, his Chinese laced with notes of a Nanjing accent. "I bet it's cold up there in New York, huh?"
"Oh, yeah, for sure. Super leng. What's it like in L.A.?"
"Ehhh, it's sixty or seventy degrees right now."
Mal grinned ruefully. "I wish it was like that here."
She and her dad chatted for another few minutes, before Mal glanced at the time. "Hey, I can't be jiang-ing dian hua for too long," she told him. "I have to get up early tomorrow. I'm pai-ing a music video, and I think the they want to finish it up soon."
"No problem, I'll talk to you later then. You're coming home for Chinese New Year, right?"
She smiled. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. Bye, Dad."
It took Mal the good part of an hour to fall asleep. She spent thirty minutes tossing and turning, unable to shut off her mind as she tried to distract herself from what she knew was coming. And when she finally did fall asleep, she dreamed of her. Again.
She's in Palma, on the beach. She knows this beach. It's Marina's favorite spot to do her homework.
No, it was. It was her favorite spot to read and do homework. She's gone, Mal reminds herself, but god, god, it all feels so real.
Mal looks around. The sky is blue, the sun is shining, and the sand is warm beneath her feet. Against her own will, she starts walking.
Where am I going? she wonders, blearily, struggling to make sense of the situation. She is aware, distantly, that she's had this same dream before. Somehow, she knows that she is going to walk until they get to the Serra de Tramuntana, the mountains that she and Marina biked through countless times, and she is going to stand at the top of one of the peaks, overlooking the ocean, and she is going to stop. And she is going to stay there for what feels like hours, staring at the water. And somehow, in some way, she is going to hear Marina's laughter in the waves, she is going to hear Marina's name in the breeze, she is going to see Marina's smile in the sand.
Somehow, she knows all this. And yet she still keeps walking.
This time, though, the dream is different. Mal is on the same rocky overlook, hearing Marina's laughter in the water, when there's something new.
Jump, the sea seems to whisper. I am here, Wendy. I am waiting for you.
Mal jolts awake, gasping for air. She's disoriented for a full minute, squeezing her eyes shut until she can make sense of where she is.
Shaken by the dream, Mal rubs her temples and sits in the silence of her bedroom for a few more minutes, before she reaches for her phone on the bedside table. The screen reads 4:31 AM.
Mal unlocks the phone, scrolling through her notifications. It's mostly just stuff from a week ago that she never cleared...besides a message from Angie.
Intrigued, Mal opens the text to find....to find another meme, with the message 'this is me'. She reads it, snorts in agreement, and taps back a quick 'YES' before setting her phone back down.
This time, when she goes back to sleep, there are no dreams.
*Note: in this context, the word 'FOB' does not imply anything negative
**Original post
***All the non-English words in this paragraph are pretty offensive, so I'll leave it up to you guys if you want to translate them or not
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