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writemekpop · 3 years ago

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(Un)arranged Marriage | Kim Jungwoo

Pairing: Kim Jungwoo x Reader

Summary: You have to stop your best friend Jungwoo from escaping his wedding... But your massive crush on him complicates things.

Genre: Fluff, angst, South Asian Y/N

Word Count: 0.7k

Gif: @xiaojun

Your fingers hover over the pearly white keys of the harmonium. The whole wedding congregation have fallen silent.

The second you start playing, the bride will enter, and the wedding will begin.

But your fingers are frozen.

You should be happy – it’s your sister Pallavi’s wedding to Jungwoo, for god’s sake! Then why does watching them kiss make you feel so hollow inside? You wish that your sister was marrying any other man… just not Jungwoo.

Jungwoo is… enchanting.

He’s like a sunrise: you’ve seen him hundreds of times, but you never stop being dazzled by his brightness. You’ve always been the sibling who “needs to loosen up”. But when you’re with Jungwoo, you find yourself sleeping on the roof of your building under the stars, throwing your shoes into the ripples of the Mahadayi River, running around barefoot under monsoon rains.

You can’t quite pinpoint the moment when Jungwoo’s hand brushing your thigh became the highlight of your day.

No. You blink back to reality. You lost your chance with Jungwoo. He’s been your best friend since you were 5 years old. You’ve had two decades to make Jungwoo yours – and you failed. Anyway, family comes first. Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for the people you love.

You start playing the piece you’d practiced.

Pallavi wafts out, looking radiant in her shimmering red and gold sari.

She’s still walking when you hear something.

It’s the best man, Yuta, running up to the microphone behind the priest’s stand.

“Sorry guys, there’s going to be a slight delay to the wedding.”

Everyone flinches as the microphone screams with static. Then, a moment later, Yuta continues, much faster and quieter, “You have one instruction. Do not let anyone know that Jungwoo is gone!”

The guests erupt into chatter. Yuta’s face turns very red as he realises that the microphone was still on – and everybody now knows that the groom has made a run for it.

You run up to Pallavi, who is now standing at the side of the marquee, next to Yuta.

Pallavi is holding her phone to her ear, her golden kitten heel tapping on the carpet. She turns to you.

“Do you even know how embarrassing this is? The family company’s investors are here!”

You shake your head. “Did you guys fight again?”

Pallavi laughs sarcastically. “Oh, didi, we’re always fighting. Just find that idiot. Now!”

You run to the back of the marquee, to the two-storey ‘wedding building’ containing the banquet hall for the reception meal, the bar and lots of changing rooms for the bride and groom. You feel strangely exhilarated, like you’re a child again, in a crazy Go-Kart race.

You run through the double doors and straight to the marble staircase. You have a gut feeling that you know where Jungwoo is. Whenever he gets in a tough situation, he always wanted to be as close to the sky as possible.

You’re panting by the time you reach the door leading to the roof.

Pushing it open, you scan the space. The sandy concrete roof is empty, with nothing but a few plant pots to the sides and a low wall stopping people from falling off.

At the far end, a man in a very expensive kurta stands with his back to you.

“Jungwoo!” you call.

Jungwoo turns around. He grins at the sight of you.

But you’re not smiling. You shake your head, your body stiff. “What the hell are you playing at? This isn’t a joke, Jungwoo. Do you know how upset Pallavi is?”

Jungwoo shakes his head. You notice that his eyes are a little puffy. Has he been crying? “She’s just worried I’m embarrassing her, that’s all.”

“Go back there and apologise. Heck, go back there and get married!”

Jungwoo sighs, sitting down on the wall edging the roof. He looks gorgeous in his tightly fitted silk kurta. His eyes twinkle under his dense brown curls.

Suddenly, your phone rings, vibrating in your silver side bag. You pull it out. The caller ID says ‘Little sis’.

“Pallavi?” you say, holding the phone to your ear.

“Well? Found him yet?”

You look at Jungwoo. He’s shaking his head furiously, his hands clasped together in a praying action. You don’t know. As a sister, you have a duty to protect Pallavi’s marriage. But for some reason, you never could say no to Jungwoo.

Gulping, you say, “No. No sign of him… yet.”

You snap the phone closed, glaring at Jungwoo.

He pulls off his jacket, and throws that off the building too.

Jungwoo’s voice is low. “I’m thirty years old.”

Standing up, he pulls off his tie with both hands and throws it up, where it catches the wind and swirls off the building.

He smiles faintly, looking at the sky. “Without regret, they fall and scatter… cherry blossoms.”

Finally, he kicks off both of his fancy dress shoes and throws them across the roof. One of them teeters on the side wall, till it finally rests there, just about balancing.

“I’m an unemployed, failed actor, about to marry a woman who can barely stand the sight of me.”

He’s always been so melodramatic. That’s part of his charm. Jungwoo always seems to be acting a role in a great divine play no mere mortal can know about.

You run forward and grab Jungwoo’s shoulders, forcing him to look at you. “Get it together, man! You need to grow up. You have a loving fiancée waiting for you down there.”

Jungwoo strokes your cheek with his hand. You shiver at his touch, an involuntary gasp sucking through your mouth. You get a sudden urge to hold his hand in yours, squeeze it tight.

“And why do you care so much?” Jungwoo asks, smirking.

You feel suddenly hot under his caramel gaze. “B-because she’s my sister.”

Why do you feel like the one in trouble? Jungwoo’s the guy who abandoned his bride, not you!

“Really? Seems kinda like you’re… hiding something.” His face nears yours. “I know you, Y/n. I see the way your jaw stiffens when I kiss your sister. Am I not worthy?”

You snap. Pushing him off you, you shout, “I’m happy for you and Pallavi! How many times?”

“Just because it hurts to see you with Pallavi, that doesn’t mean I’m not happy for you. Just because I wish it was me on that aisle, that doesn’t mean I’m not happy for you. Just because I love you, jungwoo, that doesn’t mean I’m not- happy for you…”

Your voice tapers off as you hear yourself. For the first time, the pain of the man you love marrying someone else flows freely through you. You’re… in love with Jungwoo? All this time, you’d buried your jealousy deep under a layer of affection for Pallavi and family duty.

You’ve always been accused of ‘not being able to talk about your feelings’. But you pushed your feelings for Jungwoo down so deep you even hid them from yourself.

Jungwoo pulls you into a tight hug. You let your tears seep into his shoulder.

“I had no idea you felt that way,” he murmurs.

“Are you… going back to Pallavi?” you ask, your voice tiny.

Pulling back so he can look you in the eye, Jungwoo shakes his head. “I love you, Y/n, but…”

Your heart squeezes.

“I think I… hide in relationships. Look at me! I waited till the wedding day to address the problems in my relationship. But if you’ve taught me one thing, Y/n, it’s that I’m done hiding. I need to face my problems alone, and work out what I really want.”

Jungwoo kisses your hand. “Would you wait for me?”

You nod, smiling through your tears. “I’ve waited two decades. I think a couple months more won’t hurt.”

—

MASTERLIST

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molkolsdal · 4 years ago

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Pakistan's Transgender Community Is Hiding Out in a Hostile City

As Peshawar has come under increasing sway of an extremist view of Islam, its community of transgender hijras has been increasingly marginalized.

By Beenish Ahmed, 16/05/2014 Photos by Abdul Majeed Goraya

"My father used to beat me and ask, 'Why do you have to go around pretending to be a girl?'"

Now at 35, she says her cheeks burn and fists tighten if anyone refers to her as a man.

Khushboo, whose name means fragrance, classifies herself as a hijra, a South Asian gender designation that encompasses transgender and transexual people, as well as transvestites and eunuchs.

She has a different definition for herself and the estimated hundreds of thousands of other hijras across the region. "Our souls are female and our bodies are male," she says, dipping a rag into a red plastic pail filled with a chalky mixture of water and face powder. Surrounded by a group of several other hijras in a room they call their "office," Khushboo smears the dripping rag over her face and adds, "I've known I was a hijra since I was a child."

She used to wear her sisters' clothes. At 16, Khushboo slipped out of the house in one of their outfits and didn't return home for years. Along with another hijra, she settled in Peshawar, a city in northwestern Pakistan one night's drive from the costal city of Karachi where she'd grown up.

Peshawar has long been home to cultural traditions that insist on strict gender segregation, and the city has come under increasing sway of an extremist view of Islam in recent years. These intolerant, conservative beliefs are made brutally clear through the bombings and shootings that are now near-weekly occurrences. Taliban suicide bombers killed 85 worshippers at a church there last September, and militants killed thirteen people at a cinema showing pornographic movies in February. Lesser attacks are momentary blips on local news coverage featuring bloodied streets and blaring sirens.

Khushboo points to battered doors and broken windows around her. She says young men—"college boys" she calls them—wreak havoc on her and fellow hijras who are preparing for a dance performance later that night. Sometimes the men recite scripture and beat the hijras to shame them out of their profession as dancers, and other times they force them to dance or even rape them, she tells me.

Despite the extremism that has only further marred the city since her arrival nearly 20 years ago, Khushboo has an affinity for Peshawar because it's where she had a sort of rebirth as her new self.

Free from the abuse of her father and brothers, as well as the sense of dishonor she felt on behalf of her mother and sisters, Khushboo embraced a new life of openness—and was adopted into a new family.

"In this field we have mothers. We have gurus. We have uncles and aunts," she says, and then points to a girl who's rolling a spliff in the corner of the room. "She's my daughter. I'm a daughter of someone so she has a grandmother too. And," Khushboo adds, "She also has a father."

That last bit comes so quickly that I almost miss it. I inquire further about the girl's "papa" and Khushboo says, "Her father is married to someone else, but he loves me." She then goes on to explain what their relationship entails—and it's all very practical until it gets utterly tragic: "If I'm sick, he comes by and brings me medicine," she says proudly. "If I don't have money he drops some cash off. If I die, it's this man who will dress me up as a man and take my body to his house to carry out the cemetery. He might not explain the full story and just say that I was killed in the market or that there was some kind of shooting, but he's the one who will take care of the funeral."

I can't help but think that this grim possibility is one that Khushboo has discussed with her "husband"—and one that he too has come to terms with.

"In Pakistani society, there is a really strong [sense of] place and family," says Dr. Jamil Ahmad Chitrali, a professor of anthropology. "There is no alternative for anyone."

Based at the University of Peshawar, Chitrali has written about the city's hijra community. He says that by forging the same sorts of familial connections that they left behind, hijras create a social order that mimics the very society from which many of them fled.

"It's forcing all those revolutionary individuals who are against those binaries of man and woman to come into a structure which is reaffirming patriarchy," he says.

Pakistan's hijras have made some strides in recent years despite their rather isolated existence. In 2012, the Pakistani Supreme Court allowed for a "third gender" category to be added to national identity cards, which effectively gave hijras increased legal standing. It's because of this broader recognition that hijras could vote in that year's presidential election—at least five hijras even ran for office.

But the third gender classification has made little practical difference in Khusbhoo's life. "We live in a third world," she says, the difference between her life and that of a cisgender person just as stark as the difference between life in Pakistan, and say, Monaco.

And, she says, no matter what she does, she'll always be seen as different.

"Even if I give up dancing, everyone will still call me a hijra so what's the point? Why not do what I love?" She adds that even if she were to become a traveling evangelist, her family would still regard her with the same disdain. "I'm better off staying a hijra."

And that's the hardest thing that Khushboo has to face: her family. She got back in touch with them after five years of not speaking, and goes to see them in Karachi at least once a year. But when she does, she goes dressed as a man.

Though she moves about as a woman in Peshawar, Khushboo wears a black floor length, full-sleeved robe (or abaya), and a face covering (or niqab) that reveals only her eyes to hide herself from prying eyes. Even so, she's been thrown out of several houses by people who fear hijras will ruin their neighborhood.

While they occupy a marginalized space across Pakistan, hijras are probably worst off in Peshawar. In all of the other major cities in the country, they are frequent sites at traffic intersections or in shopping centers where they offer a prayer for a few rupees. Many passersby fear denying them might mean a curse and so will either oblige quickly or turn away completely.

I've spent a lot of time in Peshawar over the years, and have never seen hijras out in public the way they are in other cities. After speaking with Professor Chitrali, I learned that might be because hijras have a different role in the Pathan society that dominates the Peshawar area. In this part of the country, hijras aren't seen to have some sort of greater spiritual connection than cisgender people—instead, their role is celebratory. They're often asked to sing and dance at weddings and births.

"It's their performance which gives [a family] social recognition," Chitrali says, though the tradition is fading as weddings move from family houses into wedding halls. Some might have other professions—Khushboo says she has hijra friends who are lawyers and pilots and act cisgender in order to maintain their jobs, though they're free to "be themselves" with her and other hijras. Due to a lack of societal acceptance, many hijras live marginalized lives as low-income entertainers, but they've got a bit of a role as educators, too. Hijras sometimes teach—or even initiate—young men into sex. For many in Peshawar who live by strict religious and cultural codes that denounce almost any pre-marital interaction between the sexes as sinful, hijras provide a sort of in-between, or a "cushion," as Chitrali calls it.

"If you cross the domain of manhood into womanhood, that is against the culture, that is crossing your limits. But you can always move into the gray area, so this hijra community, in that sense, in a clear binary of man and woman among Pathans, [forms] a gray area." But he says that this "learning experience" is becoming less common with such how-to's readily available on the internet.

In Peshawar's increasingly religiously-motivated milieu, the presence of hijras—be they dancers or sex workers—is frowned upon and politicians vie for favor by pushing them out of their homes and worksites.

Seeing this, Malik Iqbal says he wanted to do something. "I sympathize with them because no one gives them any space," he tells me.

He rents out the office that Khusboo and her fellow hijras use to prepare for their dances.

"I didn't used to be on their side," Iqbal says. "Now I help them. I say they're humans too. We should have some empathy for that reason. Not just me, everyone should empathize with them as people."

But some believe Iqbal's connection to hijras goes beyond a shared humanity. Though he refuses to speak about it, Iqbal was arrested in 2010 for attempting to marry a hijra called Rani. Such a union would be illegal under Pakistani law, which only recognizes marriages between men and women. He has repeatedly denied the charge and claimed that police were trying to extort money from hijras at an event that wasn't a marriage but an innocent birthday party. Either way, the shock the story garnered reveals just how far removed everyday Pakistanis are from the hijra community. A big-grossing film called Bol, or Speak—released in 2011—may have helped some, but real connections like Iqbal's remain few.

And not everyone in close proximity to hirjas is sympathetic. Noor Illahi, who owns a grain shop down the street from the hijras' office, doesn't have a problem with the hijras themselves or even their work, but thinks they should find some other place to go. "My work has suffered because of them. The other storeowners and I, we think they should be given some place off to the side. It should be separate."

He's worked in his store for 15 years and says that sales have dropped fifty percent since the hijras set up shop next door a few years ago. "There are a lot of fights here now. They create quite a scene sometimes."

The raucousness has driven away his customers. Those who stop in the area are more interested in the hijras than the sacks of flour he has for sale.

"I'm not personally offended by them. But look," he says, pointing to a group of several white shalwar kameez-clad men loitering outside the hijra's building. "These poor people have earned just three or four hundred rupees all day ($3-4) and they'll come here and waste it all on them."

The men are all rickshaw drivers. One by one, they go on the record to deny being there to solicit sex. "We're just here to chit chat with them," one says while peering over his shoulder to see if any of the hijras have come out into the alley. "It's a totally innocent relationship that we have with them."

Back up in the hijras' office, the lights have gone out as a part of the rolling power outages that have frustrated Pakistanis for years. It might be another hour before they're ready to leave for their performance. When they do, they'll be cloaked in massive shawls and under the cover of night.

#long post #Pakistan #lgbtq #ASIA #transgender #hijra #gender #peshawar #beenish ahmed #Abdul Majeed Goraya

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fullsunalicia · 5 years ago

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loved rags and riches!! if you have time, could you also write a chenle version, like a crazy rich asians au or like a chaebol au? thank you!

broken hearts club — ZCL

it’s been a long time since someone has touched zhong chenle’s frozen heart. he’s closed it off to the entire world and dedicated it to his music and the empire that he’s going to inherit. somehow though, there’s a girl with a weakness for puppies who manages to light a match for the ice clump that sits in chenle’s chest.

zhong chenle as astrid leong - kind of. :-) i hope you enjoy love. thank you for requesting. <3

Over the years, the map to Chenle’s heart has been destroyed and burnt. Many have tried to recover it, retrace the steps as they try to remember. Not one person comes close, as the only thing Chenle loves is the music and the puppy he was gifted by his favorite cousin, Renjun.

The people call him a narcissist. His family calls him lost.

He calls himself Zhong Chenle. Nothing more, nothing less. He likes sitting together with his band mates and share several bottles of soju. Whenever soneone speaks chinese with him, it sounds like music to his ears. In Korea, far from home, the only chance he gets to use his mother tongue is with Renjun, and Chenle likes it like that. He couldn’t be further away from home, and all the pain that household has brought him.

Some would kill to be in his place. The only heir to a billion dollar sum, and even richer on his own. A famous musician who’s climbing the charts and breaking records everyday. Yet money has always been a curse to Chenle. It gave him heartbreak, distrust and emotional distance to everyone who’s ever been close to him. Chenle’s heart has frozen over, as cold as the arctic, the ice prince of the Zhong family. That’s what his parents have always wanted, anyways - his ex girlfriend out of their eyes, so that they could marry Chenle off to God knows who. When she had cheated on him, they have waited for Chenle with open arms to come back home, just to stab him in the back themselves.

A beggar. That’s what his mother had called Suyin, the only woman he’s ever loved.

Choi Suyin had carved out his heart and locked it in a chest, far away for anyone ever to reach. Like Davy Jones, only that Chenle has never betrayed. He was Calypso, heartbroken and full of fury, bound to his bones. Doomed to roam the world forever, without feeling anything. Detached from reality. It felt like Chenle was standing inside of a glass house, with no way to escape, only ever being able to look out. He recognizes the sorrow and the pain that’s coming to come crashing in someday and wreck him. But there is no way to ever set him free again and honestly, he isn’t even sure if he ever wants to. Love has ruined him; it has ruined his perception of people and of himself. Suyin had wanted him to make her a princess.

He can’t make her something she is not.

The whispers follow Chenle down the hall whenever he is home, though that’s a rare occasion. Fool, they murmur. A blind man. Almost robbed. If he could, he’d smash the glass of his cage and use it to wildly stab around, willing to hurt anyone who gets in the way. He wants them to feel, to suffer what he endures all day and night, a never ending nightmare. The torture of the shining jewelry, sent to him by his mother, serving as a silent reminder of what is waiting for him when the family forces Chenle’s hand and makes him return.

The ghoulish wedding that awaits him. Chenle counts the days, prays that he finds the key to the locker he never wants to see again. Dread fills him at the mere prospect of romance, but he’d rather be in pain for another thousand years instead of being married off like some worthless thing. Like his career never meant something, only some ploy of entertainment, never serious to his parents. It’s all about business, never pleasure, never happiness. To think about the company is more important than to think about your mental health. If that turns you into a psychopath, you’ll just have to make a business idea out of it and see where it gets you.

Therapy to the Zhongs is alcohol, and income. That was the very first lesson to be learnt. It’s deeply ingrained into his soul, and no matter how much time Chenle wastes at his attempts, he cannot wipe it away. Even for music, his first and true love, his mind goes to the sales first instead of the talent the song can pull out of him. Will his voice attract buyers? How should he dress to seduce the crowd? It’s all just a show, and all the roles are casted by him. What a show it is, though.

From the distance, it looks perfect. No stage fright, only elegance. The closer you get, the more you realize it’s a circus. Chenle is the biggest clown you’ll ever set eyes on.

The road to his heart is harsh and frozen. Maybe the damage is too great that anyone will ever be able to walk upon it again. But you’re willing to take the chance.

Chenle looks down as you pet the little Samoyed behind his ear, big smile on your lips. Honest; unusually so. He’s too used to choking on the sugar that keeps dripping from peoples’ lies. And here you are, jumping from stone to stone on the way to his heart, like you’re crossing some river. And you haven’t even looked at him yet.

“This dog is absolutely beautiful,” you hum, the happiness in your voice thrumming inside his head. Pleasing to listen to. “So beautiful, aren’t you? Of course you are. Pretty baby...”

You’ve taken the words out of Chenle’s mouth, but they weren’t exactly for Chan. If he was another man, he’d tell them to you. Because he isn’t, he’d rather choke on them than speak them aloud.

“He really is.” Finally, you look up. Your eyes are as pure as your mouth, see-through, easy to trust. It makes alarms ring in the ice prince’s head, and he’s pulling up the bridges to the castle in panic. He doesn’t know how you managed to do that with one look, and he honestly doesn’t want to know.

He can’t afford to find out. He can’t. Chenle is still reeling from the wound Suyin has inflicted him, running as deep as the ocean, straight through his heart. A cruel metaphor for cupid’s arrow. Still, you make Chenle want to pull it out and offer it to you. Curious whether you’d drive it back in, or break it and set him free.

The hope blooming inside his chest makes him wish for the latter.

Your beauty is already alluring just the way it is, but when your lips curve into a soft smile, you break all the viewers’ hearts in the loveliest way. It’s brighter than any jewel Chenle’s ever set eyes on, and he has already seen enough to last him a lifetime. Sick of them, actually. For you, he’d be willing to try and search for one that matches your radiance. “Love dogs too much to resist,” you admit. “I apologize for caressing the pretty boy out of the blue, but I’ve never been able to turn away from puppy dog eyes.”

“Me, too.” Chenle sinks into a squatting position so you’re both on eye level. It physically hurts to watch you blush. It hurts because he can imagine being the old Chenle who’d ask you on a date right here and there. Careless, without any worry in the world, he would take your hand and offer you the world like he had with Suyin. Because money is a burden, but it only became a curse the moment Suyin had conquered him just to enrichen herself. Become a Zhong, a legend. Have it all and spend it all. She never understood that love is more powerful than any money’s worth in the entire world. “Though that makes me a bad dog owner, doesn’t it? It gets kinda hard to be strict with him when he looks at me in such an adorable way. My baby..”

Chan presses his fuzzy head to Chenle’s palm. The only one in this world who’d ever love him just for being him. Chenle smiles and scratches the back of his baby’s ear, pleased with the rumble Chan lets out at that. Both dog and owner know the other like the back of their hand. You watch the wholesome interaction, the kindness in your eyes makes Chenle soft.

Right now, you’re knocking at the doors to his heart, begging to be let in like in The Princess and the Pea. He forces himself to turn away.

He’s a masochist, but this is too much for even Zhong Chenle.

“Never had a dog again after mine passed away when I was sixteen.” Your voice is a little bit distant now, hollow. Detached. Your heart has been broken in a different way than his has, but the pain is very similar. Chenle recognizes himself in the way you wrap your arms around your own frame, as if you’re trying to hold yourself together. To force the broken pieces to stay in place. He wants to tell you that you’re never going to be able to do that alone, but he’s too much of a coward who doesn’t trust anyone in the world. Not anymore. “Hurt too much. Felt like a betrayal. I still love dogs more than anyone else, but I think I’m just not ready to adopt another one. At least not in the near future.”

Chenle agrees, though you’re talking about two seperate things. He needs to quit love, like an addict checking himself into rehab. It’s a must, not a neccesity. Though it makes him sick to the stomach, he forces himself to stick to the company procedure. Business before pleasure. Business before anything.

❀ ❀ ❀

Love has never hurt you before. Never have you brushed hands with death and decay the way Chenle has, but you see it in his eyes. The passing ghost of a lover who once was. Where should be warmth is steel, the protective shell of a man who wants nothing to do with the world.

But how stunning that man is. Of course, your entire attention had been on the dog first, but when you locked eyes with Chenle - what an experience! The taste of heaven in one look. Sharp features, as dangerous as knives. Unruly dark hair, the color of the sky at midnight, colder than any breeze that’s ever shaken you up. You don’t believe in love at first sight, not in destiny.

Still, you came so close to it. You saw where the universe breathed life into Chenle. The shaping of dying stars and the brightest burning suns. He’s both Pandora’s box and the golden fleece in one. All you had managed to coax out of him was his name, and of course the one of the dog who you spent ten minutes playing with. You’ve not known about Zhong Chenle before, but you certainly do now.

The only son of his prestigious family. World renowned musician, the critics call his voice that of an angel. Of course he is an angel. Have they seen him? Instagram spits out more information than you’d expected to receive, but here you are, reading an article about his ex girlfriend.

Definitely not creepy or anything.

It’s certainly a explanation. The illness-ridden soul of a man so young, he is still clinging to adolescence. Grief is a terrible disease. You weirdly feel like you’ve stepped into a room where people had been arguing, and now the awkward silence is weighing heavy on you. You’d desperately like to walk out, but something keeps you there like an invisible anchor. The lure of someone as gorgeous as Zhong Chenle, with the promise of secrets as sacred as religious scrolls.

You wonder if you would be going too far if you followed the guy on Instagram. That face is too pretty to miss out on. But there’s also your curiousity that keeps drawing you in, makes your mind wonder and wander off to the countless possibilities of who Chenle is who he is. You need satisfaction to bring you back, or you’ll just stay a dead, curious cat.

One that definitely drops her phone on her own face when she sees that the mentioned more-angel-than-man has followed her back. The man has two point three million followers, for Christ’s sake! There would be no way for him to randomly pick you out from the countless names that fill up his notifications, right? Wrong.

There’s a private message waiting for you as you accept his following request.

[07:27pm] @zhcl: i see you found the pictures of chan already.

The tabloids speak of zero interest towards any other person that’s not family or bandmate. So why, pray tell, does Chenle indulge you?

You grasp the opportunity, anyways. You want to find out what lies behind the ice, waiting to be discovered.

[07:33pm] @yn: i was quite distracted by the handsome fellow that photographed him, though.

[07:34pm] @zhcl: very smooth, miss (y/n). were you blushing when you typed that?

[07:34pm] @zhcl: you look too cute to be taken serious when you do.

[07:35pm] @yn: flirting, are we?

You felt the chill when Chenle had spoken to you. The hidden danger behind a calm voice. Still waters which hide deadly sirens. You know now that he was hurt, terribly so, and it made you feel guilty about your interest in him. The world had treated him badly and here you were, acting like it was nothing. You clutch your phone, ready to be heavily told off and the follow to be retracted.

Your heart almost stops when your phone vibrates, the ring tone suddenly much too loud.

[07:39pm] @zhcl: is it working?

❀ ❀ ❀

Chenle’s mother never changes.

When he enters the house, several servants swarm him to help with shoes and jacket, but he passes them all. The hall is cold, freezingly so, unusual for his mother who seems to fuel the open fire with wads of cash. This is the house he’s grown up in, too big for the warmth of love and affection to be felt inside it. The family members too far away from each other to even interact, like stars in the nightsky. Related, but never touching, never in contact. When they do, it detonates a violent supernova, and that never ends good.

Chenle still remembers the smashed glasses at the end of the family event, thrown against the wall by a Huang cousin who’s name Chenle would rather choke on than ever speak again. A Huang, but not of Renjun’s siblings. A bastard, that’s what he is. He, who usurped his father’s power and wastes all his money on sex, alcohol and entertainment. It’s a blessing this guy will never inherit the family business, though he pities Renjun for having to do it. Just as much as he pities himself.

When Suyin had left, the people had started gossiping. Spreading rumors, spreading hope. The ice prince is on the market again, ready to be courted, to fall victim to a woman’s temptation. His parents had spent eternity dragging Suyin’s name through the mud, because she was just an ordinary girl. Not rich, not poor. She works the graveyard shift at a diner and sometimes helps out in her dad’s restaurant for some extra cash. Fashion enthusiast. Homewrecker. The poor girl that was left at the altar because of Suyin - he’s seen the engagement ring on her finger, and he knows what it means to that particular Huang.

Absolutely nothing. The means to an end. A way to keep some more money because of taxes that are shared as an married couple.

To Chenle’s parents, Suyin could have very well been living under a bridge. His mother wishes to wed him with a princess, royal born, not made. Merge companies with people she trusts and strip ressources of. Birds of a feather. Truly, the marriage of the century. Too bad that Chenle only marries out of love. Too bad that’s the thing he’s sworn off for the rest of his life.

His mind punishes him instantly for that lie, your face flashing infront of his inner eye.

Sweet (y/n). It’s a little embarrassing how quick he jumps at his phone at any sign that you could’ve responded, and it scares him to no end. You scare him, with your good intentions and charming smile. When you had agreed to meet each other again, Chenle had let himself be dragged to a café of your choosing. There’s still the lingering taste of coffee cake on it.

Your kiss still burns on his cheek. Never forgotten for a second. A constant reminder.

As clear as day, the memory plays out in his mind. You had looked up to him while he tasted your pastry of recommendation, head lost in the clouds. You’re always thinking about something. You have the same look in your eyes as the one in Renjun’s when he searches for words that can’t be put in the same context as Suyin.

“You know who I am.”

You had stealen his fork and scooped up your own share of the cake. That was rather cheeky of you, paying for the dessert even though Chenle was already getting his wallet out. You’re stubborn. “I’ve heard of you,” you had told him. After listening to so many untruths all of his life, even your honesty starts to hurt in his ears. It makes him uneasy. “But that doesn’t mean I know you. I would like to. Will you let me?”

Not once had you looked scared when Chenle’s hands had turned into fists, the veins on them becoming prominent. The sight of a tortured man who’s trying to keep it together. A face that’s mapped out with sorrow and anger and betrayal. “I could hurt you. I’m afraid there isn’t much left to get to know. I’ve thrown it all away. Did you hear of that?”

You had started cutting the cake in pieces, long lashes caressing your skin as you look down. The wish to touch you had hit him so strongly, it almost shocked him. Chenle leant forward and accepted the fork in his mouth while watching you intently, finding pure satisfaction in the way roses bloom in your cheeks because of it. Eye contact makes you shy. To you, it’s sensual. You lowered your gaze. “I did.” The fork scraped against his teeth. You took another bite on your own and this time, your eyes never left his. “But I enjoy a good treasure hunt here and there. You look precious, Zhong Chenle. I’d like to look for the pieces with your permission.”

Chenle was so certain his heart was dead, its’ last beat defeaned by the wood it was kept in. Despite that, he had felt the jolt as it spurred back to life, making Chenle believe it returned to him, and the fear that comes along with it.

You’re dangerous, like playing with fire. You instilled the desire to be burned inside an ice prince, and that is too much power for one person to possess. So why does he make no effort to stop you?

“Chenle.” The voice sounds too polite for a mother. She descends the stairs, expression neutral, the walk of a queen. In another life, she’d certainly be one. “Qin ai de. You finally came. I was getting rather tired of calling your phone the past few months. Where have you been?”

Avoiding you, he wants to say. Running away from this castle that’s too vacant and lacks the love to be called a proper home. This is a prison, and you’re the warden dragging me in with chains.

But he doesn’t. Chenle slips into the good son role and lets himself be hugged, even though the embrace is void of any warmth. “Busy,” he responds. “I’m a working man, mom. Singing is a career, you know, despite how much you’d like to ignore it. There must be a reason you supported it so much in my childhood days.”

“That’s exactly the reason, son.” His mother begins climbing the stairs again, an unspoken order for him to follow. Chenle suppresses a sigh and begins climbing, too. It’s only noon, but he already feels drop-dead-tired. “Because it was your childhood. I didn’t expect you to turn your back on an empire to play the singing fool for some teenage girls. I suppose that has its’ benefits, but it’s also rather sad to only see my son in the news and not in person. This is your home, Chenle. We’re not going to crown you emperor the second you step back into this threshold. You’ll take over the company when you want to, even though we’d welcome an early decision.”

Bile rises in his throat before Chenle can stop it. Venom, it’s all venom, and you’re the cure. He only has to get through this. Just a day, and then he gets to see you again. “Sure, mom,” he manages to answer. “I’ll think about it.”

“I didn’t expect you to visit. We have company, you know. They’re both quite lovely, though you’ll like the daughter more.”

This is the reason Chenle refuses to be inside this house for even a second. The looming threat of an arranged marriage. No one’s going to force him to take over the company, but his mother would rather take a bullet than ever allow a Suyin ever again. Even if she looks and talks like an angel that goes by the name (y/n).

The entire time, Chenle is silent. He doesn’t even try to acknowledge the fact that his mother is a terrible wingwoman, and a good way to pass the time is to imagine your face, retrace it in his memories. You, insisting to pay, because it’s “your treat”. You, who never steers the conversation somewhere he doesn’t want it to go. The strawberry blush that makes him want to kiss you until you’re breathless.

You’re a threat, (l/n) (y/n). The closer you get to Davy Jones’ keys, the more he wants to push you away and never see you again. At the same time, Chenle wants to go on his knees and beg you to set him free of this locker.

Nothing could have stopped him from taking the next plane home. His bandmates pick him up, but he’ would have liked it to be you. What he doesn’t like is the look in Renjun’s eyes, the man who is Chenle’s kindred spirit. Renjun knows too much. He saw too much. A shared childhood is both blessing and bother.

“Tell me about (y/n).”

“Absolutely not,” Chenle shoots back without hesitation. “See you, Renjun.” With a quick swing, he tries to force the door closed, but his childhood friend wedges a foot between wood and wall and lets himself in.

“Very reactive to that name, aren’t we, Chenle?” Renjun hums and drops on the couch. He accepts the whiskey Chenle hands him, but cusses the second the younger’s hand meets the back of his head. “You do that again and I’ll strangle you, Zhong, friends or not. Now tell me about the damn woman already.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Because you’re a coward.”

“Yes, I fucking am.” Chenle doesn’t usually curse, but talking about you is a weakness. He doesn’t love Suyin anymore, absolutely not. The years have passed and changed him, whether that’s good or bad. But not his wounds, not the injury done to his precious, ice-cold heart. He’s so afraid of being used, tossed aside like an old toy you don’t want to play with anymore. With just a few actions, you’ll be able to tear Chenle down and ruin him forever. He’s barely stitching himself up from Suyin’s attack and now here you are, pleading to be let in. The desire to allow that is immense, so enourmous it makes him lightheaded.

He won’t survive another girl. Not with this kind of life, with his circumstances, with his upbringing. Love him most or not at all. That is all Chenle can offer you, and maybe that’s unfair. But being just has never helped him with anything, and it certainly hasn’t stopped Choi Suyin from ramming her high heels into the shattered pieces of his broken heart as she walked away.

Renjun watches him over the rim of his glass. Silent, but not in the way where he has to think about not wounding Chenle with his words. Just ... confused. Right now, Renjun is offering advice, not shelter. “Chenle, give yourself a break. You’re human. You’re bound to fall in love someday.”

“Not if I can stop it.”

“You’re not a robot,” Renjun hisses, suddenly volatile, and the loud slam of his glass hitting the mahogany table makes Chenle flinch. Not what he had expected. “I’ve watched you rot for years now, and it has done nothing good for you. I am trying to help you, Chenle, trying to save you from drowning, but you’re thrashing around like a mad man. If you continue like this, you’ll sink yourself to the bottom of the river. Do you want to end up like that? Do you?”

The younger man rubs his eyes, tired. It’s been so long, so unbelievably long since hollowness hasn’t ruled over Zhong Chenle. His parents would never approve of you. It’s going to spike another family war.

Quite frankly, he doesn’t give a fuck.

After a few minutes of some peace and quiet, Chenle finally stands up. He rounds the table separating him and Renjun and bows down to hug him, the suprise evident in Renjun’s eyes when he leans back. “You’re a good friend, Jun,” Chenle tells him. His chest feels light. Maybe it knows that the familiar weight of his heart is returning to it. “A true friend. Thank you.”

He leaves his childhood friend on the couch, his mind already far away, in a place where he can put the keys into your hands without fear. Without hesitation.

They belong to you.

❀ ❀ ❀

“See something you like, Zhong?”

Caught in the act, Chenle looks up and meets your eyes. It would be rather disrespectful to comment on your thighs right now, but if the circumstances were different, if you were already his, he’d tell you all about how good they’d look around his waist. Nonetheless, he only shrugs. “That’s a pretty skirt. Shame I’m going to ruin it by throwing you into the sea.”

“Dont you dare!” Your threat is far from being taken seriously, but Chenle is only teasing you, anyways. You’re light on his arms, more doll than human, and he likes the feeling of you clinging to him for safety. It’s weird - warmth and feeling returning to him. It has been winter inside Zhong Chenle for eternity, and now that he’s pushed open the gates, he feels like he stepped into another realm.

Your skin is warm below his touch. If you dislike his arms wrapped around the back of your thighs, you’re certainly not complaining. The walk to the beach is quiet, except for the squeaks and laughs you let out when he intentionally stops and pretends to fall. “You’re impossible,” you mumble when he sets you down on the picnic blankets.

Excuse you? You’re the one who looks like they just fell down from heaven.

“Is there any reason you decided to kidnap me? Because I didn’t get to see Chan one last time, and that is utmost treason. I demand to see my lawyer.”

“You can see him later.” Chenle tugs you closer. Can you feel his heartbeat below your hands on his chest? The sound is so foreign. Since he accepted the fact that you’re a weakness he can’t ignore, he’s been experiencing arrhythmia non-stop. His heart is just not supposed to be there. An ice prince shouldn’t be able to be melted.

He’d really like to see someone who would withstand you, though. You are heaven and hell, in the shape of a mere human, light as a feather in his arms. There are not many in this world who can claim to have Zhong Chenle wrapped around their little finger. Truth be told, only one person has been able to say that. Now, you’ve snatched away the reigning title, and you’ve deemed Chenle’s lap to be an appropiate throne.

Never would he have assumed that you’d do it on your own accords, but Chenle isn’t complaining. He almost purrs when you straddle his lap, soft skirt pooling around your legs. He screws his eyes shut and tries not to think about the lack of clothes between you two.

Scratch that, you’re a devil. And you are fully aware. The giggle you let fall from your lips doesn’t really sound innocent. He wishes to shut you shut you up with a kiss. What he would give to be in a private room right now.. A dark corner... “What’s so funny, (y/n)?” Chenle mumbles before his thoughts can drift further.

“Just how easy you are to fluster.” You laugh again, not even hiding it this time. The wind breezes through your hair, messing up the curls in his place. Are they as soft as they look like? Chenle wants to find out.

“You mean like you are?” He kisses your cheek as you turn red below his lips. This is what love should have felt like. Freedom and carelessness, not the constant need to look over your shoulder. As easy as breathing. As calm as the sea. The keys to his heart are falling from Chenle’s grip, and he’s not sure he even wants to pick them up.

It’s so easy to let go when he looks into your eyes and sees his future.

“Chenle,” you whisper. His shirt crumples in your grip, but he doesn’t care. Chenle lets himself be tugged closer, his own heartbeat jumping erratically, still unused to being out of the box. The ice floes are melting. You’re breaking him free. When his lips finally meet yours, he forgets all about the years he wasted on irrational sorrow. There should be regret about how he’s denied himself of emotions and the world, but you wash it away with all the hope you’re giving him while your lips move against his. You taste like an antidote.

His parents will never accept you. They’ll have Chenle’s head on a plate and deliver it to a family of their own choosing, one they deem perfect as their in-laws, but he counts on you to fight them back, just like how you’re fighting your way into his heart. You didn’t need the map, you wrote your own. You didn’t need a fire, you used your soul.

The key turns in its’ lock. It’s a perfect fit, just like you.

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qabumble899 · 4 years ago

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“Honestly, it is gross,” she said. “It is really gross to go onto these websites and see, ‘5'6” green eyes, this is how much I charge,’”

KOB 4 called a person who listed their number on the website. She offered her services and rates, which she described as a donation.

Sex trafficking is a problem widely known in Albuquerque.

“That's the thing that we really need to start to focus on-- prostitute means sex trafficking victim and sex trafficking victim means prostitute,” Barber said. “They’re not anything different.”

Albuquerque Police Department Commander Mizel Garcia said investigating sex trafficking businesses isn’t easy.

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APD said it’s aware of websites like the one KOB 4 discovered. However, they don’t have the ability to take them down.

However, officials believe they are making strides in fighting sex trafficking.

“We've had a lot more cases where the women are willing to help and we're seeing a lot more calls to the hotline in our state, a lot more cases in general,” Barber said.

One website user reached out to KOB 4 and said he believes the website does more good than harm.

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He claims the website creates a community. An easy outlet for law enforcement, a way to keep people—in his mind—safe. He also believes prostitution and human trafficking are very different.

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To learn more about what the Attorney General is doing to stop human trafficking, click here.

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patheticwithanem · 4 years ago

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2020 in Retrospect

Hey friend,

I know it’s late, but I HAVE TO DO THIS. I kind of promised myself I’m writing about the year that was. I’m not exactly sure why; maybe it’s to put things in perspective going in to 2021? And today’s my fourth year anniversary with my employer, so I guess it’s perfect timing? (More on that later)

So I was going through my notes (I have this habit of writing down what happens on a daily basis - be it activities, emotions, drama, name it) and one thing’s for sure. 2020 SUCKED. It did. But I’m committing to this no matter what!

First things first: lots of profanities along the way. Well actually, I was about halfway writing the letter when fucking Tumblr decided to refresh and delete what I’ve been writing for about one fucking hour now. So I have to fucking do it all over again. If this is the Lord telling me to stop being sentimental about 2020, fret not my Lord! I’m one stubborn son of a bitch, so I’m carrying on.

Here’s how the rest of the year unfolded. 2020. Let’s go.

JANUARY. Reunions?

January 1. Had a get-together with a few relatives in Malabon. It was fun! I used to be so allergic to family reunions but I guess age creeping in changes you? You value people even more now? This was also the last time we’re able to spend some time with my uncle from Singapore. He brought his family to spend the holidays here. He’s a sweetheart and a great father who’s missed.

January 9. I attended a college dormmate’s wedding. I remember contemplating whether to go or not only to realize I’m actually lucky to be even invited given the fact that I chose to be distant for them for a long while. I also told myself that not showing up is so far from what I’m trying to be. Although I wasn’t there for the whole thing, I’m glad I did come. I was able to bond with my roommates once again whom I treated like brothers ten years ago and that was nice. A not-so-close dormmate even introduced me to his boyfriend and that’s huuuuge. The bride was beautiful too, and I’m glad she’s in the best place right now after all she’s been through. She’s a strong one, that girl.

January 11. Got invited to a birthday pool party of a colleague at work. I have to say I’m actually quite surprised I was invited to this. She’s always had my back though and always kind of looked after me, so I had to go. It was fun but I didn’t get drunk AT ALL.

January 12. AND THIS IS WHERE SHIT STARTED HAPPENING. The Taal Volcano erupted. It was awful especially for everyone living near the area because everything was covered with ash. It was also a day before my brother’s birthday and we thought the ashfall would be worse the next day so we decided to celebrate earlier.

January 19. Went to a fiesta. Did not expect to survive that at all. It was a different kind of neighborhood, but the people were nice.

January 25. Went to a public market with co-workers to buy clothes, eat chicken wings for dinner and then our regular fix of karaoke. Good times.

Anything else? I was able to book a birthday trip to Yogyakarta, which I eventually canceled because of youknowwhat. Tragic.

February. Blindside!

February 7. Blindside’s a bitch. Yes, that’s what I had written on my notes. I legitimately felt blindsided. So story: I have a friend who I found out was pregnant (let’s call her Ms. Preggy, sorry) and me and her bestfriend (let’s call him Work Son because he was my work son in a lot of ways) decided to hold an intervention for her. The four of us including a friend I’m going to call The-Now-Bestie (kind of a spoiler) whom I had a misunderstanding and was not in speaking terms with will be coming to Work Son’s place. Essentially, the goal was to make Ms. Preggy open up about her pregnancy and her issues with the douchebag father; make her feel that she has us and she doesn’t need to be alone in this. I think it went well, in that regard. However, the whole thing was awkward in epic proportions. It’s as if me and The-Now-Bestie didn’t want to acknowledge each other’s existence, and when we didn’t have a choice, we were sarcastic to each other. I also really felt like an outsider among the four that time; like I wasn’t supposed to be there and wasn’t really contributing to anything. It was a really lonely feeling. I decided to distance myself to them after that.

February 13. WINNERS AT WAR PREMIERE! Words can’t even express how excited I was to see some of my heroes again on screen! Parvati with that “phoenix rising from the ashes” confessional? Damn, girl! Still a fucking legend! It was also nostalgic Yul working his godfather magic once again. I’ve always seen him as a top-tier winner and someone I looked up to for what he represented to the Asian community and the history of Survivor. It was also nice seeing Kim, Tyson, Tony, Sophie, Natalie and Sandra. But I must say I kind of missed Todd. He was my favorite winner and was a great storyteller, a great strategist and a great character with an amazing comeback story. He would’ve been perfect for a season with this caliber of players. And as much as I hate Jeff Probst for shoving him down our throats, I wanted to see Cochran play with these winners! Caramoan’s my first season (a late superfan, yes) and he’s the very reason I got so hooked with the show. I used to think it’s a game where people like me never win. So to see someone like Cochran who’s awkward in every sense of the word (and owning it) win Survivor, it is very inspiring. I like speaking in metaphors and it’s funny how much metaphorical Survivor can be to how I see life now. I see Cochran and if he can win in Survivor, I feel like I can win in life, as silly as that sounds. Cochran sucked his first season, but he then went on to play this dominant game his second try while still managing to be the adorkable underdog that he is. I love that story. Man, I get so worked up when I talk about Survivor! I wish I had that same passion with anything else.

February 19. Mom slipped and had to be rushed to the nearest ER. Good thing there were no fractures and she was fine. I guess we can thank the fats for that? LOL

February 21 ‘til 23. WEEKEND STAYCATION! I needed this! Drinking at the hotel taproom with a live band? YES! Indian for lunch and surf-and-turf buffet for dinner? YES YES YES! That lamb chops, MY LORD. Thank you.

February 29. Leap Day. I started journaling again.

March. FUCKING COVID.

March 16. The Start of the Lockdown we all come to love now (punk, sarcasm).

March 17. Politics is so taboo to discuss especially over dinner. But then BAM. I had a major fight with my dad (and by major, I mean MAJOR in a get-out-of-the-house-in-the-middle-of-the-pandemic kind of major). It was basically about a comment he made that’s so misogynistic (towards the Vice President) that I just knew I can’t just let go. It was sooo bad I got all pissed, and when I’m pissed, I can get scary. Maybe it’s the voice or the eyes or both, but the fight got really heated on the verge of getting physical. Which now that I think about it is stupid just because of fucking different political views. Well, I can never get behind the President and they’re huge fans of him and I’ve come to terms with that but it’s just... bleh. I’m not even gonna try to rationalize it because I can’t. It’s just.. disgusting. Oh fucking well.

April. Wander-fucking-lust.

April 1. I started a 30-day Financial Detox which basically meant no unnecessary expenses. No online shopping, no paying for leisure. None. It was April Fools, but I was dead-set on saving! (Spoiler alert: I failed.)

April 6. Meltdown. I just really couldn’t hold it in anymore.

April 11. Dad’s birthday. After not talking for over a month (which is no easy feat in a tiny condominium unit), we acknowledged each other’s presence. By April 15, it’s like nothing happened anymore. He even gave me a home haircut (which for a beginner, is pretty good). On other news, I started watching The Politician on Netflix and t’was the day I started obsessing on Ben Platt and his music.

April 16. A year ago, I was enjoying sidewalk pho and almost making friends at Cu Chi Tunnels and the Saigon Skydeck of the Bitexco Financial Tower in Ho Chi Minh. Damn, covid.

April 18. That crazy border-crossing from Saigon to Phnom Penh a year ago. That was fulfilling. Damn, covid.

April 19. A year ago, I was experiencing sunrise at Angkor Wat. Wander-fucking-lust UGH.

April 30. That Town Hall shoutout from our company’s President because of reaching my quota from last month. That really felt good. As much as I hate to admit it, I like being validated from time to time. It definitely meant a lot especially coming from her who took a chance on me. I was patting my back.

MAY. Endure. Let Go.

May 14. KING TONY WON. Very well-deserved win. A disappointment of a season if you ask me, but props to the king for dominating an all-winners season. Respect for that. Also Natalie and Michele played great games as well and they should be very proud of themselves. I feel like a proud father to these winners HAHAHA!

May 16. Was pleasantly surprised with Dead to Me. That car scene between Jen and Judy on that ninth episode from the second season? Damn. That’s one of the few moments I teared up because of a TV show. That was powerful. All that tension building up and then that sudden release? I really felt that.

May 26. Why do I always feel all this fucking rage inside of me? I try to think of any triggers but I can’t seem to find one that’s actually reasonable. It’s like the isolation getting the best of me. I initially thought quarantine’s going to be a cakewalk for an introvert like myself, but it wasn’t the case. I feel like I’m losing my shit because I was stripped off of the usual things I have access to whenever I feel uneasy and anxious and angry like this. Endure, let go, I know. But it’s so much easier said than done, right?

JUNE. Breathe.

June 12. So the plan to sell the condo and find a new place is real. We went to this great place in Valenzuela and it was a great house and all but I felt weird. Maybe I was having trouble letting go? Maybe it’s just me being averse to change yet again?

June 15. Slept 6am for that How To Get Away With Murder series finale. That speech. VIOLA. Chills all over my body.

June 18. New phone was delivered. That was fast.

June 27. First time visiting the village we moved to. We were checking a different house this time and was already picturing us living there. Still felt weird, but maybe less.

Looking at it now, I realize almost nothing happened in this stretch of months. Pathetic.

JULY. Change (that’s not necessarily good lol)

July 3. The Anti-Terrorism Bill signed. FUCK THE CIRCUS THAT IS THE PHILIPPINE GOVERNMENT.

July 10. Doomsday. The ABS-CBN renewal disapproved. FUCK THE CIRCUS THAT IS THE PHILIPPINE GOVERNMENT. Also, that first house we checked was bought this day. First heartbreak.

July 22. Decided to donate to one of my elementary teachers to help finance school supplies for his students in the province. That felt good.

July 24. folklore’s goooood. This is the Taylor Swift sound that I love. (I had to write that down because that was a 2020 highlight to be honest)

AUGUST. Getting older. Again.

August 2. Donated to another cause: to help a really close friend’s mom (who’s a school principal) on financing their students’ lesson modules (they needed more paper so the donation was going to be used to buy more paper). That felt good.

August 3. Started obsessing on Dear Evan Hansen. I mean come on. HOW COME I ONLY KNEW OF THIS NOW?!?! The story, the acting, the soundtrack... it felt like I asked the Lord for a musical for me and he gave this on a silver platter.

August 9. Lasagna, baked sushi, lechon belly, pansit, cake. Weird combination, I know, but that’s me!

August 11. Discovered the Slowly app. Changed my life since then! I’m not even exaggerating. I guess it has to do with feeling extremely lonely amid the pandemic and getting this platform where you can talk to literally anyone while still keeping your anonymity. And it strips you off of instant gratification you’re so used to because you actually have to wait for your letters to be sent and to arrive. A great exercise for patience if you ask me! And since you have to wait, you make your letters longer and more worthwhile. It’s a platform free of judgment which relies heavily on building actual mental and emotional connections. It’s a gift, truly. NOT EXAGGERATING; YES I��M THAT LONELY.

August 23. The house search continued. This time, the South!

August 24. It was my first time watching a Korean drama and I gotta say I get the hype now. Korea makes great stories and they take their time when telling these stories. The story centering about mental health was definitely what got me to try watching It’s Okay to Not Be Okay, but the show’s so much more than that. That was a great watch.

SEPTEMBER. Finally some light?

September 1. Second year anniversary. I still really miss her.

September 5. My cat’s 5th birthday! Of course we had to celebrate for her with baked macaroni and burnt cheesecake.

September 11. Lost uncle. He gave a good fight.

September 19. SENSE8. It’s a show that doesn’t need any explaining. It’s the BEST. I love this cast SO MUCH. I remember thinking if I ever get a tattoo (which is unlikely), I’ll maybe have the title of that Sense8 series finale inked on me. AMOR VINCIT OMNIA. Love conquers all.

September 27. After a series of unfortunate events, we were led to this house on the same village we keep going back to, and the moment we saw it, we were sold. This is going to be our house. And it happened.

OCTOBER. Surprises?

October 6. Hooked up with someone I probably shouldn’t.

October 12. Booked a trip for next year because I’M HOPEFUL AS FUCK.

October 21. Had the best conversation I had in a long time.

October 22. Hooked up with someone I probably shouldn’t.

October 28. Organized a digital event for work. I’m still on the fence whether I’m proud of it or not. It was my first event, and I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. While I enjoyed all the preparation that came with it, from making that tactical marketing plan to coordinating with the organizers and my team, I felt like it was bland. There were lapses here and there and I know that we all tried the best we could, but maybe I just pictured it a little better in my mind? It wasn’t a flawless event and maybe I wanted it to be flawless. But it was fun. I never would’ve imagined me hosting an event, but I did.

NOVEMBER. Decisions.

November 14. So news came and we’re finally moving. The buyer of the condo got approved and it was only a matter of weeks to settle documents and payment and we’re good to go. I had mixed feelings about it. It took me back to that time we started looking for houses. I wasn’t exactly ready to let go of the place I grew with for the past five years. And I wasn’t also ready to let go of the convenience, and the relationships I only have started building with friends I found along the way. But at that moment I knew I had to be happy because they were happy. My family was happy. I knew I have to be happy.

November 21. Started all the packing. Packing meant decluttering and reminiscing, so letting go of more things which was overwhelming at first, but inevitable.

November 23. I had something checked in the hospital, and something happened and it wasn’t supposed to go that way but it did and it was so fucking bizarre lol

November 28. HAPPY MOVING DAY. It’s that day of the year. Stress was off the charts because of the time constraint and frankly, the lack of preparedness. Good thing a few people helped us with the rest of the packing. It was an impossible task for me and my sister alone so we were glad we got all the help we needed. I did most of the heavy lifting, so I had bruises all over my body for weeks, but after all was said and done, it felt surreal. Felt like everything coming full circle. That first night in the new home? I’ll never forget that. That was special.

December. The end of an era.

December 2. I went back to the condo to stay for a few more days. Get to feel the place one last time. Also lost a huge deal at work to a competitor. I usually really get depressed with these losses, but for some reason I felt indifferent about it. I guess it was my mind telling me I’ve mentally checked out of work already? That maybe it is really time to move on to something that’ll make me care about what I do again? Make me feel again?

December 4. Met someone (who we can call the Professor) I’ve been talking to for a while now. We’ve had some really great conversations leading to this night; talks at 3AM that’s kind of liberating? I was upfront about the moving and that I only have a few days left in the place which is probably why it happened. Professor was also upfront about leaving the country in a few months for an opportunity to work and do research in Japan for five fucking years. It was awkward at first; but we eventually warmed up to each other and spent the night together.

December 5. Things escalated pretty quickly. The Professor gave me a shower (that was weird but I was feeling it and I thought it was sweet and sexy?). We cuddled until we slept and there was breakfast prepared when I woke up. I don’t usually get to experience this kind of stuff so I really appreciated that. I was feeling it. I thought I can get used to this! I left the place and was invited back again so I stayed over for another night. We’ve had a few more interesting conversations. I was not expecting some of the things we discussed especially the talk about long-distance relationships. The Professor asked me what I think about it and I was honest; I’m not against it but it’s not something I’ll take a chance on if I wasn’t sure about it. Mantra’s always been connection first before commitment. I’m not the “take a leap of faith” kind-of guy; I needed to be sure. Or at the very least be really mentally and emotionally connected with the person. I thought that made perfect sense. I still do.

December 6. So it was finally goodbye. Me and my sister went to the nearest church to donate a few clothes and shoes and to attend a mass. Bid farewell to the Professor too and promised each other to keep in touch. I also had an awkward encounter with my sister’s “friend” who she sneaked in the condo for God knows what for. Pretty sure they did the nasty.

December 13. We went to our old house (the one I spent my younger years in) to get a few stuff for the new house. I only really wanted to get my old bicycle because I want to be biking regularly for the next year. I want to take that fitness journey seriously! So I got the bike and I got to spend some time with some childhood friends. Good stuff.

December 15. A teammate resigned at work. The funny thing is he did it after getting that 13th month bonus HAHAHA! I can’t blame him though after learning about the salary he gets when he’s performing three functions in the team. That’s insane. But it really made me wonder: am I still in this for the long haul? Or do I move on too?

December 17. So I had my work desk and wardrobe delivered. Felt so nice buying things for my room!

December 19. We got a new dog! Another French Bulldog. He’s pretty sweet. Someone’s not happy! (MY MOM)

December 22. And then this happened. We were supposed to meet after my dentist appointment (which I only used as an excuse to meet and I thought that was obvious) but the Professor never showed up. I waited for FIVE FREAKIN HOURS. I had like clothes with me because we agreed I sleepover but FUCK. Good thing a friend kept me company, but that was horrible. I thought YOU NEVER DO THAT TO ANYONE. I deserve better.

December 24. We had our house blessed. It was all super spontaneous; we invited a few friends and relatives over and had an intimate gathering. Mom got emotional (AGAIN).

December 27. So Ms. Preggy (from February - oooh that rhymed) had her son baptized. Since she lives a little father from the city, we decided to have a little staycation with some friends there too. The-Now-Bestie and Work Son was there, and we had beer and homecooked food and a slew of great conversations to cap off the year.

Also December 27. I knew I needed to get something off my chest. And I just had to say it.

“You’re so unfair. You shouldn’t have done that. Gave me false hopes. Gave me a “3-day trial period” only to disappear without any warning. Made promises you never intended to keep. You could’ve just told me you’re not interested anymore and I would’ve been fine with that but instead, you ghosted me. For the past few weeks since that weekend, it never seemed like you wanted to get to know me better. Or even just keep the communication going. It’s been one-sided and I wonder: has it always been this way? Maybe I’m remembering things differently. I told you I like you and I meant that. I’m still wrapping around my head why and how it happened to be honest. Maybe it’s that weekend? Maybe it’s the conversations leading up to when we first met? I don’t know. But things changed after that and I should ask you for an explanation but it’s really not the point. The point is I thought we can work something out and you hurt me. You may feel like you’re running out of time because of Japan but it’s no excuse to do that to anyone, really. You seem so sure about what you want so I hope you get whatever that is. Merry Christmas. Thanks for the memories.”

That was intense.

December 28. The Professor responded. “I apologize... I am getting attached... I had to “ponder on its implications to me in the long run”... I decided to slow down... It hurts... “That weekend that we met felt like I knew you before”... I am afraid... “You have no idea how hard it is to leave everything behind every 4-5 fucking years not because I wanted it but because I have to”... I still hope to continue whatever we have... “I will always remember you. Please don’t forget about me.”... YADA YADA YADA.

I know. You know me. I try to empathize as much as possible. But I mean, come on. These are things I already know. It’s not what I needed to hear.

December 31. I needed to say something one last time. There’s already a lot of uncertainties in the world with COVID and life and everything else. I knew I needed answers; I want the binary. I want the black or white for this one. I’m not taking the gray with me next year. So I asked the following questions:

“What do you want from me? Do you want to be friends? Or we stick with occasional catching up on Viber every once in a while (because that’s what it sounds like to me)?”

“What do you want to get from your last two months here? What are you looking for? Just make the most “fun’? Or look for something that will stick?”

“Have you told me anything you really didn’t mean?”

“That one time we talked about long-distance, were you asking me?”

Fast forward to now: I never got the answer I needed. I guess this is one of those rare occasions where no answer is the answer. And after a few weeks of contemplating about it, I am leaving it behind in 2020.

I’m actually at peace with that.

So there you have it. The suck-fest that is 2020. The first month of the new year wasn’t so bad. I feel this great energy. This year’s going to be different. I did tell you that this letter’s perfect timing. That’s because I’ve resigned and I’m moving on. A friend told me a while ago that he’s proud of me for finally taking action. The 2018 version of myself wouldn’t have done what I did and he was happy for me. I wanted a clean slate and I took it. That I was finally taking ownership of my life.

I was elated. My friend usually spoils me with compliments and encouragement and my ever reliable negative self-image tend to disagree with him but for the first time in a very long time, it felt right. I’m not usually excited for New Years, but I guess I am?

I say bring it on, 2021.

Until then,

Patheticwithanem

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galaxy-charm · 5 years ago

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Writer’s Month 2019 Day 26′s Prompt: Wedding

A/N: I didn’t really like the film Crazy Rich Asians, but the wedding scene hit me in the feels, so naturally, I’m going to do a Destiel!AU on it. Hope you guys like it! :D

—

Dean met Castiel’s gaze from across the aisle, lips lifted to resemble a small smile. Standing by Sam’s side, the groomsmen had his hands in front of him, ready to welcome his brother’s new bride.

And Castiel can’t help but stare back, at Dean’s beautiful, apple-green irises, suddenly drawn into their vibrant shades. Unwillingly, he stops himself, smiling a little and looking away. This isn’t his wedding, after all. When he gathers the courage to turn back, he sees Dean shaking his head ever so slightly, mouthing in confusion. What?

But he doesn’t get a chance to reply, for the musicians have already started their wedding ballad, the soft, light tune floating and submerging in the carefree air.

Wise men say

Only fools rush in.

Up on the platform, Sam releases a breath, clearly nervous, but Dean catches his brother’s eyes and gives him an encouraging nod. It takes a second for Sam to process this, but he nods in return, acknowledging a silent thanks. Down by the row, Mary Winchester witnesses their brotherly affection, and beams with pride at the boys she’s raised.

And today, she would get to see Sam married.

Shall I stay?

Three little children come bumbling down the aisle, chatting among themselves as they hold baskets of flower petals. Knowing of Dean’s fondness of children, Castiel turns to him. He predicted right, for there’s a bright smile on Dean’s face, silently laughing at how adorable his relatives were.

Would it be a sin

Dean steps down from the platform, a twinkle in his eyes. He greets the children with high-fives, and they press their tiny hands to his. As Castiel watches, he feels love unfurling in his chest, blooming in his heart. He hadn’t chose wrong in loving Dean, because the man was simply an angel in disguise.

If I can’t help falling in love with you?

The crowd hushes. There on the aisle, water spills over, flooding, eroding. Their gentle current pushes the flowers abandoned by the children, and the petals float, swept along by the waves of ocean.

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea,

The guests gasp in surprise at such a tranquil sight, standing and pointing. Undisturbed, the water flows down the aisle, until it bounces slightly to a stop by the platform.

Darling so it goes

Some things are meant to be.

On cue, the halls dim. The guests sitting on both sides of the aisle rise, with a prop in their hands. It resembles a stick, though it bends and waves with the movements, and the ends are lighted up by a single, glowing, green light. In the dark, they look like fireflies.

Slowly, the curtains part, and Jess steps through them.

She is meticulously dressed in a pearl-white gown, tight around her slim waist, but the fabric flares out into full volumes of folds and floor-length skirt. Her flowy, long blond hair suits her well, framing her sharp chin and cascading past her shoulders. A bouquet of flowers rests delicately in her hands, and her veil is fanned back behind her face like a silvery shadow.

Surely, Sam was a really lucky man.

So take my hand,

Holding on to her father, Jess lifts up a shimmering, star-studded boot, and takes a careful step into the ankle-deep water. Up on the aisle, Sam eyes are filled with tears, a gleam in the darkened light.

Take my whole life too.

Castiel dares a glance towards Dean, only to find that this whole time, Dean was distractedly gazing at him, too. Their eyes lock, and Dean mouth-whispers in the heart trending moment. I love you.

For I can’t help

Falling in love with you.

And for a while, the wedding has faded away. Now, it’s just Castiel and Dean, two lovers so far apart, and yet so near. The tears well up in his eyes and Castiel smiles a little too much, looking back at Dean and mouthing. I love you too.

Oh, and I can’t help

Between them, there is a quiet promise. It isn’t spoken out loud, but still they feel it in the deepest reaches of their hearts, twisting, touching, promising.

Falling in love with you.

Castiel turns to watch Sam press a grateful kiss to Jess’s lips, and the crowd bursts into congratulatory applause and wolf whistles.

Someday, Castiel hopes, this would be them.

—

Taglist (please let me know if you wish to be added/removed 😃): @hellfire37, @skittles-rainbow-cat, @legendary-destiel, @kiraawrites, @all-or-nothing-baby, @thesereneseason, @berrieseveryday

#destiel #supernatural #my writing #writersmonth2019

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uneautreanneeaparis · 6 years ago

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Dijon (pas de Moutarde!)

Our trip to Dijon was lovely. The weather cooperated and we had 3 days of sunny weather in the 70s. Unlike Julie and Bob’s train trip, ours was uneventful and quick. When we arrived around 1 PM we stored our bag near the train station and went off in search of lunch. We had forgotten that in the countryside, even in the larger cities, everything food related closes between 2 and 7. We resorted to a fast food place called Foodies and got burgers. They turned out to be excellent.

We then headed to the Musee de la Vie Bourguignonne which really excited me. I love seeing how life was in the past. We think this might be the weirdest museum we’ve ever been to. There were life-size dioramas of Burgundy life from the 19th century. The first one is of a contraption they put babies in so the mother could get her household work done! The second one is of a wedding.

They were full of detail and accompanied by explanations but the mannequins were eerily contemporary looking. Still, it was a window into a time period long gone by.

Our second day we spent at the Musée des Beaux Arts. It was under renovation the last time we were here so this was a much expanded museum. BTW, most of the museums in Dijon are free, which really encourages people to go, and they do. One of my 2 favorite paintings of all time is here—Fête Champêtre à la Cour de Bourgogne—because, unlike most of the paintings of that era which depict religious themes, it shows something of the life of the 14th century, albeit of the 1%!!

It portrays a party in the court of the Duke of Burgundy (he is the one leaning against the table in the middle). The museum added a digital display table that highlights all the different sections of the painting telling in detail what is going on.

After searching for the best dinner option we ended up at the same restaurant we had dinner at for our previous visit, Le Bistrot des Halles. Fanny arrived with her Italian beau, Alessandro.

Once again, the meal was excellent. Richard had the eponymous Beouf Bourgogne, Alessandro got Steak Tartare and Fanny and I got Gambas Snackée with Asian vegetables and a citronelle foam.

The shrimp were very tasty, cooked perfectly and the vegetables were in a slightly asian sauce which was divine. Everything was very reasonably priced and we were able to enjoy the beautiful weather as we dined on the terrace. If you are ever in Dijon, I recommend you make it to this restaurant for dinner.

We left late Saturday after hitting the mall where there is a Primark. Snagged a new blouse. We spent that last hours together at a wonderful outdoor cafe with great happy hour prices and delicious snacks.

We needed to have a little something for the train ride back so this was perfect. We all strolled to the station in the wonderful evening light and left with an invitation to Fanny and Alessandro to come and visit us in the US soon.—SH

#paris

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deliciouskoalaphantom · 2 years ago

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Wedding Photographerswolverha

Top Ten Tips For Planning A Wedding

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If you are preparing to have your wedding event throughout the summer season, think about having a winter associated style. If you desire a fancy wedding event cake, purchase a small one for just the wedding event celebration and buy a large sheet cake for the rest of the guests. Your guests will still enjoy it just as much as your smaller wedding event cake. Make sure to keep this article in mind before and throughout the wedding event, to make sure you do everything expected of you.

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dynatom · 4 years ago

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Essential Aspects Of Restaurants With Banquet Halls Near Me

The Holiday Villa Function Center is situated on the island of Koh Lanta in the Thai province of Krabi. It's a function centre near the lake that offers a serene and peaceful setting for a variety of special occasions and activities. The system is architecturally built and provides a range of party venues that are appropriate for both private and business activities.You may find more details about this at restaurants with banquet halls near me.

Wedding ceremonies, business gatherings such as meetings and conventions, graduation parties, family activities, incentive classes, and other private events and functions such as anniversaries and birthdays may all be organised at the activity centre. It also features a broad variety of delectable food facilities, including suitable menus for all times and events, such as meals, luncheons, lunch boxes, buffets, and so on.

They have the most appropriate and convenient event venues for wedding parties. This function rooms will host both small and big wedding parties. They will handle anywhere from 40 to 200 people at once. They have wedding services such as a bridal chamber, a bride's fitting room, guest toilets, and other amenities. Floor designs, wedding manuals, wedding photography, wedding videography, accommodation rooms for wedding parties, and wedding managers are examples of wedding facilities.

Corporate meetings should be held in suitable purpose venues. Corporate activities such as lectures, dinners, and conventions are ideal for these party spaces. This event spaces can host both small and large groups. Half-day workshops, full-day conferences, two-day seminars, tea sessions, graduation luncheons, meals, graduation ceremonies, balls, anniversaries, birthdays, and commitment parties are also possible in the location rooms.

Food is available for both meetings and functions at the function centre. Vegetarian, brunch, tea, bush tucker barbecue, working lunch, bush tucker plated menus, Asian barbecue lunch, cocktail parties, banquet luncheons, plated three-course meals, and buffet dinners are all choices for party dining.

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memorylang · 5 years ago

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New Me, Stateside for New Year’s | #20 | January 2020

When I landed back in Mongolia, many asked me either, “How was America?” or “How was China?” I saw both, anyway. So in this travel trio finale, I reflect on the changes I’d noticed in and around me during my three weeks on vacation from Mongolia.

During my reverse culture shock in the States, I logged my findings. Some were physical, like my increased tolerances (resilience?). Others were perceptions. Food, friends and family are my themes~

Landing in the States

“Welcome back, sir,” smiled the U.S. immigration officer at SFO, when said I’m a Peace Corps Volunteer.

That felt different.

Usually immigration gives me trouble, not credit.

But I also felt more comfortable on the plane and in the airport, too, not needing to worry whether my shoes’ bottoms faced others. When travelers’ feet rubbed mine, they didn’t need to shake my hand. Those made life easier. Nonetheless, I felt odd seeing Americans nonchalantly have their shoes’ bottoms face people.

The House in Vegas

Returning to my family’s house that December 19 before Christmas, it felt more spacious than I remembered. Even our restrooms just felt larger than I recalled. Having our cooling fall from our ceiling, instead of heating from radiators below the windows surprised me, too.

Writing of the house, I also sleep way better in the beds at home. Amusingly, I slept in my older brother’s old bed, since, for the past four plus years, he’s slept in my old bed. My younger brother had moved into his old bed while I was away for university. (It’s complicated.) Based on the States, I felt, I could think up ways to make my bed in Mongolia more comfortable…

As I explained to friends in the States, I’d also experienced dreams including friends from both in my Peace Corps service and in my Nevada lives before. I noted, in the past, I would keep in touch with American friends while going abroad. This time, I would keep in touch with Mongolian friends while visiting the States. Those blending communities felt profound, since I loved when life’s separate experiences crossed. I hope I continue such habits beyond my service.

Before my half-brother and his wife left after Christmas, they commended me, I seem more confident and calmer since graduating university. We discussed at length some cross-culture techniques, regarding how I seek and engage motivations when I teach and learn.

On the Advent of Christmas, I’d returned through my closet for childhood things I’ve finally grown willing to part with. I gifted these to them, for their baby. When I returned to Mongolia, they shared with me a photo of him adoring his new toy. Hehe, what a life.

So Much Food

To end my first full day back at the house, I stayed true to my word from Mongolia. I just went to the fridge and freezer, grabbed a bunch of berries and banana, plunked them in a blender with pineapple(?) ice cream and milk, (plus peas,) then downed that awesome shake while I worked on my writings. Ugh, shakes.

I definitely satisfied my major cravings stateside. While I love Mongolian food, I’d forgotten the States’ food diversity! I enjoyed at least American (including Hawaiian), Chinese, Japanese, Filipino and Thai goodness. Vegas has lots of Asian cuisine.

I hadn’t realized how much a half-Chinese American like me could miss pizza, burgers and bagels, but heck, I found that out, too. I ate pizza at plenty opportunities, amounting to at least a time or two per week. Freezer pizzas tasted rad. Even those staling discount blueberry bagels from Smith’s were great.

And, oh dang, microwaves! Not having to heat my food on a pan felt the best, haha. I’m such a tourist in our own house.

Into Our Community

Leading up to my return, I announced to friends I’d be back. Get-togethers arranged.

Sunday, we left home to see family friends. The constant Christmas music on the radio and Christmas lights on neighborhoods’ homes welcomed me. I even welcomed hearing car radios! I hadn’t heard as many radios in Mongolia, since I avoided taxis my first months. Buses just played downloaded music videos, if anything.

Outdoors in Vegas, I realized I could take the cool way better! I wore one or two layers when locals wear two or three.

At sushi, we enjoyed a welcome back lunch celebrating the returns of a family friend and me. I loved the fraternal bonds and companionship. Curiously, a family friend offered me a beer, which I finished myself. I felt surprised, considering I could hardly do that before leaving America. I guess Mongolian events like Teachers’ Day gave me practice. Later, at my high school Korean friend’s house, he offered me to try his favorite bourbons. Even those, I realized, tasted pretty good. Seems my drink palate’s changed. But I prefer not to invest that route.

Fireside Philosophies

That night with three from our high school alma mater, we lounged around a backyard fire pit with s’mores. Having had freshman classes with these guys, we’ve known each other almost a decade.

I felt particularly moved in an albeit geeky way, moments earlier, when we first reunited inside. He’s finishing his last semester at West Point. With a hand on my shoulder, he compared me to Ash Ketchum, traveling the world and making so many friends. “Someday, you’re going to be Hokage,” he smiled.

He’s fun. He reached out during my first autumn in Mongolia, after some four years apart.

Our party of four discussed our passions, dreams and goals. We’d all traveled afar for our studies and careers. We talked big ideas like cross-cultural evangelization, shared Asian and Christian philosophies and the flooring ethical codes and punishments of West Point. Turns out isolation isn’t just something Peace Corps Volunteers experience!

Vegas Since Christmas

Days later, after Christmas, I reunited with more friends.

First, I saw a game developer, who also graduated my high school, who saw me before I left for Peace Corps. Then I met up with my photographer Korean friend who married before I left for Peace Corps and has done well. He prefers non-K-Pop Korean music. He let me know our high school friend from freshman year who left to study in the Philippines just returned to America. We hadn’t seen him since 2012. I felt so excited, we drove to see him. What an experience. I picked up a huge Thai tea with boba and Hawaiian burger, too. Now that’s Vegas.

Then I met one of my best friends, a fellow world-traveled one, who’s also preparing his graduate application. We also met a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer, who served in Bangladesh till civil unrest evacuated them. I’ll cover our coffee shop/bookstore conversations in an upcoming story. Another friend, too, a Catholic I met at university, wandered a mall with me before her own first study abroad. I felt so happy for her.

In there, I noticed what my older brother and his girlfriend meant, about Americans not walking up escalators (lifts), even wide ones. When I got back to Beijing, I saw people did as I remembered, standing on the right side to wait or stepping up the left to go quicker. I felt glad I wasn’t crazy. Though, it made me wish Americans didn’t desire such large personal spaces in public places… We must share.

Last Rides in Reno

Back to Reno! My final day there, morning after the wedding, I donned my Mongolian traditional shirt and reunited with my journalism school and the Honors Program at the University of Nevada, Reno. I reunited, too, that weekend with my fraternity brothers and friends. We talked big ideas, and I imparted notions sculpted by my months in Mongolia. Yet I felt so comfortable seated in the cars, taking walks and lounging between professors’ offices in the city I called home four years.

Many related my youngest sister’s been doing well in her sophomore year at my alma mater. Church-wise, she’s even going through the Rites of Christian Initiation for Adults and dating her sponsor, who was my Knights of Columbus successor. (There’s a great coincidence from RCIA 2016 I may touch on someday.) The morning choir loves Sister dearly, though, even as they’ve missed my days, months and years among them. They’re family. Curiously, I even heard my dad’s been attending morning Masses there when he takes jobs in Northern Nevada. I’m glad he hears our remarkable pastor.

My sister and I actually had a falling-out the day I left our college town last May. So I’d written and sent her a formal apology while flying through Kyrgyzstan to Mongolia. Though we made amends over the seven months, I’m glad she’s had the good year I’d hoped for. Though my legacy hasn’t left its halls, I’ve wanted for her her own story. Even our youngest brother means to attend the Honors Program, its new director told me. Ultimately, my sister and I said goodbyes first this time, for she had to leave before my last day in the States.

That noon, still December 31, I also got lunch with my World Youth Day 2019 family. So fitting to end the year where we started it—together. I related the feeling of living the faith in the First Evangelism. They spoke words with such Spirit, I felt touched. They’ve really had my back this year. They kept in touch regularly since I came to Mongolia. I’ve needed that.

I spent the rest of my day slipping around campus, musing down memory lane and delivering gifts of шагай \shagai\ ankle bones I’d also given many for Christmas. I loved sharing Mongolian culture through my gifts. Mongolians wishing me over Facebook, “Merry Christmas,” on New Year’s Day, reminded me, as a Catholic, Christmas and New Year’s really do overlap.

There are so many more in Reno-Sparks I wish I could have seen again.

Northern Nevada’s New Year’s Eve

As evening neared, Dad picked me up from the University to take me near Lake Tahoe, where we would share dinner with the Catholic Regent and her Mongolian daughter-in-law, who first readied me for Peace Corps mere weeks before I went. Dad’s so social. Maybe someday I could match his way with making himself comfortable in a room of unfamiliar peers. Discussions of mining in Nevada and the Gobi Desert set in stone for me how similar my undergrad and current communities feel sometimes. Seriously.

Dad drove me back into town so I could ring in the new year with my newlywed friends. We experienced a multi-faith night hosted in the Reno Buddhist Center. Since I couldn’t find them, I sat in back. I spotted the University photographer who took my portraits at my senior year’s beginning and end, for having done well with my University scholarships and later becoming Senior Scholar of my school. She smiled at me with that familiar twinkle in her eyes.

I enjoyed a joke our kindly cathedral rector made, that evening, about Catholics coming late and leaving early. I hadn’t heard humor like that in Mongolia. He smiled with such affection when he saw me. Later than evening, as the fireworks came up, I approached the front. A woman had me and a classical singing boy join her beating the Taiko drum! What a moment.

The newlyweds joined me afterward, joyful to have spotted me down there. They introduced me to a Native American, an imam and other religious leaders who attended the wedding. They complimented my cantoring. I felt shocked they remembered. Then we took a big photo. We shared the most loving hugs.

Then, the couple and I went outside. Like our times passed, we exchanged goodbyes before my next big trip around the world. Then I got back in the car with Dad. After returning to Mongolia, I’d place throughout my apartment faith filled keepsakes from that beautiful wedding.

The New Year

New Year’s Day, I rode with Dad to Fallon, from where we left to Vegas after rest and a continental breakfast. Seeing his suitcases and the coolers in the hotel room before we loaded the car, I recollected years of road trips with my father and family. I still felt surprised how selflessly he’d driven me around New Year’s Eve, when I wanted to get places. I’d miss these road trips with my dad.

As I stared out the window, seeing the faraway mountains and thinking of that Thanksgiving car ride in Mongolia, I felt grateful to still have Dad well and healthy, after Mom. He still listened to dad rock. I liked that. We’d be home soon.

Through car rides like these, I finished one more big thing in the States. Across my weeks, I blazed through “Pokémon Moon.” This achievement was colossal, since I played in Mandarin Chinese and only touched the game once or twice annually for the three years since my sophomore year at university.

But ultimately, I left it behind in the States. I’m in Mongolia, a world of adventure. That’s my 2020 theme: Exploration. A game would surely distract if I brought it.

Leaving America (Again)

The last friend I saw before leaving Vegas and the U.S. again was also my last friend I saw before leaving for Mongolia the first time.

She seriously helped me pack in May, when I was a mess. This time, we ate out at a restaurant chain I’d seen only during my years in Reno-Sparks. We spoke for hours. Our reunions since college often wind up as these late nights. Though we relate about the voids left since our parents passed, we’ve known each other so long before. I’ve loved we can talk without retelling backstory. She’s one of those friends who’s so real, she knows me better than I do sometimes!

Anyway, seems I grew another way since Mongolia. This time in Vegas, I finished my packing myself.

Before the crack of dawn, I hugged my other siblings bye, before Dad zoomed me across the city for my flight away. That shiny Raiders stadium will probably be done the next time I’m back.

Return to My City

I experienced an amazing time with relatives and friends back in China on my return trip from the States to Mongolia.

January 8, back in Mongolia, I took an overnight sleeper train for my first time alone. I felt darkness’ void in knowing no one. I felt the waves of the rocking train, its lurches and bumps as it shifted and wheels screeched. I felt pensive during the odd morning hours when my sore back woke me. I thought about my identity and new words said before I left. More on that soon.

Peace Corps Mongolia continues.

You can read more from me here at DanielLang.me :)

#Peace Corps #memoryLang #unr #vegas #winter #Christmas #newyear #travel #blessed #love #holiday #Mongolia #memoir #story #Catholic #religion #friendship #family #Reno #university

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deliciouskoalaphantom · 2 years ago

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Wedding Photographerswolverha

Leading Ten Tips For Planning A Wedding

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iwastoldthisisgoodforme · 5 years ago

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7.9.19

Class. Felt a bit jipped since I was placed with lower level people so the exercise ended quite early.

Was planning to head to Lentils but Lorraine texted me after class (she had been sent downstairs with Dave so I thought she already left) and asked if I wanted to chill. I had to jump off the train since she wasn’t even at the station and waited for her. She asked what I wanted to do and I said I was hungry so she said we should go to Town Hall. She asked if I had anything going on later and I said nothing so she teased me for being a loner. On the train she gave me shit for wearing sunglasses since I looked like a douche but I told her my eyes are sensitive to light and I pointed out the old Asian people wearing sunglasses so she said I look like a FOB which I said is fine but I’m still not a douche. We discussed class since she went down with David and his teaching style but also talked about Libby. We said that she’s pretty nice but she is pretty insecure and doesn’t seem to realize it. When we got off at Town Hall I mentioned to her how Libby one time asked if I knew what’s been going on with her the past few months and when I said yes, she asked how I knew and I said that she always mentions it in her circs.

Lorraine suggested some food places including Pepper Lunch but we ended up going to the udon place that I ate at with Mina and Hyejin. While walking there she mentioned how Libby likes someone at the Pulse but she wouldn’t say who although she gave me his initials C.C. which I thought was Chris Combes especially when I asked if he’s a dancer.

She asked me how long I planned to stay at the Pulse and I had to fess up to her that this would likely be my last term. She seemed visibly upset about it and asked if there were any alternatives and I told her the deal with the farm work and trying to get a sponsored job. I also told her about how I had no idea what I’m going to do back in the US and explained to her how I can’t just hold a part time job in the US like I did here in Australia. I also was telling her how I was scared I would end up like my cousins who are single and not really going anywhere but she reminded me that I am not like them because I don’t want to live comfortably and I want do something more. I started telling her how I think a lot of what is holding me down lately is just being exhausted and being tired of trying so hard all the time only for me to fail like my struggles with engineering and relationships.

She asked me if I wanted to head to Tomntoms coffee and chill there. It was like a Korean starbucks from what she told me so I said I’m down, I’m always down. I think we started talking about people dating each other at the Pulse and I mentioned Zac and how he mentioned there was something going on with another girl. I said he never told me who it is and she asked me who I think it is and since I didn’t know her initials I just said she was in today’s class and she immediately guessed Courtney. I asked her why she though Courtney and she said that Courtney just has that personality that she thinks guys would like. I also brought up how Anna said something along the lines of “I want you Chris, I haven’t had you in so long” and how nobody seemed to be laughing at that except me but Lorraine said her and Amandine were trying to keep their laughter in.

After ordering coffee, Lorraine said she was going to use the bathroom and I realized Yuna had called me to my surprise. She apologized for bailing on me last night and she sounded sincere but I told her if I knew she was working so long, I would’ve picked another day. She was asking if I was free that night. I was having a bit of trouble hearing her so I stepped outside but went back in. She said she had some training to do but would be free later so she’d text me when she finished. Lorraine was laughing at me and said I was talking with an accent and asked if I was speaking another language.

When we settled in a little bit, she told me she was going through some things too. She said she had been second guessing her relationship because she doesn’t really put priority into it since she’s always busy with work or acting. She often gets home late. I asked her if this is because she’s just so busy and she wants to put in effort or if she just really doesn’t see him as a priority and she said it’s the latter. She doesn't really put in any effort to see him and said that he loves her more than she loves him and actually said she loves him but isn’t in love with him. But she did tell me she could see herself marrying him and that he was perfect in the sense that he was very accommodating in that he’s patient in letting her follow her dreams and that he would be willing to move to the US in 2-3 years like she wants. She told me James said it sounded like she’s breaking up with him but she said that she was just voicing how she thought and that she didn’t think it was fair to him. He told her she should talk to her high school friends about it since they knew her best. So she was planning to meet up with them later but she said she knew what they were going to say. I told her how I felt, especially about being with someone out of convenience.

She told me she shouldn’t been in a relationship because she’s selfish and she’s used to having things go her way. I asked her if she didn’t want to be in relationship but she said she did.

We eneded up bitching about the Pulse like the prices and how unstructured it is and how they make us figure out a lot of things for ourselves. Not only does it waste our time, it’s misdirectional and we’re wasting money. We talked about Tony’s activity earlier that day and how he had no idea what he was doing to make a good activity and yet he had already done a few yet still didn’t know what he needed to do. Not only that when Chris was questioning him about it, it didn’t seem like Tony really understand the point Chris was trying to make.

Yuna texted me and called saying she finished but I missed her call so I called her back. She asked where I was and when I said at a cafe near Town Hall she said she could be there in about 30 minutes so she would text me when she arrives.

Lorraine and I talked more for a bit but then she started fighting with her boyfriend over text so we didn’t talk so much after that. Yuna called me to tell me she’s in front of the woolies so I went to meet her. When I went to say goodbye to Lorraine, she hugged me tighter and longer than usual.

I saw Yuna sitting down waiting for me. She was facing towards the Woolies so she didn’t see me come from behind. She was quite excited to see me and gave me a big hug. She asked if I was hungry (I wasn’t that hungry because of the coffee but I could eat) and so we went to get food. I asked her what kind of training she had to do at work and she said crime training against robberies which surprised me. We passed by the hotel where Clara and I had drinks so I mentioned that place has a good happy hour so she said let’s go afterwards. I noticed while we were walking she would stay fairly close to me and our hands would brush up against each other sometimes. She wanted Japanese food so we eneded up going to the rice bowl place next to Marukame udon. She got a teriyaki chicken bowl while I got a curry plate (I realized I accidentally ordered one without meat). She gave me some of her food and I let her try my curry as well. She likes spicy food and added more spice to her food. I got her some water and showed her some pics from Hawaii and the wedding. She seemed a little bit reserved when we were eating at first but started to open up a little more as we kept eating. She asked about where I work and I showed her Kintaro’s work location. Yuna also asked if US was cheaper or Australia and I said living and working in Australia is more expensive. I asked if she missed Misaki and she said of course and I said she lost her cooking partner and she showed me some of the food she made in her apartment with Misaki and some of their classmates. She asked me if I had to exchange money when I came to Australia and I said I did and she asked why since we both used dollars. She asked what color and I said green, everything green. She asked if even the coins are green and I said no, silver except for pennies which are copper but she didn't know what that is.

Afterwards, we went to the Albion Hotel although we passed it. We ended up buying a pitcher of Sapporo and she was so excited to see Japanese beer that she took a picture. It was the first time she saw Japanese beer in an Australian pub. She said it was better to share and I know she can drink quite a lot so I knew we should get a pitcher. She said she’d get the next round. We ended up sitting at the same place Clara and I sat.

I asked if she likes sake but she said not really. I told her I started to like sake after working at Kintaro and told her about junmai, ginjo and daiginjo but she just started laughing because I knew more about it than her.

I told her that in the US we need to drive and showed her a picture of my car which she found cool. She didn’t have a car in Kanagawa but her parents did.

Vaguely remember talking to her about pasta and showing her ravioli. She likes Attack on Titan like me. Her favorite is Levi and Mikasa and I agreed but I told her I like Sasha because she’s so funny.

I told her about how we call raccoons trash pandas and how Aussies call the ibis, bin chickens, which she found amusing. I showed her the pet birds I had.

I asked if she did any sports and she said yes and showed me pictures of a skiing trip she went on here in Australia with her classmates.

I taught her a bit of english since she told me about the difficulty she had with lashes and rashes. She showed me some of the beer they have at the pub. I asked if she worked as a bartender before but she hadn’t. She asked me if there’s any words she can use besides cute and I told her adorable (I also said Yuna is adorable as an example). At some point I also told her how certain English words mean different things like tension, which is a good thing in Japanese (excitement) but is generally bad in English unless it is something like sexual tension.

At one point, she showed me some pictures from when she visited Hawaii and I was actually surprised since the picture of her looked quite different from how she looks now. I said she she is still cute but in Japanese which I guess sounded weird so I had to tell her in English that she looks pretty in both pictures. She also showed me a picture of her parents. Her dad is quite tall, even taller than me by but 1 or 2 cm.

She showed me the screenshots she took of her crime training and was saying how she didn’t understand it and asked if I understood but I said I didn’t without the background info. Her phone wallpaper was some Japanese model. She also told me that when she was younger she wanted to either work with animals or learn English but learning English was more practical so she picked that. She also showed me her dog. Her favorite animals are dogs and dolphins and we talked about how smart dolphins are. She told me the cafe she works at, Komma, is fairly new but all the employees are Asian. She said they’re nice but she likes working at the bar more because they’re Australian so she can work on her English.

She had to go to the toilet many times which surprised me since it’s usually me that needs to go. She bought some Carlton Draught for us to try and we liked it.

Yuna was craving ice cream so we walked over to Regent’s place. We saw some cheesecake at Uncle Tetsu’s so Yuna asked if I wanted to share so she bought one and we tried a chocolate one which was pretty good. Afterwards, we went to Matcha and shared the green tea and black sesame. Yuna really liked it because earlier I asked her if she likes dessert and she said she likes ice cream but doesn’t like cake or really sweet things. She kept mentioning how much she loved the dessert. When we sat down to eat it, she actually took a spoonful and fed me so I did the same with her. When we finished, I asked if she wanted to walk around so we went near Mooi and she looked at the earrings. She showed me which ones she liked but said they were expensive. We also tried on some sunnies, some hats, and some headbands with the LINE characters. She was shy about me taking pictures of her.

We walked around more Regent’s like looking at the doriyaki and were going to check out Daiso but it was closed. There was a picture of deer in Nara and I asked if she had been there and she said yes. I asked if she liked deer but she said not as much as dolphins or dogs. I remarked how everything in Australia closes early and how Daiso is expensive there which she agreed. We also checked out the restaurants nearby which I think she had gone to a few. We didn’t know what to do afterwards so we just walked around aimlessly. I asked what she will do tomorrow and she said she will go to a BBQ and invited me but I said I have to work. We passed by a bar she had been to and she said it was nice. I asked if it was expensive and she said not too expensive. We were going to grab just one drink but I got turned away because I was too red. We talked about how crazy that is. In Japan she said everyone is blush and drunk but nobody gets turned away. She asked if I miss the US and I said some things I miss like not being turned away at a bar. I asked if she misses Japan and she said only her family and friends. She also told me that in Australia it is easy to find Japanese food compared to when she lived in Malta. We also passed by her cafe and I told her I would visit her there but she said to visit her when she’s getting off so we can hang out afterwards.

When we passed by a conbini she asked if I like any of the candy there so I said yes and pointed out the sour patch kids and said they have it in the US also. I said they are sour and sweet but not too sweet. She offered to pay for it but I said it was ok. When we opened the bag she took one and fed it to me so I fed some to her too. She really liked them. We were heading towards Darling Harbor and saw a club nearby. She had never been to that club before so we decided to go. On the escalator ride I told her I wanted to try her cooking and she said she would make me a bento and asked what I like. I said anything is fine and she asked what kind of meat I like. When we were trying to find the next escalator we grabbed each others hands and started holding them. On the way down I held her and “Yuna, hontou ni kirei” and she smiled and said thank you. We stood in line for the club and she was trying to hear the music. We took out our IDs but she was shy to show me her passport. When we got in, the cover charge was $25 so we left since it was too expensive. She was really shocked about how expensive it was. When we left, Despacito was playing and she said she liked that song and started singing it. She had a really lovely voice. We mentioned going to karaoke.

We ended up walking around Darling Harbor a bit and held hands at some points and sitting and talking while feeding each other candy. We looked at the flavors and there was blackcurrant which we don’t have in the US and is apparently illegal. I asked if she liked coffee and she said she did so I said if she goes to Lentils in the daytime, I’ll make her coffee. She asked about Lentils since she forgot the name and said how vegan food is so healthy. We also talked about Thai food and I showed her my favorite, pad see ew. I told her how I get paid tomorrow for the floor manager so she said no wonder I work there. She asked if I’m busy next week and I said just Monday and Wednesday and when she asked why I said I have class. She asked what kind of class and I said acting so she was quite surprised. I asked her what season is her favorite and she said fall (she told me how people in Malta were confused cause Brits call it autumn) because she likes the fall colors and her birthday is in fall. She said she wants to go the beach but when it’s warm so she can wear a bikini and I said let’s go (I really want to see her in a bikini).

We walked back afterwards to the bridge but I told her I would walk her home. At times she would hold my arm and I put my arm around her to keep her warm. She showed me the bar where she works. I commented on how I was surprised that hotels here are bars. There was also the Pyrmont hotel we passed by and she said she had gone there with her roommates a few times and it was a pretty standard bar. We also talked about rent prices and her apartment where she lives on the 9th floor. She asked about renting a car and said she wanted to go to the beach so I said let’s go sometime. When we got to her place, she hugged me tight and thanked me so much and told me to text her and to tell her when I get home. Before I left I asked if I could kiss her and she pulled me against the wall so the guy couldn’t see us and we kissed each other a bit. I wasn’t sure how into me she was but she did kiss me on her own before I left.

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musichall · 5 years ago

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Show + Tell: The Farewell

All:

It’s always interesting when a movie says that it’s “based on real events,” because movie buffs (like me) can do a little research and uncover the events, giving me a chance to criticize the movie on a whole new level. No matter how tangled the events, I can usually count on Hollywood to oversimplify the story line and wrap things up with a reality-flavored bow.

But on Tuesday night, we’re going to be discussing The Farewell, which is the first movie I’ve ever seen that bills itself as “Based On a Real Lie.” The inventiveness of that tag line is a good sign, and the movie delivers on its promise.

The movie was heavily advertised during its theatrical release, so you probably know at least the outline of the plot. In a nutshell, a young Chinese-American woman learns that her Chinese grandmother is near death and that her entire extended family—in China and the U.S.—is staging a fake wedding as a pretext to go to China to be with the old lady. But, and here’s where the lie comes in, no one is telling the grandmother that she’s dying. Drama, laughs, and tears ensue.

I saw The Farewell during its run at the MallPlexx 73, and I’m pleased to report that the movie takes this premise and runs with it in ways you can’t anticipate, but also can’t resist. My usual misgivings about heartwarming movies are well known, but this one has enough tartness, enough humor, and enough wisdom to make it a definite winner.

One reason for the movie’s success is the performance of Awkwafina in the lead role of Billi, a thoroughly American girl who is both skeptical of the deception and depressed about losing her Nai Nai, which is Chinese for grandmother. Awkwafina, who made a huge splash as the Chinese party girl in Crazy Rich Asians, shows signs of real dramatic talent selling this part. (And Zhao Shuzhen, the actress playing Nai Nai , pretty much walks away with every scene she’s in.)

From now through the end of the year, movies will be a little thinner on the ground at The Music Hall, as rentals, live shows and special events crank up for the holidays. But the quality is still high, and there’s not a better screen in the Seacoast area for watching a movie than The Historic Theater.

That’s where we’ll be discussing The Farewell on Tuesday night. I’ll see you at 7:00pm, and we’ll get all of our skeptical hearts warmed.

Paul Goodwin

TMHMG

The post Show + Tell: The Farewell appeared first on The Music Hall.

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christianworldf · 5 years ago

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New Post has been published on Nehemiah Reset

New Post has been published on https://nehemiahreset.org/christian-worldview-issues/lgbt/george-takeis-extraordinary-trek-the-washington-post/

George Takei's extraordinary trek - The Washington Post

NEW YORK — As a child, he believed the camp to be a magical oasis, where mythical dinosaurs prowled the woods at night. A native of Los Angeles, he marveled at the “flying exotica” of dragonflies, the treasures of rural life and, that first winter, the “pure magic” of snow.

George Takei spent ages 5 to almost 9 imprisoned by the U.S. government in Japanese American internment camps. A relentless optimist, he believed the shameful legacy of incarcerating an estimated 120,000 Americans during World War II would never be forgotten or duplicated.

At 82, Takei came to understand that he may be mistaken on both counts.

Stories fell into the sinkhole of history, given the omission of the camps from many textbooks and the shame felt by former internees, many of whom remained silent about their experiences, even to descendants. Takei takes no refuge in silence.

The “Star Trek” actor has lived long enough to see thousands of immigrant children jailed near the border. On Twitter, to his 2.9 million followers, he wrote, “This nation has a long and tragic history of separating children from their parents, ever since the days of slavery.”

Sitting in his Manhattan pied-à-terre near Carnegie Hall, the activist for gay rights and social justice calls his government’s actions “an endless cycle of inhumanity, cruelty and injustice repeated generation after generation” and says “it’s got to stop.”

Takei was fortunate. He and his two younger siblings were never separated from their parents, who bore the brunt of fear and degradation in the swamps of Arkansas and the high desert of Northern California. They shielded their children, creating a “Life Is Beautiful” experience often filled with wonder. His father told him they were going for “a long vacation in the country.” Their first stop, of all places, was the Santa Anita Racetrack, where the family was assigned to sleep in the stalls. “We get to sleep where the horsies slept! Fun!” he thought.

[Book review: George Takei has talked about internment before, but never quite like this]

Takei had little understanding of his family abandoning their belongings, the government questioning their patriotism and their return to Los Angeles with nothing, starting over on Skid Row. As a teenager, he came to understand the toll.

“The resonance of my childhood in prison is so loud,” says the actor, who still lives in L.A.

The only surviving photograph of Takei while he was in the Rohwer Japanese American Relocation Camp in Rohwer, Ark., in 1942 and 1943. (George Takei)

This summer, Takei is accelerating his mission to make Americans remember. Almost three-quarters of a century after his release, he feels the crush of time: “I have to tell this story before there’s no one left to tell it.”

He has a new graphic memoir, “They Called Us Enemy,” intended to reach all generations but especially the young, by the publisher of the best-selling “March” trilogy by Rep. John Lewis (D-Ga.).

In August, Takei appears in AMC’s 10-episode “The Terror: Infamy,” a horror saga partially set in an internment camp. Four years ago, he starred in the Broadway musical “Allegiance,” inspired by his personal history.

“That experience in the camps gave me my identity,” he says in the apartment he shares with his husband, Brad, which is decorated with Japanese ink drawings and “Star Trek” bric-a-brac: a Starship Enterprise phone, a Sulu action figure in a Bonsai tree.

It’s possible those years in the camps subconsciously nudged Takei toward acting. “To me, the theater was life, its artists, the chroniclers of human history,” he writes in his 1994 autobiography, “To the Stars.” He would star as Hikaru Sulu in a short-lived sci-fi series that would, improbably, spawn more movie and television iterations than furry Tribbles.

In turn, that success created a springboard for social activism. He became “a social media mega-power” — his website’s phrasing, as he has 10 million followers each on two Facebook pages — fueled by a six-member influencer agency, which he calls “Team Takei.” That influence, to a doting and ever-expanding audience, might ensure his experience in the camps matters.

From left, “Star Trek” actors Leonard Nimoy, Takei, DeForest Kelley and James Doohan attend the first showing of the Space Shuttle Enterprise in Palmdale, Calif., on Sept. 17, 1976. (AP)

The eternal frontier

Takei frequently refers to his life as “an American story.” It is also a singular, improbable one.

Who else enjoys continued success through the curious alchemy of “Star Trek,” coming out at age 68 and regular appearances on “The Howard Stern Show”?

“George is a little outrageous, and a little Mr. Rogers. He’s sort of where they meet in the middle,” says filmmaker Jennifer Kroot, who produced the 2014 documentary “To Be Takei.”

After enrolling as an architecture student at the University of California at Berkeley, Takei transferred to UCLA to pursue acting at a time when there was almost no work for Asian Americans except dubbing Japanese monster movies like “Rodan” into English and portraying crass caricatures in the Jerry Lewis vehicles “The Big Mouth” (1967) and “Which Way to the Front?” (1970).

Takei accepted the jobs, the Lewis ones to his everlasting chagrin: “I shouldn’t have done it.” But he learned. Never again.

Fortunately, he landed “Star Trek,” Gene Roddenberry’s utopian vision of space pioneers from varied backgrounds working together in harmony and oddly cropped slacks. Two decades after World War II, it showed an Asian American in a positive role.

Jay Kuo, who co-wrote “Allegiance,” grew up in a household where television was largely forbidden. Not “Star Trek.” Kuo’s Chinese American parents knew “we needed to see ourselves represented. We were invisible. George was the only Asian sex symbol. That shirtless sword scene was groundbreaking,” he says of the scene in which Sulu believes he’s an 18th-century swashbuckler after the crew is infected by a virus.

Mr. Spock (Nimoy), Pavel Chekov (Walter Koenig), Capt. James T. Kirk (William Shatner), Lt. Uhura (Nichelle Nichols), Hikaru Sulu (Takei) and Montgomery “Scotty” Scott (Doohan) stand on the bridge of the Starship Enterprise in the 1968 Season 3 “Star Trek” premiere. (CBS/Getty Images)

The Starship Enterprise was tasked with a five-year mission. Five? The original “Star Trek,” the mother ship of Trekiana, didn’t make it past three, running for just 79 episodes. The final show aired a half-century ago this year.

Takei felt blessed to land the role of the master helmsman. When the show was canceled — “I knew it would be. Good shows were always getting canceled” — Takei was despondent that he would never work again.

Hah! Space became the eternal frontier: six movies with the original cast, an animated series.

[Alyssa Milano’s improbable journey from child star to A-list activist]

Those early TV contracts didn’t favor actors. Takei’s residuals stopped after the 10th rerun. Which happened, Takei says, “about 10,000 reruns ago.”

Fortunately, what the network taketh away, the Trekkies giveth.

Takei jumped on the convention train, across the United States, Canada, Britain, Germany and Japan, signing autographs and posing for photo ops for up to eight hours, his lustrous baritone growing hoarse.

“Star Trek has been enormously bountiful to us,” Takei says. “We had no idea that this phenomenon of Star Trek conventions would follow.”

Now, Takei is one of only four original cast members still alive, along with William Shatner (Capt. James T. Kirk), Nichelle Nichols (communications officer Lt. Uhura) and Walter Koenig (navigator Pavel Chekov).

Takei as Nobuhiro Yamato in AMC’s anthology series “The Terror: Infamy,” set within a World War II-era Japanese American internment camp. (Ed Araquel/AMC)

His professional life flourished, riding the wave of nostalgia and outsize fandom. His personal life, particularly for someone who has always been political and outspoken, was more complicated. Friends and associates long knew Takei was gay. He met Brad Altman, then a journalist, through a gay running club. They started dating in 1987. Brad took George’s last name in 2011.

Takei worried that coming out publicly would deep-six his acting career. So he waited and waited, an eternity, three and a half decades.

“The government imprisoned me for four years for my race. I imprisoned myself about my sexuality for decades,” Kuo recalls Takei telling him. “You can’t imagine what kind of sentry towers you can build around your heart.”

Takei came out in 2005 as a statement, after Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger vetoed a bill legalizing same-sex marriage in California. Quickly, he moved from the closet to the front of the pride parade.

“I was prepared that I wasn’t going to have an acting career,” he says.

Uh, no.

“The opposite happened, and I was more in demand,” Takei says, almost in song. “They love gay George Takei!

It was as though gay was an honorific — and Gay George Takei was a reboot. Gay + “Star Trek” — the latter listing toward camp with its community theater props, too-tight tops and Shatner’s Hamlet-like readings — was a fitting combination.

Takei was hired as much for his droll persona — his catch phrase, “Oh Myyy!” — as his talent. Work was constant: He had appearances on the sitcoms “The Big Bang Theory” and “Will and Grace,” and in Archie Comics (as hero to gay character Kevin Keller), plus that surprising gig on Stern’s show.

Takei and Brad Altman after their wedding on June 17, 2008, in West Hollywood, Calif. The couple started dating in 1987, and Brad took Takei’s last name in 2011. (Valerie Macon/AFP/Getty Images)

“That was a strategy after I came out,” he says of Stern. “We had reached decent, fair-minded people, the LGBT audience. Howard had a huge national audience.”

On Stern’s show, hired technically as “the official announcer” but also as a routinely pranked foil, Takei surprised listeners by inverting his elegant persona — a man who rarely swears or raises his voice — by being as raunchy as the regular crew.

Takei revealed more about his sex life than perhaps anyone anticipated. Mentions of Brad became a constant. Takei’s once-closeted life was broadcast by the master of all media all over Sirius XM.

In 2017, former model Scott R. Brunton alleged that Takei drugged and sexually assaulted him in 1981. No charges were ever filed. Takei denies the incident, which was never substantiated. The actor says, “It’s a fabrication of somebody who wanted to have a story to regale people with.”

Takei moved past it. “It was a very upsetting experience, but it’s never come up again.”

His optimism buoyed him. And he had important causes to serve.

Takei came out in 2005, after Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger vetoed a bill legalizing same-sex marriage in California. “I was prepared that I wasn’t going to have an acting career,” he says. “The opposite happened, and I was more in demand.” (Jesse Dittmar for The Washington Post)

A witness to change

The first time I met George and Brad, at a party in Los Angeles last year, they were bickering.

When we meet in Manhattan, they bicker again over lunch, over the smallest details. Brad worries about almost everything. George does not. It was somewhat refreshing. A cult icon and his spouse being themselves in front of a reporter. Takei’s openness contributes to the continuing embrace by fans five decades after “Star Trek” was canceled and why he’s a natural for Stern. He presents authentically as himself, a man who extols life’s fortunes. Why isn’t he angry with the country that imprisoned his family?

“Because it would be another barbed-wire fence around my heart,” he says.

The Civil Liberties Act of 1988 formally apologized to former Japanese American internees. Takei received a reparation check for $20,000. He donated it to the Japanese American National Museum in Los Angeles, which he helped found and for which he serves as a trustee.

Takei, far right, with his sister Nancy Reiko Takei, brother Henry Takei, mother Fumiko Emily Takei and father Takekuma Norman Takei, around 1947 to 1948. (George Takei)

Takei has witnessed his country change, often for the better. “When I was growing up, I couldn’t marry a white woman” he has said, due to anti-miscegenation laws. “And now I’m married to a white dude!”

In 2012, when he was on “The Celebrity Apprentice,” he invited host Donald Trump to lunch at “any of Trump’s properties” — smart move — with the intention of discussing marriage equality. Trump accepted the offer. Takei recalls that Trump told him “he believed in traditional marriage between a man and a woman. This from a man who has been married three times!”

Takei was in New York recently for Pride Month, attending the Stonewall anniversary concert and City Hall ceremony. The events are as vital to his identity as acting.

“I was active in almost every other social justice cause as well as political candidates,” he says. “But I was silent about the issue that was most personal to me, most organic to who I am, because I wanted my career.”

Time was generous. He began life in internment camps and came out in his late 60s. At 82, he’s flourishing in a field that had little use for him when he started.

Takei’s graphic novel “They Called Us Enemy” recounts his experience as a child in Japanese American internment camps during World War II.

The actor says he wants to ensure all generations know the story of what happened to his family. (Top Shelf Productions)

LEFT: Takei’s graphic novel “They Called Us Enemy” recounts his experience as a child in Japanese American internment camps during World War II. RIGHT: The actor says he wants to ensure all generations know the story of what happened to his family. (Top Shelf Productions)

But time can punish memory. Takei wants to ensure we know the story of what happened to his family, in his country.

The worst day of internment was the first one, he recalls. Soldiers marched up the driveway with bayonets on their rifles, pounded on the door and took the family away to who knew where and for how long. Says Takei, “It was a terrifying morning.”

Bayonets and a 5-year-old boy. It is, as Takei says, an American story — a frightening and lamentable one.

All we can do is learn.

At 82, Takei is thriving in an industry that once had little use for him. His graphic novel “They Called Us Enemy” was released this month, and AMC’s “The Terror: Infamy” premieres in August. (Jesse Dittmar for The Washington Post)

Story by Karen Heller. Portraits by Jesse Dittmar. Photo editing by Mark Gail. Video by Erin Patrick O’Connor. Copy editing by Whitney Juckno. Design by Eddie Alvarez.

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