0 comments

LGBTQ+ East Asian Friendship

Six years ago, Song Mei Yin bought herself a one-way ticket and didn’t look back.


Her mother said she’d lost her mind, angry with her decision even up until the moment she boarded the plane. The people she met were intrigued as to why she would leave a bustling metropolis with deep-rooted culture and fascinating history. She quickly grew accustomed to answering those kind of questions with “I wanted a new adventure”, omitting her past to acquaintances and classmates, people that didn’t matter enough for her to share her story, people that she knew wouldn’t understand.


Fionn DeAngelis was different, though. A meek and timid personality with a heart of gold, a good listener with an abundance of patience and empathy. They became friends and then roommates in their second year of university, and have stuck together since. If Mei believed in soulmates, she would say that she’s found hers.


“Do you ever regret leaving?” Fionn asks one night when they’re sitting on the floor of their newly-rented apartment, eating pizza and drinking beer in front of the television, an episode of Carmen Sandiego flashing across the screen.


Mei takes a large gulp of her drink, sighing at the cool liquid running down her throat. “Why would I?”


Fionn takes a bite of her pizza. “You don’t miss home?”


It’s a rhetorical question, really. They both know it.


“Home?” Mei picks up another slice from the box, shaking her head. “This is my home.”


With a grin, Fionn raises her beer can to an impromptu toast. “To better remember!” she shouts confidently in Mandarin Chinese before doing a double take. “Wait, I think I said ‘remember’ instead of ‘memories.’”


“Yeah, you did, but points for effort,” Mei laughs, and it’s bright, joyous. A sound that would never be heard in the prison she left behind, along with an old self that was never allowed to bloom. She slings an arm over Fionn’s shoulders and clinks their cans with a cheer, “To better memories together!”

+ + + + +

When Fionn arrives home from work, she finds Mei sprawled facedown on the couch, one leg dangling over the side. The comical sight isn’t uncommon - studying for a Masters degree full-time isn’t child’s play, after all.


“Meimei?” Flicking off her shoes, she pads across the wooden floor and crouches next to her, poking her arm a few times. “Hey, you alive?” The smile quickly disappears when Mei wordlessly shows her her phone screen. “Your mom is... here?”


“On a business trip,” comes the muffled monotonous reply.


Fionn takes a few moments to read the messages. “Do you want to see her?” she asks tentatively.


Mei flops around to lie on her back, tracing the slight cracks in the ceiling paint with her eyes. “Not really…”


“But?”


She groans in frustration, rubbing her face. “She’s my mom.”


“She’s your mom, but she’s also a toxic presence in your life.” Mei punches a poor cushion with another groan, kicking her legs like she’s swimming. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, you know.”


“I know, but…” she hesitates, chewing on her lower lip, a slight crease between her brows, “what if she’s changed?”


“You can give her one more chance and see how it goes.” Fionn knows Mei is still hoping for a chance to reconcile with her mother, even if she doesn’t want to admit it. “It’s better to try than to look back and regret not trying.”


Mei turns onto her side, pouting, “But what if it turns out to be a disaster, like it always does?”


Fionn tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, “Then I’ll be waiting for you at home with Adventure Time on the TV and a big tub of Baskin-Robbins in the freezer.”


“Mint chocolate chip?!”


Fionn giggles at the way Mei’s eyes immediately light up with excitement. “Mint chocolate chip,” she affirms with a nod before pulling an expression of disgust, “even if it tastes gross.”


“Thanks for respecting my preferences,” Mei jokes, but Fionn knows the real underlying meaning in those words.


“I love you for you, dumb ass. Even if you eat toothpaste ice cream,” she adds as an afterthought, hopping away just in time with a shriek before Mei can slap her arm for insulting her favourite flavour.


“I love me, too!” Mei shouts, laughing.


Fionn smiles back, proud of how far her best friend has come. “Good.”

+ + + + +

“I thought we were finally going to talk things out.”


“We are, dear. This is important.”


“Forcing me to go on a blind date is ‘important?’ What am I to you?”


“Listen-”


“No, you listen. How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t like men?”


“When will you stop with that nonsense? It’s just a phase-”


“Jesus Christ, Mom, I’m almost twenty-five, my identity is not a ‘phase!’”

The harsh wind whips through her hair as she runs barefoot down the street, squalls of spitting rain lashing against her skin like leather whips.


Stupid - she’s so stupid.


If she had the energy to, she would mock her own naïvety.


Did she really expect a change of heart?


Was she so desperate that she actually started to hope for the impossible?


Disappointment isn’t a foreign feeling, particularly when it comes to that woman, and neither is fury. Hell, those emotions are probably the only consistent things she’s ever given or elicited in her.


She’s angry at the contemptuous words her mother always mindlessly spits, the continuous disdain and dismissal of opposing opinions, the ruthless judgements of other people from her high horse, the blatant disgust for anything that’s deemed ‘shameful’, which includes her own daughter - there are so many things that Mei can’t believe she used to have the patience to put up with.


But mostly, at this moment, she’s angry at herself for being disappointed, for being stupid enough to believe, even for a single millisecond, that her mother would finally listen.


Through her blurry vision, she sees the green glow of the pedestrian light and hastily crosses the street, ignoring strange looks from passersby under their raincoats and umbrellas.


Her clothes are drenched shades darker, rivulets of icy water running down her skin. She pushes matted hair from her forehead, her body shaking from uncontrollable sobs. She heaves in breath after breath, palms roughly wiping away the tears welling up in her eyes, her face still contorted in an ugly cry.


She’s used to the wounds that her mother likes to leave, trying to wear her down, trying to make her obey, trying to control her. But even after all these years, it doesn’t hurt any less.


Suddenly, a blaring horn and blinding headlights make her freeze in her tracks.


God forbid she wishes that traffic would run her over.


The car screeches to a halt, and the driver sticks his head out the window. “Watch where you’re going, bitch!”


Something inside her snaps. She’s so sick of being made to think she’s always wrong, sick of being treated like an insignificant pawn, sick of being made to feel like nothing more than a nuisance.


“You watch where you’re fucking driving, you fucking piece of horse shit!” she screams, flipping him off.


A bolt of lighting splits the sky open, and a clap of deafening thunder drowns out the sound of rain for a moment. It’s reminiscent of the cracks on her heart that have never really healed.


It begins to rain harder.

“Why do you insist on doing this?”


“Doing what?! Loving myself for who I am?”


“You’re confused! Sick!”


“How can you say that to your own daughter?”

It’s cold, and her feet are red and scratched up from the roads, but she doesn’t feel anything. She can’t tell if the numbness stems from the weather or the remaining hollowness in her chest where boiling anger once resided.


She doesn’t really care.


As she sits on the stairs outside the apartment building, she looks up at the clouds with half-lidded eyes. The raindrops mix with her tears, trailing down her face.


She smiles sombrely.


She’s always liked rainy days. It made her feel less alone, knowing that the sky was crying with her.

“You’re an utter disgrace.”


“If my happiness is a disgrace, then so be it!”


“Watch your tone.”


“You don’t get to decide what I should or shouldn’t feel. You have no right-”

She touches her face gingerly, wincing at the cut on her cheekbone.


Somehow, she barks out a mirthless laugh, “Mom’s gotten careless.”


It’s the first time she’s left a mark that can't be hidden.

“You belong to me, so I have every right to tell you to shut up and do as you’re told.”

“Shut up and do as you’re told.” She can’t even begin to count how many times she’s heard that over the course of her life. A rather popular variation of the dastardly phrase her mother fancied was “stay quiet and obey”.


They’re simple words, but she knows what they really mean: Just be a good girl and don’t ask questions. Just keep your opinions to yourself and look pretty, like a flower waiting to be plucked. Just throw away your freedom and dignity to please someone who will never love your real self.


She hugs her knees against her chest, head down, raindrops pattering against her nape. Maybe if she clenches her jaw hard enough, the sobs will stop trying to escape.

“I had hoped that giving you one more chance wouldn’t be a mistake, but I was wrong. We’re done here.”


“We’re not done until I-”


“Don’t contact me again.”


“Where are you going? Come back. I said come back! Song Mei Yin!”

“Mei?”


Variations of the same word - her beloved name - but spoken so differently.


Her lips tremble as a new wave of tears cascade from her eyes. “Fionn…”


Panting from her sprint down the street, Fionn bends down, moving her umbrella to cover Mei, raindrops decorating her own hair like crystals. She reaches her hand out, gently caressing cold skin beneath the angry red line slashed across Mei’s cheekbone, and her own eyes sting from unshed tears.


Fionn doesn’t ask questions. She doesn’t have to. “Let’s go inside.”


Entering the apartment, Mei sits down on the couch, staring at her haggard reflection in the dark television screen. ‘Pathetic’ would be an accurate word to describe her current state, she thinks. A spark of anger erupts in her chest, but it fizzles out almost instantly, swallowed by a familiar abyss of anguish and sardonic self-pity.


Fionn sees the blank gaze and knows that Mei’s going down a rabbit hole of bad thoughts. Mustering a smile, she crouches down in front of her. “Let’s run you a hot bath, okay? You’re freezing and I don’t want you to get sick-”


Without warning, Mei lunges forward and hugs her tightly. Fionn falls backwards with a quiet yelp, but returns the trembling embrace just as fiercely, ignoring the way her own clothes start soaking up the rainwater.


“I’m never seeing her again.”


Five words carrying a weight that Mei’s always tried to shoulder alone. Five words of raw agony, resignation, a testament to her frayed edges. Five words bidding farewell to a painful chapter that she’s been rereading for far too long. 


Mei holds Fionn even tighter as if she’s afraid she’ll disappear. Her words are slightly muffled, wracked by sobs, “Does this make me a bad person?”


The reply is instantaneous, “You are not a bad person for putting yourself first.” Fionn strokes her hair. “It’s okay, let it all out. I got you, Meimei. You’re safe,” she says softly, her heart clenching as the wails get louder. “We’re safe here.”

+ + + + +

“Song Mei Yin.”


Adjusting her graduation cap, Mei strides onto stage with confident steps, shaking hands with an old man who hands her the diploma cover for her Master’s degree.


It’s a beautiful day, albeit a little too warm, for an outdoor graduation ceremony.


As she looks out at the crowd of her classmates’ families, perhaps she feels a twinge of envy with a hint of forlornness. Just a little bit. However, the feelings dissipate in the blink of an eye when she hears a familiar voice screaming,


“I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!”


She spots Fionn pumping one fist in the air while taking an undoubtedly shaky video on her phone, given that she’s hopping up and down like an overexcited child riding a sugar high. Her zeal makes her stick out like a sore thumb, and the other people around her are probably suffering from some serious second-hand embarrassment, but Mei just laughs and poses briefly with a peace sign.


As she sits back down, fanning herself lightly with her diploma cover, a classmate nudges her from the side. “Did your family make it today?”


Mei jabs a thumb over her shoulder with a snort, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure you heard her just now.”


Her classmate blinks. “That’s Fionn, though?”


“Yup.” Mei smiles. “She’s the only family I need.”

February 04, 2021 12:42

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

0 comments

Reedsy | Default — Editors with Marker | 2024-05

Bring your publishing dreams to life

The world's best editors, designers, and marketers are on Reedsy. Come meet them.