Prologue

After being on the plane for what seemed like days, Mr. Chien was grateful to be off the thing. He grabbed his luggage and walked out of the terminal.

“Mr. Chien! Mr. Chien~!” A tall blond man with blue eyes was shouting for him. Not really. It more appeared that he was shouting in the general area rather than a specific person. Mr. Chien deduced that this man was sent to pick him up, but the man probably had no clue who he was looking for or what this person looked like. How unprofessional. He sighed and started to walk toward the man.

“Oh! Mr. Chien, right? I was sent to pick you up!” The man grinned. “Here. I’ll help you with your bags.”

They walked over to a car and loaded the things into the trunk. Mr. Chien sat down at the passenger side seat, and they drove off.

While driving on the freeway, he couldn’t help but notice that all there was were tall buildings. Suddenly, a voice snaps him out of it.

“Um. Hey. I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Marco. It’s nice to meet you. So, what do you think of America so far?” He grinned.

Mr. Chien glanced over to the driver. I have to make a good impression, he thought. “I think America is a wonderful place.”

Marco raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Oh, really now? I think America is a great place too.”

“Very nationalistic, aren’t you?”

“Me, nationalistic? Naw. Not really. I just think other countries suck.” He laughed to himself as he continued driving.

What was he saying? Other countries suck…? Suck what? Oh. He must be using suck as some slang that means bad. So he thinks other countries are bad? Isn’t that the same as nationalism? Mr. Chien stopped thinking altogether and stared outside the window.

---

“I’m sorry. There are no reservations for a ‘Mr. Chien’ here.”

Mr. Chien stood at the hotel lobby reception desk with an annoyed look on his face. He began to speak, but realized that speaking Chinese wasn’t going to get him anywhere. What he wanted to say didn’t sound quite right in English. He began to explain that he was here to negotiate with a company, so the reservation should be made out to the company’s name. The receptionist began to type on the computer and her expression changed to that of surprise.

“This can’t be right. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. We… we thought it was a joke so we gave your room to someone else.”

“Joke? What joke?” Mr. Chien started to get worried now.

“The… the reservation said to set aside a room for… 'Mr. Money.’ We thought it was a joke, we’re so sorry!”

Money? MONEY?! It’s true that was his last name. Money was the literal translation of his last name, 錢 (qian). But seriously? Who thought it was a good idea to make a reservation using a literal translation of his name? Mr. Chien sighed. “Um… Miss, in that case, can you please reserve a room for me now?”

“I’m sorry. We’re booked for 2 months.” The woman shrugged and gave an apologetic smile, indicating that she could do nothing for him.

Mr. Chien was furious, though he kept a calm look on his face. He wanted to rip out the throat of whoever was responsible for making the reservation. He decided that once he found some lodgings, he’d tack on some thousand dollars to the proposal to make the company pay for all the trouble he had to go through. He had to physically restrain himself from kicking something over, and he dragged his luggage outside. He probably had to call a taxi.

Then he saw that Marco’s car was still there. He peered in and it appeared that Marco was fiddling around with the radio. Mr. Chien tapped gently on the window, prompting Marco turn his head and to roll down the window.

“Hey there, Mr. Chien! Did you forget something in the car?” He smiled.

“Um. No. It seems that I do not have any reservations at this hotel. This means that I have no place to stay. If you would be so kind, can you please bring me to another decent hotel in the area?”

It was unsettling to say the least. Marco’s blank, glass blue eyes seemed to stare past Mr. Chien into some weird cosmos. The silence became extremely awkward and Mr. Chien couldn’t help but feel that maybe he didn’t understand the question. “Um. As I was saying… could you—”

Marco snapped out of his intense staring and turned to face the steering wheel. “Sorry. I’m thinking. I live here so it’s not like I randomly go out to hotels in the neighborhood to see if they’re nice. Let’s see… OH! You can stay at my house! You don’t have to pay me or anything, and you’ll have free food and we’ll commute to work together so you don’t have to pay for taxis. How does that sound?” He grinned from ear to ear.

Mr. Chien was shocked. What was this man THINKING? If someone asked you if there was a nice hotel nearby, you don’t just offer to let that person stay at your place! It’s just… it’s just… There were no words for it. Mr. Chien was sure that either choice he made, he would regret it later. So he hesitantly said yes.

---

After checking in with the receptionist in the company lobby (thankfully, not under the name of “Mr. Money”), Mr. Chien made his way to the upper levels of the building. There, he met up with Mr. Gnarlo. Mr. Chien briefly wondered what part of the world this man came from to have the last name “Gnarlo.” But all that was pushed aside.

“Hello, Mr. Chien! Glad to see you made it here safe and sound. Are the lodgings to your approval?”

Mr. Chien’s voice turned bitter. “It seems that the hotel has given my room away so I no longer have a place to stay.”

Mr. Gnarlo nodded. “Oh. I see. I deeply empathize with you.” His voice contained neither empathy nor sympathy, and Mr. Chien wondered if this man even knew the meaning of the word “empathy.”

Mr. Gnarlo continued. “We will begin the negotiations tomorrow, so please go back to your hotel room and rest up.” Mr. Chien was disgusted now. Did this man have the attention span of 10 seconds? He just told him that he had no hotel room, and yet…! Mr. Chien turned to leave before Mr. Gnarlo’s booming voice signaled him to stop.

“Before you go, please take this.” Mr. Chien was handed a new cellphone. “This is the company’s cellphone, and we will use this to contact you. Please return it once the negotiations are over.”

Mr. Chien walked back down to the lobby where Marco was sitting around. Marco’s face lit up. “Oh hey. That was pretty quick.”

“Let’s just go.” Both of them exited the building and got into the car.

---

The next few hours were a blur. All Mr. Chien remembered was driving to some suburb and being unceremoniously forced into a house. He was given a tour through the house and introduced to somebody, but he didn’t remember who. The jet lag was getting to him, and the stress only intensified the feeling of being utterly drained of energy. He collapsed on the bed and was thankful for how fresh and clean the sheets were. He placed his glasses on the nightstand and began to undress. He then changed into some light sleeping clothes and fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, he woke up to the sound of movement and the smell of food cooking in the next room over. “銀愛早… (Yin Ai is up early…)” he thought. He grunted as he forced himself out of the warm comfortable bed. He groggily made his way to the kitchen.

“我愛人早安… (Good morning, darling…)”

“Oh. Good morning, Mr. Chien!” A man in pink pajamas greeted him. PINK. Mr. Chien could only stand there in abject horror.

Marco continued. “There’s coffee on the counter if you want any. Breakfast is at the table so dig in.”

Waking up in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people became too much for him. “晴天霹靂!你不是…! (Holy Shit! You aren’t…!)” Mr. Chien stopped himself. He had to physically strain himself to speak English. “You are not my wife! Where am I?!” He pronounced each syllable with a extremely heavy accent, but he was too shocked and tired to care how he sounded.

Marco raised an eyebrow. Yesterday, Mr. Chien didn’t speak with an accent, so hearing this Engrish entertained Marco. He laughed. “You’re at my house.”

“Then WHAT did we DO last night?” Mr. Chien’s English was slowly collapsing upon itself as he began to put stress on extremely unrelated words. He didn’t intend to make it sound pervy, but it ended up that way.

“Um… We—”

“DO NOT ANSWER THE QUESTION.” Mr. Chien sat down on the chair and began to sort things out. That’s right. He didn’t have a place to stay because the hotel had no reservations, and that’s why he’s staying with this man. And… and…! Mr. Chien’s brain stopped working somewhere down the line. Suddenly a blond haired green eyed little boy not much older than his son appeared in front of him. Mr. Chien stared at the kid for a while before the boy spoke.

“Mr. Chien, the bathroom’s open so you can go use it now.”

Who was this boy? That’s right. He was introduced to him yesterday, but he was too tired to remember right now. Mr. Chien got up and shuffled to his room to grab his things, and then proceeded to shuffle down to the bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face to wake himself up and he stared at the mirror. He had deep, dark bags under his eyes. He looked pretty pathetic. He sighed. It looks like this is going to be a long trip.