Loathe at First Sight

by Suzanne Park

  The table went quiet, with everyone digging into their food, no one knowing what to say next. Nolan Senior broke the silence. “So, Melody, I hear you make and play games for a living. I’d love to get paid for that!” He guffawed at his joke, which was a pretty good one, by parent standards. I grinned and nodded.

  “It’s definitely different from your farming business,” I said with a shallow laugh.

  He asked, “So what game are you working on now?”

  Hmmm, how could I explain to Nolan’s tobacco-heir parents that my game involved male strippers who tried to save the world from ultimate destruction? Everyone waited for me to speak. Even my parents leaned forward, pausing their crab cracking, eager to hear about my job. And I didn’t know what to say.

  And then, Nolan jumped in. “Her game is top secret. They don’t want any leaks. It’s like Apple and how they make everyone sign nondisclosures and stuff.”

  I smiled politely. Thank you, Nolan.

  Nolan’s dad winked at me. “Well, we can’t wait to see it when it launches. Maybe Jo and I can download the game on our phones.” I tried to picture Nolan’s mom and dad playing a stripper shooter game in cooperative game mode. Two sixtysomething-year-olds with stripper avatars taking on the world’s survival, blasting zombies and aliens with machine guns and grenade launchers. Oh my god, that would be amazing.

  My parents ate two plates of seafood each, and then had some kind of cream pie that they shared with each other. Their culinary preferences were quite different from the spread the MacKenzies had eaten. They had ended their meal with fresh fruit, cottage cheese, and black coffee.

  My dad wiped his mouth with his napkin. “So you are farmers.”

  “We don’t need to talk about work, Dad.” I needed to intervene before things got awkward with the money stuff.

  Chest puffed, Nolan’s dad boomed, “Oh, we don’t mind. We’re hoping our boy will come home soon to take over the family business when he gets his business degree.”

  Nolan Junior and I exchanged looks. Is that why he didn’t want to graduate?

  “The family’s been farming tobacco since the late 1800s,” Nolan Senior added, sitting up straighter, proud of the family heritage.

  My dad wrinkled his forehead when he said “tobacco.” Then his eyes grew wide. “Did you own any slave?”

  Oh shit.

  The MacKenzies all exchanged glances. His dad chuckled and wiped a single bead of sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. “We don’t get asked that question a lot. From what I know about our family’s deeds, our ancestors bought the farmland after the Civil War ended.”

  My parents went back to eating the cream pie and didn’t have any additional farm/slave questions.

  When the check came, all the parents clawed for the bill. In the end, Mr. MacKenzie Senior grabbed it the quickest. He was also the tallest, so playing keep-away with the check by holding it far above and behind his head was easy for him. He waved down the waiter and handed him a black Centurion American Express card, the same one Jane had. That had a $10K annual fee or some wild shit like that. Were all tobacco farmers like this?

  My parents thanked the MacKenzies for paying for lunch. As we all walked out of the restaurant, my mom said, “You should come over tomorrow morning for our continental breakfast. It free. They have croissant, cream cheese pastry, and slice bagel. We will be there just two day.” She leaned in and whispered, “They won’t check for room key.” Mr. and Mrs. MacKenzie smiled civilly and graciously declined. It bothered me that my parents didn’t invite ME for free breakfast. I was always down for free food.

  My dad said to the MacKenzie elders, “Very nice meeting you.” He and Nolan Senior shook hands. Then Dad turned to Nolan and patted his back. “We give our blessing if you want to marry Melody someday.”

  My jaw dropped, and Nolan’s did too. I glanced at the MacKenzie elders, and both of them looked like someone had jumped out of a bush and yelled, BOO! Here’s your new daughter-in-law! My parents ducked into my car and slammed the doors while I stood there quietly with all three MacKenzies, pulse racing, trying to process what had happened. Before I could apologize on my parents’ behalf, my dad leaned over from the passenger seat and beeped my horn four times.

  Ready.

  To.

  Go.

  Now.

  If this were a play, this is where I would yell, “And . . . end scene!” for comic relief. But, unfortunately, this was not a play. And there seemed to be no end to this insanity.

  I’m so sorry, I mouthed to Nolan. I jumped into my car and drove the Joo family away at breakneck speed. Too bad we didn’t wager on who had the most embarrassing parents. I would have gotten my $20 back.

  CANDACE TEXTED ME while I was unloading my parents’ luggage at Holiday Inn. Her court marriage appointment had been delayed a couple of hours, but it was back on again.

  After circling the courthouse and coming to terms with the fact that no street parking was available in the vicinity, I drove under the building where every full hour of parking was $5.

  The judge, Candace, and Wil hovered together, each with a pen in hand, just as I entered the courtroom. When Candace saw me walk into the courtroom, she squealed, “Oh my god, Melody! You made it! You get to witness us getting married! I’m still single right now for a few more seconds!”

  The judge chuckled and waved me forward. The court-appointed witnesses had just picked up pens to sign the papers, but the judge allowed me to sign the document as witness number one. I scanned the room for Jane.

  Wil noticed. “Jane? She was here a few minutes but had to leave once our appointment got bumped.”

  After putting my name to paper, I took a photo with the happy couple. Candace, in a gorgeous sleeveless silk dress looked stunning. Wil looked pretty good, too, wearing a classic black tuxedo with a silver bow tie. Candace’s bouquet was an assortment of wildflowers tied together in a thick ribbon that matched her dress.

  The judge smiled and declared Candace and Wil, Mr. and Mrs. Fung, husband and wife. Candace and Wil kissed for my photo and then continued to kiss about fifty times. I’d never attended a wedding so short.

  The photographer tapped his foot. “We need to get to the museum for the photo shoot before it gets too dark. A storm is coming, and I don’t want it to ruin your photos.” Translation: get out of their way and let them do their planned photo thing. I waved to Candace and Wil as they drove away in their Jeep, with cans tied with strings clattering along as they turned out of the courthouse parking lot. As their car grew smaller in the distance and eventually disappeared, I thought about how happy they looked during their ceremony. I wanted what they had: to be with a partner who was caring, down-to-earth, and accepted me the way I was.

  I’d only parked there a total of twenty-five minutes. According to the signs, parking was free for thirty minutes or less. Woooo, free parking! The parking attendant waved me through and I headed home with a gigantic smile plastered on my face. At least something went amazingly right that day.

  Chapter Eighteen

  For three straight weeks, it was just work, work, work. No play, play, play. And no distractions. I tuned Asher out, skipped out on any employee trainings and workshops, and ignored all Nolan’s impromptu social visits and playful messages. I was just too embarrassed by my dad’s marriage approval comment and hadn’t worked through my feelings about Nolan’s immense wealth. After a while, he got the hint. It probably helped that I just flat out said, “Sorry, I’m busy,” anytime he tried to interact with me.

  Nick, my mentor and career savior, called me at 7:30 A.M. the day of GameCon Northwest. “Good news! The game trailer is rendering now and will be ready within the hour.” He and I had pulled an all-nighter to get the video finished.

  I groaned and said, “GameCon floor opens at nine, we’re barely going to make it.” The late delivery of the trailer wasn’t Nick’s fault. Ian insisted that we include some of the latest game clips that had just been finished the
previous night. Nick didn’t complain, though, my company paid a hefty fee for the redo. The video looked amazing, even with the last-minute touches.

  “Yes, but we ARE going to make it, Melody,” Nick reassured me. “Have I ever missed a deadline?”

  The demo build had come along nicely too.

  GameCon NW was one of the largest gaming conventions on the West Coast and was also the fastest growing. Both inside and outside of the venue, Stormtroopers, Sailor Moons, superheroes, and mutant cosplayers milled around, studying the show floor maps and taking selfies. Luigi from Mario Brothers gave me a high five at the main entrance.

  I had come to the convention the day before to make sure we had no problems with the video monitors, Wi-Fi, or the electricity. Setting up our booth twenty-four hours in advance paid off because our display only needed minor final touches the morning of the show. The last thing on my to-do list was to pick up my preordered cosplay warrior costumes, fake machetes, and hunting knives from the nearby costume rental shop.

  Ian came by the booth while Asher and I put our mics on. He whistled when he saw the booth. “Wow, Melody. I am so glad we came to this convention. Aren’t you glad I got us in?”

  “Well, it’s the hard work from the team that makes this look so fantastic.” The Seventeen Studios events team scurried past him, carrying boxes of swag and stacks of controllers. “Our A/V guys just uploaded our demos. They’re amazing.” One of them waved a hello with his screwdriver and continued securing the video monitor to the booth backboard.

  “Right. Great job, everyone.” Ian pulled his hands through his hair. “Did you get my email this morning about the show talent being unapproved by finance? They said we couldn’t risk having strippers on the payroll because it might flag an ethics violation.”

  I frowned. “Wait, what email? I didn’t get anything from you.”

  He scrolled through his email and said, “Oops, looks like it’s still in my email drafts. Let me forward it to you now.”

  My phone buzzed. The content of Ian’s email was a repeat of what he just told me, which left out the fact that the finance team had already reached out to Dan and Paul this week to let them know their services wouldn’t be needed at the convention. No one told me.

  Being cautious, I pulled Ian aside to have this discussion out of earshot of my team. “Ian, you authorized them. They were the big splashy draw to our booth. No one else has male strippers.”

  He held up his hold that thought index finger to my face and picked up his buzzing phone. After a few seconds, he put his hand over the speaker. “Well, you have a few minutes to think of a plan B.” He removed his hand and said, “Yes, I’d be happy to give you an exclusive interview today. Let me come meet you now.” He shuffled away, leaving me standing there with plastic machetes in my hands.

  Asher walked up to me. “I eavesdropped, sorry. What are we supposed to do now, boss?” He wrinkled his brow and awaited my response. The team needed me to look coolheaded and collected, not panicked and vomity.

  Think, Melody, think.

  Shit! Shit! Shit!

  Fuck fuck fuck!

  Wait.

  I had an idea! A terrible one, though. But at least it was a feasible one. Ugh, a truly terrible, feasible one. And it meant I’d have to do something I never, ever wanted to do. I bit my lip and weighed my options before requesting a group video chat with Candace’s husband, Wil, and Nolan.

  “Hey, Mel, what’s up?” Wil was at the gym, in the weights area.

  Nolan picked up, too. “Uh, hi, Melody?” He came into view with the shower behind him, tucking in his towel around his waist. I hadn’t talked to him since the humiliating parent brunch.

  “Wil? Nolan? Um, hi there! Wil, meet Nolan, he works at my company. Nolan, this is Wil, he’s my best friend’s husband. Sorry about the group video but I’m crunched for time. I need a huge favor from you both, and I might get fired if you don’t help me, but no pressure. And I’d owe you both big. Like many-years-of-future-babysitting-for-Wil and a-year-supply-of-P.F.-Chang’s-dinners-for-Nolan kind of big.” I took a deep breath in and out.

  Wil asked in a whisper, “Oh wow. Is it illegal?”

  “Of course it’s not illegal!”

  Nolan asked with a giant smirk, “So what exactly is happening here? Is Melody Joo actually asking for . . . help?”

  I pursed my lips together and hesitated. “I . . . I am. I’m asking for your help. Please.”

  “If it’s shady or embarrassing, can I wear a disguise?” He tilted his chin up, pondering the situation.

  I tapped my finger on my bottom lip. “Hmmm, yes, you can. I know you are both busy on weekends, but I need you to dress in costume as characters in my game. Like, in an hour. I thought of you two because, without sounding too weird or pervy, you guys have physiques that women should flock to, and the male stripper talent I’d recruited fell through. The only thing you’ll need to do is stand in the booth with me, and be all friendly and smiley with people, with your shirts off. Could you do that?”

  “Oh . . . so you’ve checked out my physique?” Nolan teased.

  “But we’d have pants?” Wil asked in a panicked tone.

  I laughed. “Yes, Nolan, no shame in admitting this given my current predicament. And yes, Wil. I picked out tasteful long cargo shorts, don’t worry. They have more coverage than what you’d wear to the beach. We’ll give you sunglasses and give you different hairstyles, too, if you want. PLEASE, can you guys help?” Please say yes. Please say yes.

  If it hadn’t been for their stunned blinking, I would have assumed my phone had frozen. Honestly, I had no idea how they’d respond. How would I react if either of them asked me to show up to a trade event in less than an hour, dressed like a stripper? It would’ve taken at least thirty minutes for me to stop laughing hysterically. And then the remaining thirty to go through a wide range of feelings about what I should do, simply because someone I trusted and respected had just asked me to parade around at a convention in stripper garb.

  Nolan finally broke the silence. “I’ll do it, but you have to cosplay too.”

  Wil quickly added, “Yeah, I’ll do it if you cosplay. In three months I’ll be busy changing diapers, so this is probably my last chance to do something exciting like this! Let’s make it count!”

  I’d planned on wearing a black fitted Seventeen Studios T-shirt to match the rest of my team. If they wanted me in costume, too, then I’d need to find an outfit like one of my female characters, to be true to the game. The women in the game wore more clothes than the dudes.

  My heart soared as I agreed to their demands. “Okay, I’ll dress up too! It’s a deal then? Can you two get to the Seattle Convention Center in less than fifty minutes? We can expense your transportation. And you get free lunch!”

  Wil nodded. “I need to hop in the shower first, and I’ll head straight there.”

  “Well, I’m already showered.” Nolan accidentally dropped his towel but then pulled his phone up just in time. My heartbeat sped up as I imagined what was under that navy-blue terry cloth.

  C’mon, brain, focus on the job!

  “See you soon.” I flapped my hands, fanning myself, and then sat a moment, letting it sink in that with my resourcefulness I’d just avoided a train wreck.

  I found strippers! And to fill my end of the bargain, finding a costume was top priority. There was a scene in Ultimate Apocalypse where a woman in full-on army combat gear wearing camouflage face paint comes storming out of the woods, offering advice about the dangers of the wilderness that gets them farther along in their journey. She would be my character. An army-navy surplus store within walking distance of the convention center opened at 9 A.M. I told Asher I had a new plan and left the costumes for Nolan and Wil with him.

  AS SOON AS the store unlocked its doors I rushed to women’s combat gear and brought every item in that section to the checkout counter.

  I asked the checkout clerk, “Does anyone here do face-paint camouflage designs?
”

  He yelled to the back of the store. “Uncle Gerry! Come to the front!” A bald, tattooed Uncle Gerry appeared, wearing a T-shirt that read GOD BLESS ’MERICA.

  I asked Uncle Gerry if he could help me, and he answered in a gravelly voice, “I learned the face-painting trade by studying pictures of soldiers’ faces in Desert Storm.” I took that to mean yes.

  He sat me down on the swivel chair behind the counter and got to work. Ten minutes later, I took a look at the finished creation in the mirror. A transformed Melody Joo stared back at me, with a green splotchy face, looking like a sickly Hulk. But I had no time for any artistic suggestions. I handed over a five-dollar tip, changed into the war gear in the bathroom, and charged out the door like a crazed apocalyptic fanatic.

  The main doors to the event were still closed when I arrived. A few hundred game enthusiasts waited outside, ready to storm the show floor. Film crews from all over the world, teenage YouTubers doing selfie videos, and hard-core cosplayers lined up, anticipating the grand opening to the all-weekend event. Straggling food truck vendors pulled up to the front of the venue, offering quick-grab breakfast options while they prepared for the future lunch rush. I flashed my vendor badge and the security crew allowed me to enter the premises while two onlookers complained, “Awww, why does she get to go in? Is it ’cause she’s a chick?” and “Maybe I should flash my boobs, too.”

  I turned around and gave them the finger.

  Because our booth was located in the very back of the conference hall, I took in all the rock music, flashing lights, and nonstop game-related videos as any attendee would along the way. It was like someone brought Las Vegas, Dave & Buster’s, and Times Square all into one place, balled them all up, threw them into the air, and blew that shit up with a glitter-spraying frag cannon. The convention patrons paid good money for this blingy, flashy, epileptic-seizure-inducing experience. Exhibitors shouted their product pitches at me and shoved free T-shirts, rolled posters, and food truck coupons into my arms as I looked for my team.