China Syndrome

<Why!?> Jocelyn spat out, furrowing her brow at Lan. The girl was just utterly useless. <No one's got your mouth taped shut. How can you be so helpless?> Lan really pissed her off as they entered the line. Jocelyn looked over the specials and decided that it would be good to have a pot pie they were serving. it reminded her a bit of the meat pies that her mother cooked and she liked the thought. She passed Lan a tray and then ordered for the both of them.

<What do you mean, whatever is available? Where's your pride!? Where's your sense of culture!? Shouldn't you be hungrily devouring meat buns!? Dim sum!?> Jocelyn shook her head. Meat buns were too soft. She liked the flaky crust of a meat pie. She also liked things barbecued. Soup just seemed a little too bland for her. it irritated her a lot. She grabbed drinks for both of them as well and then paid for their meal before angrily stomping to a table and sitting down. She couldn't believe she was having a meal with Lan. It pissed her off! So, why was she still blushing. Why was her heart beating a little faster?

<Jiao…uh, Jocelyn…> Lan began. She still felt a little weird using the other Chinese girlâ€s name, but she thought that, perhaps, it would help to close the distance between them. <I…just donâ€t really like talking to people very much. Itâ€s just…itâ€s just how Iâ€m wired. Iâ€ve s-sort of tried to analyze myself—you know, think back to what would have made me so, uh, unsocial.>

She paused, letting Jocelyn order their food, get their drinks, and pay for the whole kit and caboodle before resuming her story. <My father was intense sometimes…n-not abusive, or anything, but…w-well, intense really is the best word for it. Now, my sister…I can probably blame her for a lot of my, uh, anxiety. She was…she was mean. Manipulative.> Lan paused again as they sat down, shifting awkwardly in the seat next to Jocelyn. She was blushing a little.

<I like Chinese food, but I like other kinds of food, too,> she continued, abruptly changing the subject, finding food much less awkward to speak of than her family. <I mean…I grew up eating it. I d-donâ€t really need to eat it all the time. Oh, hey, ah, here, I should give you money…s-since you paid for my meal, too…> She would reach into her pocket and dig out a wallet, extricating a few notes from the billfold and putting them on the table next to Jocelynâ€s tray.

Jocelyn furrowed her brow as Lan spoke. Every word that came out of the girl just absolutely pissed her off. <You can't just NOT talk to people!> She barked. <Why are you such an idiot! How do you even manage to get your clothes on int he morning! I'll bet you're too shy to even manage that!> She continued to berate her country woman despite the fact that she was calmly eating her pot pie. To anyone else, it probably seemed like the two were just having a normal conversation in Chinese.

Jocelyn almost spit up her food when Lan mentioned her father. She quickly choked it down so she didn't make a fool of herself and listened intently. They had a lot in common. Fathers who were overbearing was just another thing and it made Jocelyn's cheeks flush. Maybe she could tell her about her father. How he was the biggest hypocrite on the planet. How he hated Jocelyn for not being a full blooded Chinese man and, yet, had an Australian wife he loved dearly.

But just as she was working up the courage to tell Lan, the girl pulled out some money. Jocelyn's eyes widened and she stared at the crumbled bills. She looked up from them to Lan and her body began to shake. This girl... she was just trying to humiliate her the whole time! She was just looking for the perfect excuse to make a complete fool of her.

Jocelyn stood up and slammed her hand against the pile of bills loudly. Probably loud enough to turn heads. "Who the fuck do you think I am!?" She screamed. "You think I'm some waltzin Matilda vagabond cunt!?" She growled. Her fingers curled her fingers around the money and whipped it at Lan's face. "I'm not some bad trot that needs a hand out! My father's a fuckin ambassador, you scungy poonce!"

Jocelyn growled. the fact that she had to pull that card pissed her off more than anything. Especially with Lan. She looked around and grabbed her half eaten pie and flung it at Lan.

<You don't belong in this league! You don't belong in this building or IN MY LIFE! I can't believe I almost...> Jocelyn stopped. Her cheeks were flushed red. She shook her head and stormed off, flipping off anyone who dared to give her an errant glance and puffing out her chest like she might just fight them right then and there.

Jocelyn kept berating her, but at least she wasnâ€t yelling. With any luck, maybe they could get past all of this awkwardness and start talking normally. Maybe they could become friends, or even close friends…it seemed like a long road to travel, but every time Lan looked at her fellow Chinese woman, she knew that was exactly what her heart wanted.

Just when she thought that they could have a pleasant conversation, however, Jocelyn crumpled up the bills that Lan had put on the table and tossed them in her face, screaming at her in Australian slang. Lan threw her hands up to defend her face, but could not stop the pot pie that Jocelyn threw at her next. It hit her right in the temple, and Lan lost her balance, tumbling off of her seat and down to the floor. Tears formed in her eyes and began to run down her cheeks as Jocelyn screamed at her one last time before storming off. All eyes were on Jocelyn as she left the cafeteria, and then, once she had gone, they turned to Lan. The Chinese girl looked around helplessly, and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.

Slowly, she got to her feet. A couple of girls approached her to see if she was okay, but she just waved them off, shaking her head when they asked if there was any way they could help. There was nothing they could do. This was a problem that Lan would have to figure out herself. She had to go after Jocelyn, and try to sort this out. It might be impossible—it seemed that every time they were beginning to get closer, something caused the Chistralian woman to pull away. But Lan would destroy herself with guilt if she didnâ€t try to find a way.

She dashed out of the cafeteria, her long, thin legs carrying her quickly down the hall, trying to catch up with Jocelyn and talk with her. She hoped that the girl had not gotten far.

The solid click of her heels punctuated Allison Watson's every step. At just over six feet tall, in suede designer heels and a tasteful navy blue dress with a snug bodice and tea-length skirt, a small emerald and gold flower pinned in her blond hair and a sheer rose-colored scarf around her neck, she presented an imposing figure as she strode purposefully down the AFW halls.

One hand swung forward and back at her side, like the pendulum of a finely tuned clock. The other rested on top of her small, black, exquisitely vintage Chanel purse. Her eyes remained singularly focused ahead, as they always did, hardly taking notice of any of the others she passed, until one could not escape her notice.

Yi Lan, the blonde-haired, spiritless little chinese girl from the salon. She appeared distraught and in a hurry, and she was covered in somebody's lunch. It was a revolting site, and Allison instantly loved it. She stopped in front of her and greeted her with a pleasant smile and her silky, anesthetic voice.

"You look as though you've had an interesting day, darling. I see you've had some trouble managing the cafeteria. I can't blame you, I don't think I'd be able to keep that food down either."

Lan did not find the shorter, dark-haired, quick-to-temper girl that she had run out of the cafeteria following. Instead, she ran into a tall, blonde-haired Briton, dressed to kill in heels and a stunning navy blue dress. Lan looked up and saw the smile on Allisonâ€s lips. She shivered. The spa owner had been so nice to her at first, but, right at the end of their first encounter, some of the things she had said had given Lan a very different picture of her. If the Chinese girl was the belligerent type, she might have chewed Allison out right here in the corridor. As it was, Lan merely winced as she heard the womanâ€s condescending, saccharine-sweet voice, shying away from her for a second before, steeling herself, planting her feet firmly on the floor and looking Allison directly in her mesmerizing green eyes, arms and legs trembling, tears still streaming down her face.

“W…w-which way did Jiao—uh, Jocelyn—go?” she asked desperately. “Please, I…I just n-need to find her. I r-r-really d-donâ€t have time to…to talk…but I just need to f-find her…” Her hands clenched into fists, which she pounded against her own sides. Her eyes trailed down to the floor. “D-did you see her? Do you know where…where she would be? P-please…?”

Lan was so amusingly pathetic that a part of Allison's smile even became genuine, at least with her lips. Her emerald eyes were incapable of it. They always pierced her subject with the same hunter's gaze, like a cat assessing it's prey, like she was only stayed from a kill because she was not hungry at the moment.

But the rest of her face was such a good actress. She tilted her head sympathetically at the distraught little girl. "Why are you crying?" She asked. "I've a feeling that many of your problems are tied together with the answer. Do tell, perhaps I can help."

Lan looked up at Allison, whimpering, blubbering, her lips quivering as she tried to regain her composure. The taller blonde womanâ€s face seemed so sympathetic…except for her eyes. Her eyes scared Lan, and made the Chinese girl feel wish she were a turtle so that she could just withdraw into her shell and wait for this big, blonde predator to go prey upon something else. But she wasnâ€t a turtle. She couldnâ€t do anything. She was too meek even to run away.

“Why?” she repeated, her fists unclenching and falling limply, impotently at her sides. She tilted her head as she looked up at Allison. The rest of the womanâ€s face looked so sincere. Lan could almost believe that she really wanted to help…but hadnâ€t she been playing her in just this same way before, back at the spa?

Hadnâ€t she? It hadnâ€t simply been Lanâ€s imagination. That was impossible. Right?

Right?

“I…just n-n-need to find J-Jocelyn,” she explained. “She ran off…y-y-you know her, right? W-where would she go? I n-need to catch up with her…and t-tell her…” She sniffled, choking back a sob. “…Iâ€m s-s-sorry…”

"Mm hm," Allison nodded slowly. "And you'll have to clean yourself up, as well. There's nothing you could possibly have done to her that would be worse than this state you're in right now."

For a moment, she thought to tell the girl to give up and go home, that she clearly wasn't cut out to be anywhere near someone like Jocelyn. But then she began to think of the possibilities if she were to find Jocelyn. Maybe it would be in her best interest to put the two of them together again.

Of course, she hadn't any idea where Jocelyn was at the moment. "I'm afraid I can't help you with that. A piece of advice... stay away from little Lu Jiao. Find yourself a friend who's a bit more delicate, yes? Like yourself."

She turned and strode past Yi Lan without hesitation. "Au revoir, ma petite souris."

Lan had been almost certain that Allison would know where Jocelyn was. She was expecting some sort of answer, even if it turned out to be untrue. But she had not been expecting Allison to simply tell her that she was out of luck. That threw Lan for a loop. The Chinese girl wobbled on unsteady legs, taking a step back as Allison warned her that Jocelyn was not the sort of girl that she should be associating with. That she should find a friend who was more delicate.

And then, just like that, Allison was gone. Lanâ€s mouth hung open, lips quivering, but no sound came out. She turned to watch the tall, blonde European woman disappear down the corridor. Her appearance had been so brief, Lan could almost have convinced herself that she had never been there at all—that she had just been a figment of her imagination. She dispelled that thought quickly, but still, she didnâ€t know what to think of what Allison had said.

She looked around. No sign of which way Jocelyn had gone. Despairing, Lan would step over to the wall and slide down it, sitting down on the floor and burying her head in her hands. She was not prepared for this at all. It was like she had never swum before, and here she had dove right into the deep end of the pool. And now she was drowning.