Tevun-Krus #86 - International V: LovePunk

Loveless in The Leo Republic - A Short Story by @GlennLeung

Loveless in The Leo Republic

by GlennLeung

Three years ago (Jacob)

"The government has no right to make us love!"

My voice off the megaphone didn't seem to have the effect I'd wanted. I suppose that's what you get when you're trying to scream your lungs out in the open. Being banned from the mall meant the late morning heat of The Leo Republic sapped away the energy of my words. The only ones listening to me were teenagers heckling their hearts out.

"Surrender to the SDU, you nerd! You know, 'cos you're single, desperate, and ugly!"

"Get bent! Ya loveless freak!"

That first insult was getting far too old, and the second one hit a little too close to home. Sure, it's my mother's maiden name, but unfortunate coincidences have no sympathy for family heritage. I did my best to ignore them, like how everyone else was ignoring me. My thoughts and feelings weren't going to shout themselves.

"We have more than enough love in Leo! It is completely unnecessary and cruel to mandate love! We do not deserve to be bound to another person for the rest of our lives. We deserve to be free to explore the limits of our individuality! Tell the government to repeal the Passion Act!"

A few young couples had gathered nearby. A big man and a smaller woman began making out while two skinny men cuddled each other. With public displays of affection the norm, many have turned to these ironic acts of mocking. I was thinking of saying something to them when two uniformed policemen appeared around the corner, walking briskly towards my makeshift podium.

"Mr Tan, you don't have the permission to speak here," said the shorter one. The taller, heavier-set one began reaching for his baton. I wouldn't have stood a chance.

***

In the land-scarce Leo Republic, living in a tight-knit eight-storey building was a luxury. What's more, we lived on the eighth floor, meaning no tap-dancing neighbours or brontosauruses to deal with. Even so, my Dad, Tan Yew Hock, always seemed ill and cranky. Sure, his wife had passed away, but that was two years ago; even I had gotten over it. I was losing count of the times he called me by my full name, so when he said it again the instant I got home, my mind nearly tuned it out.

"Jacob Loveless Tan!" he said, holding an envelope lined with glaring cyan borders. "You got letter from SDU. I fink' they say 'happy birthday' and get a wife. You wan' or not?"

Dad still spoke the creole of yesteryear, the one that the government has been trying so hard to discourage. Like me, my father is a rebel in his own way, believing that the creole was something central to our national identity. The government, however, thinks that it makes us sound crass. 'Who we trying to impress?' he would say. 'After alien attack, we are already wurl's most powerful country. We need sound good for wat?'. Given all this, you would think that he'd be a little more supportive of my campaigns, but no; he wanted blood grandkids and he wanted them soon. With my sister marrying a woman from work, I was the only one he could pin his hopes on.

"I got tell you many times! Just because you are Loveless, doesn't mean you have to be loveless!"

"Aiyah, Pa!" I replied in the creole with the hopes of appeasing him quickly. "Just because government say doesn't mean they are correct, right? You also know, wat?"

I took the letter and stormed off to my room while he returned to the sofa for more television. I was now faced with another knotty decision: what should I read first? The letter? Or comments on the internet?