Why Don't We : A Fan's Wish

CHAPTER I -New York and Dreams

Chapter  I

  I don't like this place at all.

  Bustling streets, honking cars, the classic yellow cabs, the high-end dealer store signs that stare down at you as you walk by, probably judge you harder if you dare walk in.

  Seriously, the golden Prada sign is staring into my soul.

  Devilish hard.

  Every store I walked by is a good reminder of the greatness of the American dollar.

  "It's 4 to 1."said the American dollar to the Malaysian Ringgit. Then it punched everyone who owned a smaller currency.

  Yet we still fall to our knees and open our mouths and cry at its mercy. It still is the most famous currency in movies. The type they burn or spend in chunks and bricks and suitcases of.

  And it is one of the reasons why I'm here.

  I felt my bag being brushed against and it falls down my shoulder. I catched it before it hits the ground.

  I had enough. This is the 4th time someone bumped into me.

  The man who just brushed into me turns around and gives me a despising look, his mouth opening to make an unpleasant sound. He is wearing a suit and tie like he is rushing somewhere.

  "Tsk."

  I could chuck my bag at him.

  But I don't.

  People are just plain rude.

  I just slid my bag up, this time both slings up my shoulder give him an apologetic look and walk away faster.

  I walked faster than the people around me so nobody has the chance to bump into me again.

  I hate crowds. I hate the loud ubiquitous chattering in the streets. I hate the fact that you are surounded by strangers and every passing moment they judge you for every little thing you do. I hate the fact everyone treats me like a foreigner who came here to succumb and live with their first world problems and for their money. I hate the fact people look at me and straight up judge me like I don't speak English.

  I'm Asian, not Alien.

  I bet they would treat Aliens better.

  And very ironically, I love 5 Americans.

  5 to be more exact.

  Why don't we.

 
I held my bag strap tight as I keep walking. I can't stay in this place any moment more. The lack of oxygen is drowning me.

  I saw a familiar sign.

  I walked out of the crowd to a near Subway outlet.

  I got a 6' Marinara meatball and even get extra cheese.

  4 dollars. I stood in line and nod to myself.