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 Category:  Supernatural Fan Fiction
  Posted: June 25, 2018      Views: 371
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I write for the believers, the non-believers, and the true believers.

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Chapter 8 of the book Demons, Heroes and Fortune Cookies
There are things better said than unsaid
"The Fortune Pt.1" by Cybertron1986

Settling into the dormitories, El talks with Daniel, his roommate, who introduces Asian dining and palm reading. El learns a little of his heritage and his destiny.

Slowly, the sun slips between the Pacific's edge where the horizon ends. Reflecting against the fading sunset, a bridge illuminates in a majestic glow giving emphasis to the name 'Golden Gate.'

Like an orchestra, the metropolis sitting against the estuary's edges combusts into a symphony of lights upon the touch of night.

From afar, the lights rhythmically mimic the motions of a mechanical system of arteries fused into an opened chest of a concrete robot gazing at the overcast of clouds from below.

Looking deeper into one of the thousand moving lights on Interstate 280, is a red, two door Civic. By all standards it is the perfect fuel efficient, commuter car for frugal University students.

Inside, the cassette stereo plays the song, "In the Air Tonight." It changes into Tupac's "Rearview Mirror," a variation.

Abruptly, the tune ends as Daniel hastily parks inside a garage on the outskirts of San Francisco's Chinatown.

A brief walk leads Daniel and Eu El into a nearby restaurant, where a lively atmosphere of customers are surrounded with the aroma of freshly steamed dumplings and roasted pork.

With each passing second, measured by the ticking hand of a dusty wall clock, a continuous chatter of Mandarin brings Daniel back to the comforting feel of Taipei's nightlife.

However, El sits with his back hunched. He looks out of place as his newly highlighted hair breaks the traditional, natural black standard of the time, catching more attention than the blue ESPIRIT sweater he has worn since junior college.

"El," Daniel, suppresses his laughter from across the table. "Before I ask, I want to tell you..."

Struggling to grasp a single steamed shrimp dumpling with chopsticks, El glances back at Daniel, who skillfully snatches his dumpling as it falls mid-air almost splashing into the small plate of soy sauce below.

"Out of all the Asians I met, you're the only one who has the worst chopstick skills. Not to mention," Daniel continues, "you're the only guy in the human race who carries a picture of *Andrew Ridgeley in his wallet."

"Why wouldn't I carry a picture of Andrew Ridgeley? Imagine where the world would be without him?"

"Seriously, El. Andrew himself wouldn't carry an old picture like that. Other than his driver's license, he wouldn't be found dead with that picture."

El gradually becomes irritated. He defends his perception of normalcy with an unexpected fact that could only be known in the thoughts of a child who grew up in the eighties.

"If it wasn't for Andrew Ridgeley, 'Last Christmas' would never had been written, and the world would had succumbed to the replay of cheesy Christmas songs."

Daniel laughs louder, "That song is almost as old as eight-track players."

A sour note subtly plays in their conversation.

"I find that equally insulting as comparing me to a fortune cookie," El confesses.

"Insulting?!" Daniel looks confused. "Dude, I just finished translating how to cut your hair into an unknown Andrew Ridgeley's style from 1982, to a non-English speaking Chinese barber! THAT was embarrassing!"

"That picture came in handy, didn't it?! She had no clue how to properly highlight my bangs without my picture."

"Of course she wouldn't have known. Nowadays, barbers aren't supposed to cut hairstyles from FIFTEEN years ago! You should have told me beforehand you had that picture. I sounded stupid translating something that CAN'T be explained in Mandarin!"

"It was fourteen years. Not fifteen," El corrects, oblivious to Daniel's embarrassment.

"Anyways, it was interesting to hear you describe how to highlight hair in the style of Andrew Ridgeley while speaking Chinese. It sounded like a whining grandmother singing a rap song," El adds as he gives up on the chopsticks.

El grabs a fork. In one motion, he stabs into two shrimp dumplings at the same time.

"El! Slow down!" Daniel shouts loud enough to turn a few customer heads their direction. "These aren't chicken nuggets, okay?"

Using chopsticks, Daniel effortlessly steals one of the dumpling from El's fork as if to mock his lack of skill. "Anyways, embrace it, El. It's your destiny. You ARE a genuine 'Fortune Cookie.'"

"Why do you call me that?"

Daniel's question seems to be presented with the intention to deliver a subtle insult toward El's unique background.

El continues, "What does that even mean?"

"Where do you think fortune cookies come from, El?"

"They're from Panda Express," El replies confidently.

Daniel, loses his patience. "There's no mistake. You ARE American as a fortune cookie!"

The book continues with The Fortune Pt.2. We will provide a link to it when you review this below.

Author Notes
This is a developing novel. For those just reading this specific chapter, please note that there are previous chapters prior to this. Yes, there are paranormal intrigue involved that will later be presented. However, if you would like to know what Eu El is facing, then please read chapter six.

*Andrew Ridgeley was the co-member of the popular '80s band, "WHAM!" He partnered with George Michael and co-wrote one of the most unforgettable pop songs for Christmas entitled, "Last Christmas" in 1984.
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