It was a beautiful morning for a flight. The rising sun colored the sky pink, and clouds parted gently between my fingers. As my heart slowed to a steady, peaceful rhythm, I increased my speed and let my long hair stream out behind me. There was nothing that could make me feel better in this place. Nothing that could lead to my discovery. A lovely smile warmed my face as I closed my eyes.

This time I wasn't going to come down. I'd found my paradise. I'd found my serenity.

until...

A fire poured down from above, a thousand screams ripped the skies apart. I tried to hide my head and get back to the ground, but I knew what was about to happen.

Many times previously, the dragon had attacked.

I ducked and rolled through the smoking clouds, dodging molten streams of death, until all at once, the beast was upon me. And it was MASSIVE! My eyes widened to terrified saucers as I gazed up in sick horror. The monster opened its mouth, almost like it was smiling at me. But just as it drew up a final breath to smite me once and for all—

—it turned into a puzzle and dissolved into a million pieces.

Wait…what?

As particles of plaster and dust misted from above, I peeled open my eyelids and squinted up at the ceiling. The rafters shook with a predicted sliding thunk, and I covered my face with a sigh. Mr. Liyu was doing Zumba a little earlier today than normal. My alarm hadn’t even gone off.

Then it went off

“You are going to be late again. You silly, irresponsible guy. You are going to be late.”

Talk about the devil. It began to recite the same line over and over. I slapped the top of the clock against the wall and cursed the cosmic forces once again for putting me in this place. It wasn't simple to find a place to live in Beijing, China that was both affordable and convenient. Certain dreadful compromises had to be made. Mr. Liyu early morning Zumba class was just the beginning. There were also insects, gas leaks, police helicopters, and the stink of urine baking up from the sidewalks. But what about my reoccurring dragon dream...?

To be honest, I had no godly idea how that fit in.

With an undignified thud, I shimmied out of bed and landed on the ground. My industrial-grade fan—aka "my personal savior," aka did I mention there was no air conditioning?—shot all my hair back like a shock, and I quickly angled it away with my toe as I pushed myself up to full height and cast a wary glance into the mirror.

It had to be this when they said they were "trying to make it in Beijing." I felt like the poster guy.

Short auburn hair, pale creamy skin, a lovely face, and a svelte figure I'd be a stunner, a star in any other place. But, for whatever reason, I was one in a million in this metropolis built on the parking tickets and rent traps of other small-town celebrities. And not in a positive sense.

I leaned in with a familiar sigh to see what the damage was today. Eyes were red, but not puffy. Dark rings were beginning to fade. After a night of excessive drinking, it's not horrible. On the other hand, what about my liver? It was preferable better not to think about it.

It seems like there had been a lot of these nights recently. My roommate Xiaoyan and I had begun it as a ritual. We would get together over a bottle of tequila and turn on a Netflix fest as we wallowed and swallowed our grief every time we didn't get a part we auditioned for (this included being turned away from the casting beforehand because the coveted two-line role had been filled sometime in the six hours we were standing in line), and every time we didn't get a part we auditioned for (this included getting turned away from the casting beforehand because the coveted two-line role had.

It was honestly quite enjoyable. Much more enjoyable than standing in line for hours at the castings. Xiaoyan wasn't having as much fun as I was, as evidenced by a muffled retching from the bathroom.

As I walked out into the corridor, I slipped on a pair of scrubs and grabbed my Chapstick. My cat, Dubu, trotted past me, following a Tasmanian twister of dust sent up by my fan. As I walked to the bathroom, I tripped over his knobby back, causing him to yowl.

“I apologize, dubu. I'll tell you what. I'll go get some milk for you.” On a dish, I poured a smidgeon of milk and placed it on the floor. “Do you think I'm forgiven?”

He purred. I gave him a kiss on the head and leaned in to listen to him purr. He was a stray that I found. I had no idea if he had been in an accident, but we all adored him nonetheless. He may be grouchy at times, but it only added to our affection for him.

After pulling on my shoe, I knocked softly on the door. “You okay in there?”

A half-strangled gurgling noise answered me. Something that actually sounded uncannily like our cat. The toilet flushed, the sink ran, and a second later, I heard Xiaoyan slide down against the other side of the door.

“That was the last time,” he moaned. “I’m serious.”

“Yep,” I agreed, as I was certainly expected to. “Well, I’m off to work, okay?”

“How can you even think about work at a time like this?”

I rolled my eyes with a grin. The predictable answer of a spoiled cul-de-sac prince.

“I love it,” I answered bitingly. “I wish I could be there all the time.”

He snorted on the other side of the door. I could almost picture him laying his clammy cheek against the cool tiles on the floor. It was a comfort move both of us had done many, many times. It was also the reason we kept the bathroom impeccably clean.

“Was that Deevus that wailed earlier?”

“Yep.” I pulled on my other shoe. “I gotta go—I’m going to be late.”

“Did you get that guy’s phone number last night? He was hot.”

I blew out a long breath.

“Did you mess it up again?” she asked.

“No. Well, kind of. I started talking about how upset I was that Mr. Liyu had taken such a bad turn. I guess it was too deep for him. But I’m worried about the woman. She’s been my patient for months and we’ve grown quite close. She might not make it to next week. I’m so worried about her.”

“Talking about death isn’t the way to go when you first meet someone.”

I bit my lip hard. “You’re probably right.”

“You’re working in hospice. You know these people are near the end. And it’s great that you give them so much love and support, but you have to be able to let go.”

“I get so attached to every single one of my patients.”

“I know you do. And that’s why you need an understanding man. I’m going to find you the most understanding and compassionate man in all of Beijing.”

“There will be no more blind dates.”

“I swear, this one is going to be different. What are your thoughts? There's Edward there. He still lives with his mother, but he's such a sweetheart.”

“Late,” I remarked once more. “On my way home, I'll stop by the store, do you need anything?”

“Yes and no.” He stomped his foot against the closed door. “Wait, yes. Get some more of those caramel things from the store that we had last week. “The ones in the shape of a frog?”

I nodded absently while typing on my phone. “Frogs. You've got it. Okay, I've got to get going.” I slammed the door shut with my hand.

“I'll see you tonight if you feel better.” When he called weakly to me halfway out, I was halfway out.

“Zhefan?”

I took a breather. “Yeah?”

“Add tequila to the mix.”

“It was already there.”

To get to the Beijing Nursing Hospital where I work, I only had to take one train and one bus. It was surrounded on one side by a grove of covered trees and a million home-brewed coffee shops, and on the other side by Fortune 500 companies.

Despite Xiaoyan's ranting, I was able to catch the early bus, allowing me to visit one of my favorite shops before my shift began at ten o'clock.

A combination of designer dogs and tied bicycles dotted the sidewalk. As I skirted around something that I'm sure would have been named a 'labra-doodle-retriever-pug,' I smiled to myself. One of the reasons I like working in Beijing was because of this. A safe haven where the two sides may meet for a simple cup of coffee. There was no need for class conflict when everyone just wanted to get some caffeine, right? Both the poodles and the Schwinns had adequate room on the sidewalks.

I strolled right into a battle with this abnormally upbeat attitude.

“I don’t care what kind of hurry you’re in, just move the damn car!”

I stiffened in my seat and stared in disbelief at the two men who stood in front of me. One of them had to be a maintenance worker of some sort. He was dressed in a plain slate-colored uniform with a smudged name tag and excessive facial hair. He was still fiddling with his keys, and based on the way he was double-parked near a town vehicle, I assumed he had just abandoned his truck and dashed out into the sidewalk.

The man opposite from him, on the other hand, was a different story.

Everything about him was razor-sharp and razor-sharp. Everything about him was stiff, from his suit to his hair to the way he clenched the muscles in his angular jaw. His hands were empty, and despite the fact that the maintenance worker appeared to have easily resigned from a career in the UFC, his fingers trembled as if he was itching for a battle. On each hand, there are two silver rings. And, believe it or not, a set of fucking diamond-studded cufflinks.

I'm sure he hailed from an affluent family, lived in a spacious mansion, and even had hired help.

I assumed the town car belonged to him.

“Look.”

I could have sworn I saw the man’s eye twitch beneath his heavily tinted sunglasses.

“I’m not trying to make waves, but I was already parked by the time you pulled up behind me. It’s not your spot!”

“Already parked?” A pair of work gloves was hurled to the ground. “Already parked, my ***! You swerved up out of nowhere and took my spot!”

Mr. Ralph Lauren just calmly smiled. “You can have the spot in five minutes. I’m just running in for a quick coffee.”

“Think I’m going to let you out, you stuck-up shallow prick?” he shouted. “I’ll block your car in. I’ll make you late for work. What are you going to do? Call a tow truck? I’ll **** you up, asshole!”

An ongoing dispute over a parking space? Seriously? I needed to step in. A fight like this could go from 0-100, real quick. The maintenance guy was on the verge of total system failure. As a health-care professional, I was worried the throbbing vein in the side of his neck might actually explode. Either that or he might just run up and take a bite out of rich boy’s face.

Both interesting possibilities, from a “my first fight” perspective. But both definitely implied me being late for work. The boring pacifist in me kicked into gear, and before they could launch into some serious sixth-grade name calling, I stepped in between.

“Hey, hey there! Calm down!”

Maybe it was because of how ridiculously disappointing my little bird-like frame looked, bringing up two twiggy arms to either of their chests, but both men took a large step back after one look at me. A rush of pleasure rushed through my veins, and it was all I could do not to smile. Maybe it was because of how fucking badass I was!

Zhefan, keep your cool. Here's where you're supposed to come across as cool and heroic.

With the seriousness of a seasoned investigator, I removed my sunglasses. “What appears to be the issue here?”

The wealthy man began to talk, but I purposely switched my attention to his opponent. I noticed that the maintenance man, Xiaogui, had turned the color of boiling shrimp on his tag.

“The problem is, this guy cut me off with his damn town car!” Xiaogui said.

“Not me.” The man held up his hands and blew out a long breath. “My driver. Listen, I would love to chat about this more, but I’m late for a very important meeting.”

“Your driver?” Xiaogui took another threatening step forward. “I swear, you rich son of a bitch. I have half a mind to—”

“Listen,” I cut him off soothingly. A bit of a crowd had begun to gather and I was suddenly worried that when the fun was over, they might start pouring into my coffee shop and I would never get to work on time.

Another maintenance worker stepped next to his buddy. “Nothing says, ‘I’m a prick’ like a town car and a sixty-dollar haircut.”

There was a muffled reaction next to me, but I ignored it.

“I hear you,” I said, trying to calm both of them before a riot broke out. “But let me tell you what, why don’t we get inside and I’ll buy Xiaogui an espresso just for keeping the peace?”

I threw in a wink for good measure and watched as Xiaogui's coloration returned to normal.

“Make it a double,” he muttered, but he marched obediently inside.

I defused a bomb! He shoots, He scores! First no dark circles, and now this? I’m on a roll today!

The crowd around me cheered. I took a small bow, and a man let out a long whistle. Was this what fame felt like?

“Way to go!” a woman shouted.

“That was so sweet of you!”

“Paying it forward,” another man said.

“You rock!” somebody shouted.

Maybe Xiaogui should find a proper parking spot. He wasn’t going to stay double-parked, was he? Oh, well. At least I stopped the fight. Practically glowing with my accomplishment, I started to follow Xiaogui when a cool voice suddenly made me turn.

“Don’t I get an espresso?”

My automatic rebuke was delayed for a second or two as I lost myself in the rich man's dark eyes.

Oh, my goodness. The guy was extremely stunning. I was taken aback by how hot he was, and I couldn't say anything.

“Please accept my apologies.” I instantly shook my head and resumed my focus to the man.

“What?”

See, I'd been thinking about seas.

He cocked his head to the side, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “Didn't I say I'd get an espresso?”

I returned my gaze to his driver, who had finally exited the vehicle and was staring at him with tense anticipation. Cufflinks, again! Even the assistance made me want to rip out my hair.

After the dark-eyes magic had worn off, I put on my real spectacles. “You're running late for a crucial meeting. “You stated as much.” I grinned as my gaze returned to his driver. “After all, you can clearly afford it.”

He smiled back at me as I turned to go inside the shop. As a champion for the common man, the crowd parted in solidarity appreciation and it was only a few moments before I made it up to the counter.

My favorite barista, Chengguang, was already flying around, setting a timer here, sprinkling cinnamon there, but he looked up and smiled when he saw me.

“Morning, Zhefan, the usual?”

I sank my elbows down onto the counter, gazing bleakly at the latest pop star’s new Thanksgiving album.

“Yep. Oh, and let me get that guy Xiaogui too.” I pointed to the maintenance worker and he smiled.

“You got it.”

I pulled out a ten and waited as he bustled around. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the rich man walk into the café and take his place at the back of the line. A faint blush rose up in my cheeks and I kept my eyes front. These cinematic takedowns were always best when you could make a clean getaway afterward. And the elevator music wasn’t helping.

“You and Xiaoyan miss another casting?” Chengguang asked when he returned, carrying two steaming drinks. “You look tired.”

I handed him my cash. “I just haven’t been

sleeping that well.”

He frowned as he handed me back my change. “The dragon dream again?”

“Yes!” I leaned over the counter excitedly, eager to commiserate. “I don’t know what’s going on, but every time it gets close to me, it suddenly—”

“Hey! You in the scrubs!” An impatient voice called out from the line. “Some of us have to get to work.”

I threw back a glare in their general direction. Just like that, my adoring crowd had turned on a dime. Fame was a fickle friend.

“I’ll tell you later,” I said with exaggerated importance to Chengguang, “I have to get to work.”

I scooped up my mocha-chino with all the dignity I could muster and walked out of the café with my head held high. I could feel the rich guy staring at me as I swept past him out the door, but I kept my eyes on the sidewalk. With my luck, I’d probably trip or something right as I tried to deliver a last one-liner to seal the deal.

It was only a short walk from the coffee shop to the hospice center where I worked, which was located within the grove. As I tipped my change into the hands of the elderly homeless man who had set up residence beneath one of the palms, half a dozen obese birds crowded about me.

I was feeling pretty damn good about myself by the time I walked through the door.

“Morning, Zhefan.” My overworked supervisor Shigu gave me a tired smile as I swept up to the front counter to sign in. “You look…peppy?”

I flashed her an overly animated smile. “Just performed a virtual citizen’s arrest at our local coffee shop. You know keeping the city safe.”

“Uh huh,” she answered vaguely, hearing but not listening as she browsed through some papers. “Well, here we go. Mr. xukun in 308 needs a blood sugar reading.” Yeah, I was trained to do some stuff nurses do.

“Mrs. Kao is refusing to take a shower, oh and here’s one you’ll like Mrs. Lu in 207 insists that her family is driving across the country right now to see her. She’s been making a Welcome banner all morning.”

Shigu gave me a stack of job assignments that had to be done before I left as she clocked out with a huge smile.

“Um…thanks.”

She winked. “Good luck.” Then she was gone.

Needless to say, by 10:05, my adrenaline rush had worn off. I paced from room to room, making the same circles and seeing the same faces I'd seen before. Don't get me wrong: I like my job. It's only that I'd been at the same institution for over three years and had hoped to have landed an acting job by now. Hospice was not intended to be a long-term solution. Patients were separated into two groups: those who had been pushed out of the health-care system and were temporarily utilizing us as a recovery center owing to budget cuts, and those who came here to die rather than recover.

In any case, no matter how many individuals you met, you wouldn't have known them for very long.

Xiaoyan would often inquire about it. He couldn't fathom how I could spend my entire life surrounded by death and dying. I was the person in the patient's life who would provide palliative end-of-life care till they died. And I wanted to make their final days as pleasant as possible. I wanted to be that dependable and nurturing presence, assisting patients and their families in regaining their dignity. But no matter how many ways I tried to describe it, she'd always say it sounded like something out of a Stephen King novel and demand that we move on to something else.

Mrs. Lu, a woman I'd spoken to every day for the previous eight months, asked me my name when I pushed open a door.

When I finally got home and pushed shut the door of the apartment, Xiaoyan sprang up to greet me like he hadn’t been imitating The Walking Dead all morning.

“How was work?” he asked cheerfully.

I pulled off my scarf and let my purse fall to the floor. I handed him the bag with the stuff he had asked me to buy.

“Work was fine.” I felt like I’d given him the same answer to the same question for the last thousand years. It was definitely time for a change. “I got thrown up on.”

“That’s awesome!” he exclaimed, blatantly tuning out everything I was going to say as he waited impatiently for his own turn to speak.

I stifled a smile as he bounced a foot up and down, his heavily charcoaled eyes bursting with excitement. “Why, Xiaoyan, how was your day?”

“I GOT A CALLBACK!” he shrieked.

My mouth fell open, and he danced from side to side like a deranged bobblehead.

“I know! It was for that dystopian Western thing. I’m going to be…” he paused for dramatic effect, “Hot Ranch Chick Number Seven.” he pulled the tequila out of the bag and smiled. “I’m going to celebrate with this! I can’t believe I got this gig!”

“That’s amazing,” I breathed, imagining the possibilities. “And to think, I could have been number eight.”

“No, their quota for boys was filled,” he said practically. “To be number eight, you’d have to be white.”

“Oh.” I mulled this over for a second before saying, “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks! And thanks for stopping by the store.”

“Not a problem. Oh my gosh!” I suddenly remembered. “I saw a fight today!”

“Wow,” he raised his eyebrows, looking impressed. “Your first genuine fisticuffs. What was it about? Was it gang-related?”

“It was over a parking spot,” I said impressively. “Well, actually I stopped it before they came to blows…but I’m sure it was headed that way.”

He gave me a long look. “So you finally see the makings of a fight, a long-standing life ambition, but you stop it before it can actually get there?”

I felt as though I literally deflated. “...yeah, I guess so.”

He patted me sympathetically on the shoulder. “Come on, I ordered chicken.”

“Thank you. I’m starving!”

I followed him into the kitchen and was shocked to discover an elaborate setup. He’d pulled out our finest silverwear, and for once, we weren’t eating on paper plates. There was even a chipped tea light or two for ambiance.

“What the—”

He clicked a button and Florence and the Machine started screeching in the background.

My eyes narrowed and I turned to him suspiciously. “All this for Hot Ranch Chick Number Seven?”

“Well, not exactly.” Anxious and excited, he pulled out a chair and shoved me down in a way he obviously took to be endearing. “The thing is, Zhefan… I actually got the two of us a gig. But it has nothing to do with hot ranch chicks.”

“Really? That’s wonderful.”

“It is, and it isn’t.”

I cocked a brow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we don’t get paid like normal.” he grinned as I frowned. “But it’s great for our image. And we have the potential to meet some big names. And we can earn a big bonus by mentioning the agency. If we bring in work, we get a big, fat bonus. Think of this as fun work. We’re going to a party! And it’s tonight!”

“A party?”

“Who doesn’t want to party on a Friday night? I’ll tell you more” he said. “They’re getting us all fixed up!”

“Who?”

“You just got to trust me. Now come on. It’s time to go primp! Of course, after we eat this wonderful meal I got us.”

I laughed. “We’re not eating on paper plates, so that’s five star dining to me.”

“Not to mention, we’re not using plastic forks.”