No, but seriously, don't judge. I don't know where the hell this came from O,,O

idk why you guys are, but thanks for reading!!!!! *hearteu*

Luhan was desperate.

He had fled his oppressive little town and sailed through the pacific ocean, determined to find who-knows-what in this land of the free. I should've just moved into the city a few miles away from home, he thought with regret, overwhelmed by the changes around him.

The taxicab he took had left with one of his twenty American dollar bills, and had left him in a rural looking town with a lot of dirt surrounding, well, everything.

He didn't know the language being spoken, but could only assume it was English. As he walked through the dirt street, he noticed how all around him there was a variety of people, some very light skinned, and others very dark skinned. Usually, people appreciated diversity, but Luhan had never learned how to, his little hometown having only been home to similar skin-toned people, except for the occasional tourist that grabbed everyone's attention. He supposed that he was now the tourist.

He stumbled into what appeared to be a bar, full of bigger, older men, some even with large mustaches and leather coats. In truth, he was intimidated as by everyone, but his pride didn't let him turn back the way he had come. He prayed that no drunkard would have the urge to come up to him and start a brawl or something. He already felt lost enough without having his face ruined or his body bruised. But maybe he had watched one too many movies. People didn't really do that, right?

In his extremely limited English, he tried to order water. The barista looked really confused at first, which Luhan wrote off as the guy not understanding his ty pronunciation.

"Agua? Quieres agua?" *Water? Do you want water?* He lifted up what looked like a bottle of water and Luhan hesitantly nodded, taking it. He opened it and sniffed it carefully, making sure it was actually water and not some undercover alcohol. He didn't miss the judgmental and slightly offended look the barista gave him. Luhan stored the word 'agua' in his memory, finding it interesting how the English language had more than one word for water. These Americans - no, all English speakers - are always complicating everything, Luhan thought condescendingly.

He couldn't help but find it weird that he hadn't seen many blonde and blue-eyed people so far. From the little he had seen of American culture through movies, blondes were a common sight, but he had only seen maybe one or two since his arrival.

Luhan wondered what the little town he found himself in was called, and if he could find a way to communicate with the people here. He pulled out his phone and started translating a phrase into English.

What town am I in? He typed into the translator and converted the phrase into English.

"Hey," he called to the barista in a bad accent.

"Que se le ofrece?" *What would you like?* He said as he walked over to Luhan.

He turned his phone to face the barista, letting him read the words instead of reading them out loud himself, not wanting to slaughter the phrase on the screen the way only he could.

The confusion on the other's face passed onto Luhan's. Did the guy not know the language even though he was living in this English-speaking country? How shameful. How did he even work and communicate with the general population? If Luhan lived here for good, he would make it his priority to fluently read, write, and speak the tongue.

"Señor, yo no hablo Inglés. No puede traducirlo al Español, por favor?" *Sir, I don't speak English. Could you translate it to