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accismus - n. feigning disinterest in something while actually desiring it ©

The Red Dragon roared with all his might. “Who goes there?”

And the Panda stepped forward. “My name is Panda-Pillow.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I have come to visit the old angry dragon.”

---

“Hi, I’m Lay from SM ent, the Muse handling the Unicorns. I am here for the contract.” There standing at the front door was a boy—a man—in his early twenties, dressed primly in a large thick overhaul coat with large button openings and black leather boots to ward off the early November cold. With an easy polite smile on his face, he took out his identification badge to show his company’s logo—Seek Muses Enterprise—and made sure that his name and position was visible through the plastic cover. It would have been the usual basic formality were it not for the fact that the man, who had opened the door for Lay, was tilting his head to a strange angle, bushy eyebrows furrowed in concentration and eyes looking very confused. Lay glanced to his badge and realized it was held upside down. He sputtered in his own mind and smoothly turned his card to the actual side. “Sorry about that. I’m Lay. You’ve requested a Muse for your new Children’s book story, Mr… Wu Fan, I take it?”

Wu Fan’s mind ran into a few blank walls—Lay, Muse, SM ent, new children’s book story—until he slackened his jaw in forming the ‘ohhh’, the information not really sinking in. Although it took a moment for him to make his sleep-laden brain to actually realize that this person was here upon his request, Wu Fan nodded slowly and scrubbed his face with his hand. He must look like right now. Unshaven, pale faced with residue goo hanging on his eyelashes. He stepped aside and gestured for his guest to come in.

“Thank you.” Lay shuffled inside, kicking his boots at the front door and stepped out of them as soon as he closed the front door behind him. Wu Fan helped him out of the thick coat, gingerly putting it on the coat rack next to the door and then walked barefooted to the kitchen.

“Make yourself at home. Don’t touch anything, though.” Wu Fan gestured to the overall vicinity of the small living-room, not even bothering to look back if Lay was following him into the house. ”Anything to drink? All I have is some juice and coke. I take it you’re also not allowed to drink beer.”

“No, thank you.” Lay said his eyes already wandering around to form a basis of Wu Fan’s character—inner workings. The first thing a Muse on the job has to do was to get a grip on who the requester actually is. What kind of person was the requester?

Lay looked around to study the insides of the house, the haphazard sheets on the floor, the double work desk in the corner of the living room, the amount of colorful books lined up neatly in the bookcase wedged between the wall and a lazy seating chair, the large plasma TV in the center, the game consoles strewn in front and the clothes dumped in the center of the sofa set, forming a small bundle like a pillow. His working room, his bed room, his living-room—all in one. Wu Fan did not even bother to apologize for his messiness, as if he was comfortable in his skin, in his own home to show the world that ‘whatever, this is how he is—a slob, a hardworking slob with a job that inspires young minds.‘ Lay took a moment to study the small paintings and hand drawings on the walls. Colorful stick people. Strange animals with black ears and hats. Smiling suns with stickers. And many more, Lay leaned closer to read one of the inscriptions of the drawings, “ZiTao, age 6”. He then eyed the loveseat and wondered if he should sit without permission.

Wu Fan came back from the kitchen, one hand holding a cup of hot coffee, and the other a can of Pepsi. “Here.” He threw the can to Lay when their eyes met. “I know you said you didn’t want any, but I-” Wu Fan shrugged, “-you’re here. And this is force of habit.“

Lay easily caught the can with one hand. Any other day, his hand probably would have slipped. But not today. Today was work. He would be the smooth one. Except for the badge part. “Thanks.”

“Just sit anywhere you want.” Wu Fan lowered himself in the armchair near the bookcase, blowing over the rim of his cup as steam swirled from his cup. Deciding it was too hot, he placed the cup on the handy small dresser next to the armrest.

Lay nodded, looking around for a place to sit without disturbing anything and simply choose the loveseat, the one next to Wu Fan’s armchair. Lay decided it looked less lived-in compared to everything else in the room and unconsciously in his breath for an onslaught of angry words that may come his way. When none came, Lay breathed out softly and placed Pepsi on the armrest.

The personal notes he had gathered of this Wu Fan, pen name “Kenny Fan Fan”, included a small anecdote his boss had added at the last minute—do not instigate a fight with Mr. Wu Fan, he’s famous for his scary face and anger issues. But generally it was a rule that Muses should not get into a fight with anyone particular. To have an extra note in Lay’s report written by the big boss himself, Mr. Wu Fan was probably a very important case.

“So unicorns?” Wu Fan said blankly, staring at the shorter male in front of him as he rested his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. There were many things he was expecting from the Seek Muses Enterprise. Like maybe some fancy dressed person, with creative equipments bulging out of their coat. He had expected to see a young lady too or some older experienced ladies as a Muse. But a guy? An unassuming guy with an old coat. “Why Unicorns? Why of all departments, I take it the unicorns part is one of those… I don’t know departments? Why of all other departments, did SM ent send in the unicorns?”

“Unicorns are said to be creatures attracted to innocence and beauty. Your profession deals with one factor, the innocence. That is why I am assigned as your Muse for the time being.” Lay explained as he folded his hands on his lap.

“I thought they like beautiful girls. Not that I’m a girl or anything but… yeah… you get the idea.” Wu Fan scratched the underneath his chin. Need a shave. It’s starting to itch.

“That is one version of the Unicorn, of course, so yes.”

“I see… and shouldn’t Muses be women? No offense, but I thought traditionally, muses were portrayed as women.”

Lay nodded. “That’s right. My company did start out with only women as Muses. At times when they’re on extended leave or other family related business, there’s no one to fill in those vacancies temporarily. That’s why the company came up with alternatives. The guy Muse.” He motioned to himself. “If you want a female Muse, I can arrange that with my manager.” He added as an afterthought.

Wu Fan shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “No, it’s fine. I’m sure your manager has good reason for sending you to me. So how is this going to work? I’m not too familiar with how you Muses work. Do you sprinkle fairy dust in my face or something. I really hope you won’t do that. Because my eyes are sensitive. Or are you going sit next to me and tell me where the story should go?"

“For now?” Lay took out the small bag strap from around his shoulder, and pulled out a white folder. From Wu Fan’s side, he could only make out his penname written on the label and his occupation as a writer. “I’ve to draw out a contract with you. This is for legal purposes.”

“Obviously.”

“And we Muses do not randomly start throwing fairy dust in the air or in people’s faces. That’s impractical and against the company’s policy. Fairy dust is very expensive these days. We have to distribute it fairly and consistently. Besides—in order to make fairy dust work, the timing and the amount is important to consider. Too much will make you work in a frenzy and forget the ending. Too little will make you stop halfway and wonder why you’re doing this.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad… working in frenzy, I mean. More work done!”

Lay gave him a side-eyed glance. Neither impressed nor exasperated. “You’ll continue to work without stopping for food or sleep or even for a quick bathroom break, Mr. Wu Fan. After a week or two, you won’t even live to see the end of your book.”

“Oh.”

“Here is your contract. Information about how the Muse network source works and the terms of conditions are in this section. Our bond will start as soon as you sign the dotted line.” The Muse leaned over on the armrest to pass the folder to Wu Fan.

“Bond?” Wu Fan flipped open the folder and glanced at the first page.

“Yes. The bond between the requester and the Muse. Once you sign, it connects us together… mentally and… physically, I suppose.”

“Like merging?” Wu Fan said in horror, tearing his eyes away from reading the basic introductory paragraph. “We’re going to melt together? Or like having ?”

The shocked look on the Muse’s face made Wu Fan backtrack in his words. Oh. Not like that at all then. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to fill your ears with vulgarity.”

“It’s fine.” Lay fiddled with the strap of his bag. “The only way I can explain how a bond works is that… we’re going to be like… uhm… twin brothers wearing one pants.”

“I still don’t get it. But I’m sure everything is written right here in clear language, I take it.” Wu Fan lifted a brow as an inquiry to the folder.

Lay nodded, slipping on the strap over his head. “Are there any more questions you would like to know?”

“Not really. No, wait—do I have to sign it right away or not?”

“No, sir. The contract is valid for three weeks before it dissolves.”

“Oh that’s good to hear.”

“Then… good day, Mr. Wu Fan.”

“Yeah. Thanks. You too.” Wu Fan pushed himself off the couch and led Lay to the door.  

Getting a Muse comes with great responsibility. Wu Fan realized that after pouring through the contract more than once that night. It meant working together and taking care of the Muse until the end of the contract. Wu Fan was not sure of the term they used in the contract to describe the bond between him and his Muse. Cohabitation? Hosting? Telepathically connected? They didn’t really sound right. But one thing was sure; they were dependant of each other for Wu Fan’s new writing project. Lay would provide for the necessary ‘magic’ to make the story stand out while Wu Fan took care of the ‘food’ on which Lay could be sustained.

He stuffed the contract somewhere in the top drawer of his work desk and focused on his current work-in-progress plan.

---

Wu Fan tugged at his hair—it was getting a little longer these days—frowning at the blank page. He scratched his neck and played with his pen. He needed inspiration right now. Surfing the internet had distracted him for more than two hours. Looking through his older drawings made his mind go blank and wonder how the heck he had made it so far with these drawings. Checking his iPod music collection was even worse. Nothing but pain and dramatic love songs in a different language reached in his ears. He tried to doodle in the margins of the notebook—maybe a Pokémon or some fluffy stuffed creature. Or a patch of grass and some flowers.

His mind drew blanks. Nothing came up.
 

---

After a few days of aimlessly staring at a blank page, Wu Fan pulled out the top drawer again and peered inside at the contract. It’s decided then. He needed that fairy dust. Wu Fan took out the contract from the drawer and flipped it to the last page where the dotted lines were taunting him to sign. With a swirl of his wrist, he signed the contract.

A jolt of electricity suddenly shot through the veins of his fingers, burning hot. Wu Fan dropped the pen instantly.

The connection was complete.

---

This is Ace.

He is an alpaca and looks like a sheep.

His dream is to become famous.

---
 

Lay looked over Wu Fan’s shoulder. “Aren’t you going to start writing? It’s been two days since you started staring at your notebook.”

“I can’t. I don’t know what to write about.” Wu Fan cradled his head in his hands. “That’s why you’re here. Any other time I wouldn’t even bother asking for help.”

“Okay… tell me you’ve at least a plan to work with or a skeleton frame. An ending?” Lay urged on.

When Wu Fan shook his head to all Lay’s questions, Lay sighed sadly. If Lay was any other rookie Muse, he would have flopped down on the floor to cry and beg until the requester took pity and started working. But in Lay’s experience, this tactic was counterproductive for the requesters. The sole purpose of being the Muse of an artist is to inspire, inspire, inspire. If nothing comes up, then the Muse was not working hard enough or the Muse had handled it wrongly. Or maybe the requester was blocked at the moment.

Until the contract was met, neither one of them could break this bond of dependency. Lay tried not to bite his lip, tried not to grab his lurching stomach. He had to work fast or else his time would be up. His head was already woozy from the hunger.

“Who’s your main character in your new story?” Lay asked out of curiosity.

“Ace—the alpaca.” Wu fan used a pencil to point to a sketch he had done of his main character. A white, fluffy sheep-like creature with large, shining beady eyes, wrapped up snugly in a pink over coat and a blue thick shawl.

“And his friends?”

“The rhinoceros, the koala beer, the ox and maybe even Red dragon and the panda brothers.” Wu Fan pointed to the subsequent side-characters sketches besides Ace’s sketch. Some blobs of creatures with pointy teeth, dancing feet and small heads. Lay resisted the urge to ask which one of them was actually the rhinoceros.

“What’s the general story you want to tell the children?”

“… Friendship with all kinds of species. I think. Or forming a music band.”

“You have the basics already. Why don’t you start with the first chapter? The introduction of the characters?”

Wu fan frowned and then crossed his arms defensively. “That’s what I’m trying to write. My whole thrash can is filled with half-assed beginnings.”

Lay glanced at the thrash in question. Sure enough the whole plastic was flowing with torn and balled up paper sheets.