“There’s room at the top.” There’s always been room at the top. That’s what they’re always telling me. I have potential to live on the hill. I have all my life, but I just can’t bring myself to do what they want me to. So I stay in the valley, and I must say, it’s well worth it. It’s better to be loved in the valley than to be hated on the hill. I think I saw that in a fortune cookie once.

The gangly man was standing in front of me as I zoned back in.

“Did you hear me? I said-” I cut him off.

“There’s room at the top. Yes, I heard you. I’ve declined the invitation before. What could possibly make you think I will acccept now?” A smirk ran across his pale face. The kind of smirk that meant he had a gun. A clever smirk ran across my own. I stepped just a fraction to the left as he drew a gun and emptied it just beside my Asian figure. He looked perplexed.

“Wha.. how’d you do that?”

“Ssh. Ancient Chinese secret.”

“But you’re Vietnamese!”

“For all you know, I could be from Siam.” HA!

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