Marilyn Monroe

To:

Actor Zhu Yi Long

Not all disabilities can be seen to the eye.

Disability. What a strange word. Joy Long tasted the word gently on his tongue. The letter D had a weird unpleasant taste; something like the smell of Marlboro smoke. Yeah, just as perfect and ideal. The problem was not Joy Long did not know what to do. The problem was he could not find a way to survive. In recent years, he had thought too much about it, he could write a ten thousand words article about his problem to publish in the California Academy of Literature and Art, and the newspapers would write hot reviews about it! Oh no, Joy Long knew this would not be the end of his problems. No matter how tired he was, his brain kept thinking, all the time, non-stop. The stunning piece of gray rubbish, which had crept up between those strong, secure white bones of his skull never, stopped speaking.

Stepping on the pavement, all he cared about was not to put his shoes on the pavement lines of that famous street: the Hollywood Walk of fame. Ever since he was young, his big dream was to walk down this damn road and see his name on one of those golden stars with the Thalia-Melpomene theater masks: Joy Long. Today, for the one thousand one hundred and forty-seventh day, he passed that long street and still did not see his name on any of the stars. He chuckled softly and walked towards the office and his naughty boss. Naughty. Well, this term was enough to describe that fat racist pig. Joy thought to himself when I call him like that I am racist too.

Obviously, he hated himself more and more than before. On the way, he got a ready-made coffee from one of a street cafe and had a hot sip; in these three years in California, tasting morning coffee had become an inescapable routine to him.

The truth is Joy Long was lonesome.

Another aspect of the truth is, Joy was happy enough to be alone; As far as he knew, no one enjoyed being alone and lying on the sofa as much as he did! Maybe except for kittens. Honestly, it is more correct to say being alone, lying on the sofa, and sinking into fantasies. By the time he was 27, all he had done was dipping his head into his old PC and pretending to watch movies, thinking with an unconscious smile to his only dream: Becoming a Hollywood star. The only thing he was good at was daydreaming. Joy could see himself acting beside the biggest idol of all his life: Marilyn Monroe.

Not strange, is it? Marilyn Monroe was an idol for many people around the world. Many of them were just captivated after seeing her movies and finally found their way into the Hollywood spectacle industry. Marilyn was an inspiration to many actors around the world, the secret key to turn on their creativity... but it was hard to count on a Chinese skinny boy to become a Hollywood star!

However, Joy had never given up. It has been 16 years since he saw Marilyn Monroe in the movie The Seven Year Itch. He well remembered the gift his playful grandpa gave him, did what to him. Grandpa entered him into the world of adolescence. Joy was always thankful to his grandpa for introducing him to this praiseworthy gentle Madame. The woman who filled Joy's heart with songs, sorrows, and dreams: the grief of Marilyn's death and the dream of going on stage with her.

Joy fell in love with the legendary woman's soul: Marilyn Monroe. Not for every single one of these 1147 days, but for every single day of his life. Right now, he was walking on the Walk of fame and living in two worlds at the same time:

The colorful world of his mind and the boring world flowed outside. Joy could see Marilyn's happy face beyond the smonny[1] Hollywood sky as he walked next to her on the red carpet. Even though it was just early morning, Joy was walking on the red carpet, arm to arm, with his beloved Marilyn's on a bright, glowing night, under the twinkling light of reporters' camera flashes. Marilyn was beautifully and proudly laughing and Joy? Joy boasted with pride and ecstasy in the eyes of all the people of his fantasy world. Hundreds and hundreds of fans longed to take just one photo with the famous Hollywood actor Joy Long, and reporters lined up to hear a few inspirational words from the famous Mrs. Monroe.

Joy often called himself a fantasist.

Just like a food critic, he sat for hours and obsessively choose the dream he wanted from the menu to his taste. He was a dreamologist and had a Master's Degree in it. Dreams feed his soul, the well-polished temple of his mind floated on them gently, like a baby cradle.

It did not matter Joy Long was standing under the Hollywood sky; He could still see with his own eyes his unique dream buds. Thanks to his lovely and distracted mind, as usual, he slammed his face against the office entrance. Ouch! His little nose hurts; he carelessly rubbed his face, causing his half-full coffee to spill on the office floor, right in front of the door. Robbie, the servant man who was in charge of cleaning the office, cursed this "naughty Asian brat" like all the days.

Naughty Asian brat. Early in his first days after immigration to the United States, hearing such words could ruin his whole day. Those racist pigs upset him, even though he has always claimed to love Americans, even though he was a Hollywood actor; again, somewhere deep in his heart, he hated them. Not all of them. Those who made fun of Asians. Oh, but hearing Robbie's rude insults had now become a daily routine. Joy took off his pensive hat, bowed fulsomely, and said:

- Good morning, sir. What beautiful gray socks you wore. Suitable for your squint eyes.

- Little brat! Wait if I get my hand on you!

Mischievously, Joy danced nimbly away from him and approached the reception desk:

- Good morning, Joy.

- Good morning, Claire. New offers?

- There it is, on the table next to the water cooler.

Claire was a fat, beautiful girl from Mexico who had lived in California since she was seven. Joy placed his elbow fondly on the reception desk and bowed his head to Claire, who was looking at Joy with slightly pink cheeks:

- Thanks… and my offers?

- I am sorry Joy, no news today.

- Oh… Another great day to spend time and play cards. See you in the evening!

Joy presented a blown kiss to Claire. With a short laugh and heartfelt applause, Claire responded to his greeting, which was more like forced and respectful flirting. As if a pleasant, flattering, gentle manner could pave the way for him to take a role!

Joy did anything he could to get a job offer these days, and he had no idea why he could not succeed. Well, maybe if he had stayed in his own country he was a unique man by now! However, Joy did not even know How to spell unique; and all he did every day was daydreaming about walking the red carpet and winning a damn Oscar.

Sometimes Joy became so engrossed in his mystical fantasies that he forgot to match his tie color with his socks, or sometimes, as he was eating dinner in a crowded restaurant, he waved his hand unconsciously and talked to himself. After all, the reality is Joy Long was now nothing more than a simple employee of an acting agency was. Although everyone knew him as a clumsy, awkward Chinese- American whose only art was to play some cameo roles, Joy saw himself as a unique actor whose talent and genius did not discover and flourish yet. Joy believed in himself and his talents so he moved from East Asia to West America.

It was true that he had a strict father who was expected joy to become an army officer or doctor and earn a decent job, a fine salary, and a beautiful wife. It was true that Joy was originally a quiet, humble shy, innocent man who inherited these traits from his Chinese father, Long Yuan Bao- a Chinese antique dealer. However, it was also true that Joy had her mother's playful American spirit.

A mother who had not been with Joy for several years, almost from the year he started to learn acting. Oh, but Joy did not become one of his parents' dreams. Mr. Long, who was ashamed of having such a son, pretended that his son had gone to the USA to study, and ignored the fact he becomes a wonderer…, and his mother, who always said Joy is an instinctive artist, would surely be disappointed in heaven to see his daily laziness and endless treading water.

Sometimes Joy asked himself why. Why could not he be an ordinary person? Just like almost all the people of the world who thought, it was easier to find a job, a pretty wife, and a big house in your own country, rather than follow the passionate road of fame abroad! On the other hand, everyone considered such a situation to be bliss, and no one even bothered her or himself to gain such fame. No, no, no… but Joy was different: he hated ordinary life and did anything he could to run away from it: Even by doing some ordinary life stuff.

Joy did not agree with them; He preferred to revolve against his life and wanted to quench his thirst for fame by the American dream. Therefore, when he said goodbye to Claire, he went upstairs to the clerk's office to sort up his boss's letters without the slightest regret. Luckily, his boss was a fat bourgeois pig who hated all communists. Well, of course, Joy Long was not a communist; he was an ideal example of an impossible love affair between an emotional Disney princess-like girl, and a young man with revolutionary thoughts. However, for his boss- Peter Mohr, it did not matter who he was; Joy was Chinese, and Chinese meant communist.

Oh, but Joy Long was born to be optimistic about life: the name his mother chose for him meant Long Joy with a slight change in words arrange. Well, whatever he thought, being Asian was a thousand times better than growing up in the Middle East: In a world where fat pigs were boss, being a communist was much better than being a terrorist! Joy entered the room and said with a proud smile:

- Good morning, Mr. Mohr.

Deliberately, with pleasure, he pronounced the letter in Chinese with Wuhan's accent, the hidden meaning behind the word Mu-re caused a soothing and deceptive smile on his face.

He fucked that bourgeois pig in his mind, and as always, as he sat behind his small desk, the scorching California sunshine through the clean windows, causing his headache. He thought that Mu Re[2] was bending over on the floor and wiping joy's shoes with his special silk handkerchief. For the Chinese, nothing was worst to kneel on the ground to beg, and Joy began his work every day with this pure and true fantasy. However, today was not going to be as usual. Mohr came to Joy and dropped a letter on his desk:

- This is the last chance I give you. If you disappoint me again, you fired Joy Long!

Deep in his heart, there was boundless hatred. Joy picked up the letter. So why did not this pumpkin-head give this offer letter to Clair to give it to Joy? There was a question in his eyes, made that pig moan mockingly:

- Oh ... Joy Long, do not even think about it. Until you come back with pockets full of money, all the damn offers you get will stay here until they are canceled!

Joy gritted his teeth in anger. Kiss my ass! That is why I had no job offer for three months. He turned down them and did not tell me! Joy sobbed and opened the contract he had been given. Damn it... What a droll script! Joy stared more and more at the contract, and laughter boiled like a bubble in his throat. Suddenly, after seeing a word, all his dreams become more vivid in his heart: Male lead Role.

- Mr. Mohr, I think they made a mistake, I...

- Right, unfortunately, I have to say there is an idiot who offered you to act the lead role in his movie... but do not be so tipsy-pipsy yet. Make sure your dreams do not last long.

- The contract says, the director insists only I can act this role, sir.

Peter Mohr only smiled like a pervert, resembling the smile of the Dark Lord when Narcissa Malfoy lied to him about Harry Potter's death. Joy nodded. He read the contract carefully again. Yeah! He guessed right. This was not an ordinary movie.

He was supposed to be a porn star!

[1] Smonny: A mix of Smoggy and sunny weather.

[2] Muzhu in Chinese is a word of abuse and it means Mother Pig. Re means burning and roasting; So Mu Re roughly means grilled pig.