Stacey shivered beneath the concrete stairs, hugging her tummy and curling into a tighter ball. Hunger clawed at her stomach, cold seeped into her bones and the wind carried a scent she couldn't place. It was quiet in this part of the town and so she could hide here, away from the unwelcoming eyes of the locals.
Just from looking at her and even before she had opened her mouth, their body language had already rejected her. When they did hear her accent, undisguised disgust had resulted in her being chased or beaten away with whatever had been at hand.
Yesterday, a man in an official uniform had chased her away with his baton, making it clear in accented English exactly what they thought of 'dirty, uneducated drifter pests' like her. He had threatened her with more than a beating if she didn't stop disturbing the peace and leave the town soon.
But all Stacey had wanted was answers to her questions of where she was, if there was a way for her to earn food or money or shelter. All she wanted was a way to survive another day, having already gone two or three without food. She was desperate. He hadn't been interested in answering any of her questions.
And so all she had been able to do was shakily run and hide here under these stairs that had become her home for the past few days.
Everywhere she looked, the world was alien. The market contained fruits and vegetables that had to be handled carefully before they could be eaten or cooked. There had even been a red apple-like fruit containing a crab-like creature. If the fruit wasn't shaken hard enough before being eaten, the crab inside would jump out to attack, like she had seen happen to a little boy who had run screaming through the marketplace with a small crab hanging from his nose.
Although she was obviously in some weird and foreign place, at least people here still spoke some English. It was heavily accented, but at least it was a sliver of comfort.
She remembered her comfortable apartment and life back home. Although it was a multicultural community, most people spoke English and she could at least name what languages people were speaking in. There, the rules of survival were at least easier to follow, compared to this place that completely rejected her before she even spoke.
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The sound of deep rumbling motors made the ground vibrate, waking Stacey from the first sound sleep she'd had in a while. Stacey couldn't guess what time it was, but it was definitely later in the day than before. It was still freezing though.
A bus pulled up in the big carpark and dropped off a load of excited, squealing teenage girls. Another bus pulled up behind the first bus and released a busload of rumbunctious teenage boys. The teenagers all milled around, introducing themselves to each other and seemed to be waiting for something or someone to tell them what to do. The noise made Stacey's head hurt, but this could be a chance. The opportunity she'd been waiting for.
She wasn't a teenager anymore but she could still pass herself off as one. Customers at work used to always ask her if she was there on work experience or what year of high school she was in, so Stacey reckoned she'd be safe enough mingling with this group of kids. Maybe she'd get fed when they had lunch. Drinking water from the taps at the public toilets wasn't enough and she was getting desperate.
Since no one here seemed to really know anyone else, she ought to be able to blend in easily. She hoped.
Stacey drifted over and tried to act like she was meant to be there as well. If this didn't work, she had a feeling she'd be pretty much done for. The best she could do now would be to go with the flow. Listening to the chatter, Stacey heard that most of the conversations were in English mixed with the native language here. Realising that she could understand the majority of what she was listening to, a wave of relief washed through Stacey.
It wasn't like the other townspeople she had tried to talk to in the marketplace who had looked down on her only being able to speak English. She had received enough scoldings in the last few days to last a lifetime. But now, here was a chance to communicate. Make meaningful connections.
A few teenagers, both boys and girls, looked at Stacey up and down, and then pretended that they hadn't noticed her with a snort. Stacey decided to ignore those teenagers too. She didn't care about their disdain. She had received enough of it in the past that this much could be ignored. She could talk to other, more friendly people who were busy with their conversations yet still greeted her with a nod, as if asking her to wait because they wanted to talk to her too. Stacey listened to the teenagers talking first in order to glean information and find out what they were here for.
"I'm so excited! When I got the notice that I passed the audition, my parents took me out for a celebratory dinner."
"Really? My parents walloped me for signing me up behind their backs. They wanted me to be a doctor, not enter the entertainment industry, but I'm here anyway."
"I'm here cos I didn't want to go to military school."
"What stream do you think you'll get into? I hope to be a musician and failing that, an actor."
"I want to be a stuntman and an actor."
"I want to join a boy band group. Wouldn't it be cool to tour the country and give concerts?"
"Hey, then perhaps I'll be a part of your band. I'm a musician. I can play three instruments."
"Why can't we have a mixed gender singing and dancing group? I reckon that would be cool."
"You just want to pick up girls, don't you?"
"Shut up."
"If I say I want to become a comedian and host game shows, do you think that'll be too niche?"
"Hey, girl! I love your dress and those earrings. They're so cute on you! Where'd you get them?"
"Your makeup is amazing. Look how smooth your foundation is. What brand is it?"
All the shouted conversations in order to be heard over the noise of so many people gathered together and talking at the same time made Stacey's brain spin, but because it was mostly in English and she could understand it, Stacey couldn't help grinning. She really couldn't help it. How could she not be happy when there were other people closer to her age that she could talk to? Although she had left her teenage years four years ago, she felt like she could still act as if she were a teenager again.
"Say, when do you think lunch will be?" she asked a random teenaged girl in a plain yellow dress who glanced at her and laughed.
"At lunch time," the girl shrugged at Stacey, tugging her cardigan straight. "Hungry already?"
"Starving," Stacey admitted. "I couldn't eat this morning."
"Me either," the girl laughed and lifted her hand to look at her wristwatch where Stacey saw a clock face that looked like no clock she had ever seen. How was this clock meant to be read and what were all the symbols? Why wasn't it a dial? Where were the clock hands? Was it a digital watch? But if so, it still didn't make any sense.
"There's probably another two hours before lunch. Hold on," the girl grinned. "I couldn't eat much this morning either. I was too excited. Imagine that you're losing weight and that the sacrifice is worth it. That's what I do. I eat a little too much and I put on weight like there's no tomorrow."
"Oh, you've been dieting too?" a girl in a frilly dress and bowties thrust herself in between them with a squeal. "Join the club! Tell me, what diet are you taking at the moment?"
Another teenaged girl in a smart dress with a sailor collar and butterfly ruffles squeezed over to join the conversation. The girls discussed the pros and cons of their various dieting regimes.
"What about you?" the girl in a cardigan suddenly remembered Stacey.
"I don't diet," Stacey answered. "I'm honestly just starving. Don't mind me."
"Oh, excuse us then," and the girls squeezed Stacey out of the circle.
Turning around, a girl bounced up to Stacey. The first thing Stacey noticed about her was her pale skin and freckles.
"Hi, I'm Lacey," a girl with a bright smile. Her green eyes glowed like emeralds and were all the more brilliant, framed by her auburn hair and lit up by her obvious excitement. "I'm soooo excited to be here. Aren't you? I can't wait for the training to start and see whether I can get into a singing star type career or acting or something like that. I can't wait for the singing and dancing lessons. I'm not so interested in the fighting and stunts classes but I won't have to take those anymore once I get into a star stream. Some people can already dance, sing and act and I'm soooo jealous that they've already got such a big head start. I hope I can join a new girl group and become famous. I'm a bit nervous about the cameras, like, will I look fat? What's your name? What stream are you hoping to get into?"
"I'm Anastasia - Stacey for short," Stacey smiled back and wondered if she'd ever been as innocent when she was Lacey's age. The girl was talking so fast that Stacey was having trouble keeping up. She felt tired already. "I'm not entirely sure which stream I want to get into yet. I guess I'll see how things go. I think the fighting and stunt classes sound cool though."
"Huh. You must be more of a tomboy, hey?" Lacey nudged her with an elbow. "You totally rock the look with your baggy trousers and all. That shirt is so guy-ish. So cool. I wish I had already gotten myself an individual look. You look the most original out of all the girls I've met so far," Lacey leaned back and nodded, looking Stacey up and down. "Our names rhyme too, you know. If we paired up, I could go the full on girly route while you take the tomboy look. We'd totally look good together - like Stacey and Lacey - how cool does that sound? Actually, on second thoughts, it's a bit cheesy, don't you think?"
"Uh, yeah. A bit," Stacey agreed awkwardly.
"I'm gonna go introduce myself to more people. You should too. Don't hang on the edges and be a stranger. We're all gonna be living together for the next three months until the teachers have locked us into a stream they reckon we'd do well in. It'll be good for us all to get along and help each other out in the future. We're all gonna be in the same industry, after all. If we do well, we'll have an extra certificate of recommendation when we join the Academy of Performing Arts that will give us extra credits. I'll see ya later, Stacey!"
So all these teenagers were here for a three month intensive performing arts course that was going to be filmed? Huh. Good thing Stacey was pretty used to being around cameras and wasn't overly self-conscious around them.
Her parents had been filming her constantly since she was small, resulting in her bad habit of speaking her thoughts out loud and making some people think she was crazy. Also, most of her piano competitions had been recorded. She had been interviewed after some competitions by small local media stations or newspapers. Her piano teacher back then had also coached her how to act and behave on camera, and how to answer tricky questions. So she had a vague idea of how things might work.
So an intensive performing arts short course that was being filmed wasn't too much of a concern for her. At least she'd have food and shelter, and nobody in this entire world knew her. There would be no need to feel self-conscious or embarrassed in case somebody she knew recognised her.
Lacey turned to join in a huddled group of girls, squealing about how cute and doll like one of them looked. Wincing at the pitch of the squeal so close to her ear, Stacey edged away from the group of cute and glamorous girly girls who had makeup, glitter and curled bangs. She didn't know how to join in.
It was even worse here where she had never even heard of the brand names, colours or even half the jargon words they were using in their conversation. At home, she'd at least be able to follow the conversation. Here, she was pretty much lost.