Fucking performative celebrities.
Nana unconsciously muttered under her breath after removing the gloves from her hands, tossing them into the nearest trash bag beside her seat.
Seeing the greatactor everyone praised and loved for his face card, acting all high and mighty during a medical mission, only added to her irritation in the scorching sun. She couldn't help it—she rolled her eyes and took off her mask and stood up.
"Ih~Atom's really handsome, no?" Magenta Marie, her co-volunteer, shrieked as she walked beside her.
"Yuck," Nana said, looking disgusted. "You for real? You find that—" she gestured at Atom up and down—"handsome?"
"C'mon, it's break time. It's not bad if he chills. Stop your stereotyping," Magenta Marie chuckled, shaking her head.
Nana untied her hair as they entered the tent where water and snacks were laid out. She also took off her white coat—it only added to the heat she was feeling.
"Doesn't ignore the fact that they're only here to do performative sympathy. His kind only comes to this kind of mission for pictures they could use to manipulate their audience." Nana didn't even flinch saying it. She took a blue macaron from the plate on the table and sat in an empty chair.
"Well," Magenta shrugged as she poured hot water into her cup.
"You're having coffee? Girl, it's hot," Nana commented.
"Like it's bad?" Magenta scoffed. "Coffee's a good counter to the heat."
"What kinda logic's that?"
"Hey, just shut up," she said, sitting on the foldable seat across from Nana, sipping her coffee with a sigh.
"Anyways, have you seen the other celebrity, though?" Magenta asked after a while of silence.
Nana eyed her as she drank from her mineral water, brows furrowed.
"Who?" she asked, gulping down the water and taking another macaron.
"Dash B."
Nana looked at Magenta dead in the eyes. Magenta rolled her eyes and sighed, putting her coffee on the table and reaching for a macaron, only for Nana to grab it and encircle it in her arms. Magenta scoffed and took a chocolate biscuit instead.
"Dashiel Beaumont. Dash B. for short."
"Ha?"
"Nana." Magenta warned.
Nana smirked. "Hanalulu."
"Nye, nye, so childish."
Nana laughed and munched on her macaron.
"Another performative."
"You're really on that 'performative' stereotype for every celebrity, huh? Not everyone is like the ones we met during Med days." Magenta's tone was like a mini-sermon. Nana agreed in her mind, but she still thought most of them were the same.
"Anyways, back to Dash B. I personally think he's a good guy. He actually cares," Magenta said, sipping her half-empty coffee.
"What makes you think that? Because he was out there in the scorching heat, happily interacting with the kids? Sounds performative to me. That's what they're good at, anyway." Nana said.
"Heh, you and your judgmental self. But whatever, that's yours. I really think he's different. If you just had looked at his eyes—they're glowing while passing gifts to the kids earlier. If you actually observe and not judge, you'll see." Magenta emphasized actually and judge.
Nana didn't respond. Her friend had a point. She saw Dash B. giving his personal donations to the kids earlier. He seemed genuinely happy, genuinely enjoying it. Still, her brain defaulted: celebrities do this for show.
"I'm right, no?" Magenta chuckled. "You're smart, but sometimes your brain just loops to judgmental mode even after learning about human behavior."
"Yeah, whatever," Nana said dismissively. She didn't want to talk about it.
Both lapsed into silence, silently munching biscuits and macarons, until someone entered.
DashB.
He wore an oversized white tee hanging over his broad shoulders, khaki shorts, New Balance shoes, and a black cap positioned backwards.
He looked like he was searching for something. When he realized two pairs of eyes were on him, his eyes widened slightly, but then he offered a wide, friendly smile.
"Uh, h-hi," he greeted awkwardly.
"Aww!" Nana shrieked when a sudden pain hit her shin. She glared at Magenta, who had kicked her under the table.
"Hi! Dash, right?" Magenta quickly set her half-bitten biscuit on the table and wiped her hands on her white coat before offering a handshake. "I'm Magenta."
"Oh. Y-yeah, hi. I'm Dash. Nice to meet you, Magenta. What a nice name." Dash grabbed her hand and shook it, showing a sweet smile with his canines.
Nana clicked her tongue at the sight—Magenta, specifically. She guessed her friend was holding back a squeal and curling her toes in excitement.
"And you are?" Nana looked up at Dash.
She stopped herself from rolling her eyes and stayed professional despite her growing irritation. Celebrities… Ugh.
"Nana," she said simply, not offering her hand.
Awkward silence followed. Magenta looked between them, letting out an awkward chuckle.
"Her real name's Nanami, actually. Sounds like a boy's name, right? Ha ha." Magenta laughed awkwardly. Dash laughed too, scratching the back of his neck.
"Like the anime?" he asked.
"Yeah, the one with Kaisen something," Magenta agreed.
"Sounds cool, though. Nanami."
Nana said nothing. She stood up, gathered the nearly empty plate of macarons, grabbed her white coat, and walked out.
"Sorry about that, bi—I mean, Nana. She just kind of has a shitty attitude, you know," Magenta called after her.
Ugh. Nana just couldn't stand celebrities.