Page 1 of Barbi and the Villain

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Why are the best men fictional?

I stare dreamily at my wall-sized illustrated poster of Sir Damien and Lady Jocelyn, smiling like a fool. He’s gazing down at her with such adoration that my insides turn to mush as I imagine someone looking at me like that.

One day! One day I’ll have someone just like that!

Turning to the mirror, I add a bit more blush to my cheeks and some pink lipstick. Puckering my lips, I briefly close my eyes as I imagine a man with the face of an angel and the body of a Greek god swearing his undying love to me before he leans down to kiss me.

Ah! A shiver goes down my body at the delicious daydream.

PomPom releases a soft bark, grazing her fluffy body against my bare legs.

The spell is broken, my fantasy destroyed.

I sigh as I gaze down at my cute white Pomeranian wiggling her tail and looking up at me with those cute eyes of hers.

“If only you were a boy, PomPom,” I whisper, picking her up in my arms.

She licks my lips, tasting my lipstick and making a disgusted face. A giggle escapes me at her antics.

I give her a treat to distract her for a moment while I finish dressing up and putting on my makeup—all pink and girly, of course. It’s not only a costume for me, it’s an empowering way of life. Dressing up as Lady Jocelyn always makes me think that the world is my oyster and that I can achieve everything I set out to do. She’s a powerful pink princess who is the perfect mix of feminine and badass—everything I’ve always wanted to be, too.

I’m wearing a pink dress with a fluffy skirt and a fitted bodice that may or may not have an overly revealing cleavage. I might have to run out of the house before my mom sees me. The corset I added on top of it accentuates my waist. Finishing the outfit are, of course, Jocelyn’s signature strawberry-blond hair—though I’ve resigned myself to wearing a wig since I almost burned my hair two years ago bleaching it—and her pink five-inch heels.

Satisfied with my outfit, I make sure to dress PomPom in a similar pink ensemble, topped with a cute pink bow. Taking her in my arms, I open the door to my room and poke my head out, listening for any noises downstairs. A voice echoes from the kitchen.

“Kang Min did? Oh, that is very nice,” my mother says, though her tone lacks the necessary enthusiasm. She’s probably on the phone with her pseudo-friend Ye Rim—I wouldn’t call them friends when all they do is try to one-up each other. “What university did you say it was?” A pause. “Oh, Yale. My Babi is also thinking of applying there. They have one of the best law schools in the country…”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I take a deep breath. I still haven’t told my mom that I didn’t register for the LSAT—or that I likely never will. Dad is supportive of my choice, but for some reason, Mom got it in her head that the only way to prove to her friends that I was smart was by getting into a top three law school. It doesn’t matter that I don’t want to become a lawyer, or that my dream is to work in the publishing industry. No, for her it’s all about showing that her daughter is not just some ditzy pink-loving loser.

I square my shoulders in disappointment. PomPom releases a soft bark as she senses my distress.

“We need to change strategies,” I whisper to her. I quickly take off my shoes. Carrying them in one hand and PomPom in the other, I dash out the door. I run down the stairs and go straight for the exit when I hear my mom calling my name from behind.

“Babi-ya! Where are you going dressed like that?”

My eyes widen. Of course the woman has superhuman hearing—she’s been busting my attempts at sneaking out since I was sixteen.

PomPom barks at hearing her voice, so I increase my speed. Mom’s thudding steps echo behind as she chases after me, her voice increasingly more irate.

“Babi-ya!”

The car is in the driveway, ready to go. When the driver sees me, he opens the door for me to slide in with PomPom and we quickly drive off.

One quick glance in the mirror and I see my mom gesturing furiously at us—no doubt promising retribution for both me and my dad for arranging my escape.

“To the Convention Center, Miss Bancroft?” Mr. Philips, the driver, asks a few moments later.

“Yes, please. The back entrance. I need to get there early to make sure everything is set for our scene.”

“Sure thing, miss.” Mr. Philips winks at me.

I nestle PomPom closer to me as I direct my thoughts to our scene.

Every year, my friends and I attend Comic Con and stage a scene from The Five Mages of Akkaya, a popular fantasy book series with over a dozen installments. The Five Mages are a band of misfits, all from humble beginnings. They trained until they became some of the best mages on the continent of Akkaya and they protected its citizens by defeating a slew of villains.

The main character of the series is Sir Damien, an honorable and kind hero who rescues damsels in distress and who always puts the welfare of his people above his own. He is the epitome of a righteous hero, and it doesn’t hurt that he is also handsome, with his golden locks, sparkling blue eyes, and muscular body.

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