Chapter Text
“Hi, Barbie!”
“Hi, Ken!”
“Hi, Barbie!”
“Hi, Barbie!”
“Hi, Ken!”
“Hi, Barbie!”
“Hi, Ken!”
“Hi, Ken!”
“Hi, Barbie!”
“Hi, Ken!”
“Hi, Barbie!”
“Hi, Allan!”
Allan grinned awkwardly, raising a hand and standing at his usual spot on Malibu Beach. Everyone, fully introduced and greeted, continued their day.
Many Kens still populate the seaside, electing to continue to beach, what with it being one of the many things they have worked for a very long time to be good at. Other Kens have left the beach to go off and explore their new found Kenergy, adopting jobs such as Doctors, Astronomers, Teachers, Chefs, Dancers, Farmers, Baristas and Trash collectors, to name but a few, just like the Barbies. Allan, being Allan, continued his usual daily routine, deciding to do what he wanted, when he wanted.
“Hi, Allan!”
He recognised the voice instantly, turning to greet the blonde haired man strolling towards him.
“Hi, Ken,” he smiled, reserved.
Ken jogged down the sand dune, surfboard tucked under his arm and headband secured around his head. Even still, he was wearing his fluffy tie-die hoodie, which Allan very much wished he had.
“How are you, Allan?” He grinned, holding the board across his front as he looked intently at the red head.
“Fine. I mean, I just kinda stay here all morning, until everyone goes to lunch and then y’know…I sneak off, grab a drink, come back. You know, pretty normal stuff.” Allan shrugged as Ken listened along eagerly, nodding enthusiastically as he explained his mundane routine.
“That sounds awesome! Can I come and get a drink with you later?” He crossed his fingers.
“Um…sure?” He agreed.
Ken fist-pumped the air, quickly looking to the side with narrowed eyes, “Yeah, that’ll be cool.”
“What are you doing here then?” Allan asked curiously, eyeing up the surfboard, “Are you gonna beach with Ken?”
“Nah,” he shook his head calmly, “my beach days are behind me. I just carry this cause I like it,” he gestured with the surfboard and massive grin.
He’s adorable, isn’t he? This is what he’s needed for over fifty years and I’m so glad Barbie helped him discover this side of himself, aren’t you?
“It is pretty cool!” Allan chuckled at the large, pink board, “So, you’re just coming to relax like me?”
“Actually, I was kind of looking for you,” he admitted, “I wondered if you wanted to do anything this evening?” He paused and raised his eyebrows, quickly adding, “Or tomorrow, or next week, or whenever?”
Allan wasn’t so used to Kens acting this way, they were normally very boisterous, loud and energetic and really, he couldn’t remember the last time one of them had come up to him for any other reason than to give him a noogie.
“How come? Can’t you just hang with one of the Kens?” He asked apprehensively, aware this could be another classic Ken joke.
“Because, well y’know, I was so wrapped up with beach and trying to impress Barbie all the time, that I forgot about you…my best friend,” he gently nudged his arm, with an apologetically smile.
Allan’s face softened at this side of Ken before he laughed it off, reciprocating the nudge, “Oh, Ken! I didn’t mind.”
Spoiler alert: He did. He minded a lot, seeing as it’s meant he’s been purposeless for fifty years. He doesn’t blame Ken though, after all, up until now not only had he thought his entire purpose was to be the Ken to…well Barbie, but the entire population of BarbieLand had all collectively been living in an imagination fuelled dreamworld, dictated by the creativity of children that kept them to their stringently planned lives, collectively unaware to the greater extent of their existence and incredible potential of their lives, doomed to repeat it day in day out forever and ever and ever!……Anyway, now that this has been understood by everyone, Ken has begun to understand his own po-Ken-tial (thank you) and Allan has proven himself as much more than ‘just Allan’ in his part of the freeing of BarbieLand from the control of the Kens. Now, with each other’s help, let’s hope they can finally begin to understand where they fit in the grand scheme of it all and make up for fifty years of missed opportunity.