Chapter Text
A nervous lump forms in Dan Heng’s throat as he steps out of the taxi. Pink glittering suitcase clenched tightly, uniform freshly ironed, and his usually messy mop of hair perfectly combed through without a hair out of place for his first day at Barbz U. His face is an entirely different story— he has a sad and pathetic look to him, like a ten year old boy lost in Walmart does after Mom forgot him in the condom aisle and drove away. Like that one image of a kitten with its face dipped in milk, just really pitiful and soggy all around.
He eyes the sparkling hot pink steps carefully. Students, a big circle of them, litter the surface, laughing and tapping their phone screens, blocking his way. He can’t push through, or he might step on someone... and he can’t go another way, because he needs the library, where the information center is, and this is the closest entrance to the library. He might get lost if he tries to go somewhere else. He could just politely ask the sitting friend group to move, but that’s too logical. The thought of interacting with another human makes a bead of sweat dribble down his chin and his palms start to feel clammy.
Shit, this is bad.
He considers taking another way and showing up late. There’s a back entrance that he saw some kids head off to, it’s a little far but there’d be nobody in the way…
“Hayyy girls!”
A loud cheerful voice sounds incredibly close behind him, making him jump out of his skin. The sitting friend group waves and returns the greeting enthusiastically, rings clinking and lip gloss gleaming. He whips around, preparing to run, when a big smile greets him in return.
“Oh, and who are you? Are you new here, baby?” The woman says in a singsong voice.
It’s Nicki Minaj, the most popular student on campus. He’s seen her instagram follower count— an imposing figure that could rival the population of Belarus.
“Uhm.” He sweats. “Would you like your receipt?”
Fuck. Wrong reply. That twelve hour shift at Starbucks was starting to get to him.
He cringes and prays to whatever deity above that the ground will open up and swallow him whole, so he never has to step foot on campus again.
To his surprise, Nicki Minaj only breaks into a fit of laughter. “You’re funny!”
“I’m Nicki! What’s your name?” She asks, once she regains her composure.
“I’m Dan Heng.” He answers.
“Nice to meet you, babe. Tell ya what—I’ll show you around campus. Think of me as your personal tour guide. You must be so confused right now.”
He nods, bewildered, gasping out as she takes his hands and leads him up the stairs. The friend group parts for her like the Red Sea, doing what took him so much ruminating in just one effortless swoop. He understands, Nicki Minaj’s powerful aura would bring anyone to their knees.
She leads him down a long, brightly colored hallway. The entire palette is various shades of pink, hot pink, light pink, bubblegum pink, reminiscent of that one barbie movie Bailu forced him to watch once, the one where she goes to a princess charm school or something and it turns out that the headmaster is a cult leader.
Sparkling chandeliers hang from the ceiling, the windows are rose tinted with the designs of various portraits etched into their surfaces, the floor is brushed with glitter.
Nicki shows him the food court first. It’s even more vibrant than the hall was, preppy decorations and table sets strewn about. She points to all the stands, acrylic nails tapping against her palm as she lists the options.
“The food at Barbz U will not disappoint you, baby. Just look at what we’ve got; Onika Burgers, Lana Del Ray Waffle House, McDonald’s with the Barbz U exclusive Phoebe Bridgers meal, Starbucks, Burger King, and A&W… and there’s more on the second floor.”
“Uh-huh.” He nods along.
Next, she takes him past the lecture halls, telling him what class goes in each, then to the student lounge.
“I mean, it’s not technically a lounge, it’s actually supposed to be a storage room, but nobody treats it like it is, so.”
“Wait, who are those people?” He drops his voice lower, discreetly flicking his head towards a table filled with gloomy, slouched figures.
Her eyes widen in alarm at his question, as if he said something wrong. He starts to backpedal, but she shakes her head, glancing to make sure nobody is listening. Then, she whispers, “Those… are the Swifties…”
Her expression darkens. “Don’t ever get near them. They might seem normal, but they’re actually some crazy ass bitches. They operate under darkness, never making themselves too obvious.”
One of the figures lifts their head, eyeing the two carefully.
“See what I mean? Shady as fuck.“ Nicki whisper-yells.
She rushes him out of there. They scurry down the hall, passing the library, and Dan Heng has to stop in his tracks. Nicki jolts backward.
“Wait, I need to go in there. There’s a seminar for first years.” He explains, upon her weird look.
“You should’ve told me! We would’ve gone there first.”
He shrugs. “I did need to get a tour, though.”
“It could’ve waited! Actually, I can come in with you right now. My classes haven’t started yet. Just so you’re not all alone?”
He flushes, a tiny bit, at the suggestion. She seems to care about him, even though they were practically strangers, a thought that makes his heart jump. He rubs his head tentatively, pointedly looking at his feet as he says, “I mean, if you want to…”
“Of course! Come on!”
She pushes open the double doors, exclaiming “Bang bang into the room!” as they enter.
“It’s Nicki Minaj!” comes an instant, gleeful, collective response.
He stares at the rows of people sitting at tables in front of a projector, the Barbz U logo glowing against the wall. This must be the seminar. It must not have started yet, because everyone gets up and swarms around Nicki, pushing him away, until he stands awkwardly at the edge of a cluster of squealing students.
Alone again, Dan Heng is. He sighs. Nicki probably won’t bother with him now. He finds an empty seat at a deserted table, and plunks down in it. Might as well make himself comfortable.
“Dan Heng, wait for me!”
Or not.
She shuffles over, as best one can in six inch platform heels, sliding into the seat next to him. “I hope you don’t mind if some friends join us.”
He glances up. A stream of girls fill all the seats at the table, some faces he recognizes, some he doesn’t. Suddenly the library seems to be a spot of interest, bodies flooding in through the doors excitedly. More people make their way over to him and Nicki.
“This is Ice Spice.” Nicki states as a girl materializes next to her. “This is Lizzo, but we call her Lizzie, this is Dua Lipa, this is Pink Pantheress, and the girl sleeping already is Billie Eilish. Trust me, they’re all super nice!”
“Oh.”
“Hey babes, this is Dan Heng! He’s new here. Say hi, Dan Heng.”
“Hi,” he says, with a hesitant smile.
“He’s kinda cute, not gonna lie…” Ice Spice notes.
Dan Heng sinks further into his chair, trying to hide the insistent redness on his face as the group of girls all begin to compliment him one by one, whispers of “adorable” and “fine” barely discernible amongst the chorus of all of them speaking at once. He feels like a dog— a shaking, sickly chihuahua in a sweater, surrounded by excitable middle aged white women. Nicki shushes them, rolling her eyes, and props her elbows on the desk, latex dress squealing with the movement.
“You get used to it. Anyways, I think the seminar’s starting, so let’s watch.”
Sure enough, the lights flock off. The murmurs of Nicki’s friends die off, replaced by the boom of a woman’s voice.
“That’s one of the teachers.” Nicki whispers.
The woman steps on to a platform with a microphone in hand, waving at the crowd of students gathered at her feet. She blows a kiss, earning some hoots, a perfect smile appearing.
“Welcome to Barbz U, bitches!”
The audience erupts into cheer. Nicki puts a hand on Dan Heng’s shoulder, urging him to join in, offering hollering and applause of her own. He puts his hands together in a tiny clap.
“My name is Azaelia Banks, but you can all call me Miss Banks. I’m here today to tell you about what your timetables are going to look like, and explain some of the perks of life on campus. Let’s start with dorms— most of you all come from outside Gag City, so let me explain some ground rules….”
Miss Banks goes through a variety of topics. She introduces some of the professors, the parts of campus, the student life, the work that’s expected, the tuition fees… all things Dan Heng already knows about. He’s done his research. In fact, he wonders why this seminar is needed, if the new students didn’t know this already, that is a cause for concern.
He glances at Nicki Minaj.
Nonetheless, he’s glad he came. He got to meet somebody he wouldn’t have otherwise, somebody he wouldn’t have imagined meeting in his wildest dreams.
The seminar ends on a positive note as Miss Banks hands out timetables to all the new students, including Dan Heng.
“Who do you have?” Nicki says, trying to grab for the paper. He dangles it out of reach, slowly reading off the names.
“I have M. Robbie…”
“I love herrr!” Nicki squeals.
“R. Gosling.”
“He’s a nice guy.”
“And someone named Cardi.”
Nicki makes a loud gagging noise. “I hate her. She’s actually the worst.”
He shrugs again. “I dunno, haven’t met anyone yet.”
“Speaking of, what’s your major, babe?”
He gets up from his seat, stretches his hands, groans audibly. “…History. What about you?”
“Engineering. Because starships, are meant to flyyyy…”
She breaks into song, snapping her fingers and swaying her hips to an imaginary beat as she dances over to his side of the table. She gives him a wink as she brushes by, swinging her Chanel bag over her shoulder as she struts towards the exit. He scrambles to follow.
“A-Are you leaving already?” He stutters. They enter the hallway, Nicki’s pace unwavering.
“I got shit to do, babe. See you tomorrow at lunch? Onika Burgers?”
“Um. Okay.” He says, dumbfounded. She stops for a second, turns to face him, outstretching her hand. Something’s pinched between her fingers.
It’s a slip of paper, a phone number written on it. Dan Heng stares at it.
“Come on, take it. I ain’t got all day.”
He jumps and takes it, shoves it into his pocket and stares some more. He sputters, “What’s this for?”
“Cause’ you got that super bass.”
He blinks to process the comment, and by the time he has a reply ready, she's about to leave.
“See you…?” He blurts, trailing off at the end, brain turned mush and incapable of speech.
She laughs, and turns on her heel to sashay down the hall, leaving him with his jaw on the floor. He was shocked. Flabbergasted, even. He watches a crowd of squealing students form, chasing after Nicki’s retreating form, the echo of her platform heels drowned out by overjoyed shouts and calls.
What a woman.