The morning of the event, Ruby was up before her alarm.
She stared at the ceiling for a long time before moving. Her stomach churned with nerves. Nerves she couldn't talk herself out of. This wasn't just about an event. It was about redemption. About proving that she wasn't a liability. That she could carry the weight of a mistake and still stand up straight.
By the time she arrived at the forward event deck, the crew had already begun rolling out the tables. A few catering staff were assembling the food station, carefully heating trays of lu rou fan and stirring large pitchers of milk tea. The air already smelled faintly of five spice and sweet taro.
Ruby made her rounds in silence, checking her notes for the hundredth time. The video loop for the puppet theater was running smoothly. The sample puppets were lined up on a black velvet display board, just as she'd planned. The tea ceremony table had already been prepped by the volunteers: Mr. and Mrs. Liao, who greeted her with warm smiles and reassuring nods. She smiled back, grateful, but it didn't reach her eyes.
Carla arrived, walking briskly in flats, her brows raised as she scanned the setup.
~ Carla: "Looks good. You feeling alright?"
~ Ruby: "I think so. Just… waiting." she nodded too quickly.
~ Carla: "You did the work. It shows. Breathe a little."
Carla gave her a short squeeze on the shoulder and moved off to check on catering.
The event space was beginning to fill. By noon, a soft but steady stream of guests had wandered through the various stations. The catering staff, alert and efficient, refilled trays of street food as quickly as they emptied. A volunteer gently guided a guest's hand across rice paper, showing her how to shape the strokes of a character meaning "peace." The puppet display had drawn a small crowd, with children and grandparents alike pressing in close to watch the looped footage of swirling dragons and ancient legends.
It was working. On paper, at least.
But Ruby couldn't relax.
Every time someone lingered too long at a station, she felt her chest tighten. Every laugh was a relief. Every frown, real or imagined, sent her thoughts spiraling. Did they think it was boring? Too sanitized? Too safe? Did they want more politics, less culture? More food, less context? Would Mr. Wen think she was hedging? Would Carla think she was too cautious? She didn't know how to win anymore. Only how to hold on.
A man near the food table complimented the scallion pancake. A woman clapped quietly at the end of the puppet video. A teenage boy asked one of the volunteers where he could learn more about Taiwanese street art. It was Good signs. Small victories.
But the young woman couldn't stop scanning the crowd for Mr. Wen. He hadn't shown. Neither had Evander. And somehow, that only made it worse. The longer she waited, the more the weight pressed down. She felt like a plane circling the runway, running out of fuel.
"He's not coming. Or worse… he's watching and saying nothing." She thought
She paced lightly near the far edge of the event space, pretending to read her clipboard, glancing at every new arrival with a quiet stab of dread. Her uniform collar scratched against the back of her neck. Her feet ached in her flats. Her nerves buzzed with static.
A guest approached her with a compliment about the calligraphy station. She smiled, nodded, thanked them but the words came out flat, automatic. Her mind wasn't there. It was still waiting for the verdict.
Every minute he didn't appear was a minute closer to the end of the event. Closer to the moment someone, Carla, maybe Evander would find her and say: "He hated it. You're out."
She gripped the edge of the catering table to steady herself, her breath catching. This wasn't just a cultural event. It was her second chance, her last shot. She couldn't afford to slip. Not again.
A voice behind her made her jump.
~ Jada: "You okay?"
She turned. Her roommate stood nearby, a tray of bubble tea samples in her hands. Her eyes were kind but curious.
~ Ruby: "Yeah. Just... tired. Watching. Hoping."
Jada gave her a sympathetic look.
~ Jada: "Looks like people are loving it. You pulled this off."
Ruby tried to smile. But the fear still sat in her throat like a stone.
🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️
🛳️ 🛳️
🛥️ 🛥️
⛴️ 𝑵𝒐 𝑺𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒃𝒐𝒓 ⛴️
🚢 🚢
⛴️ ⛴️
🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️
The event was in full swing now. Guests moved between stations, sipping tea, sampling lu rou fan, and watching the puppet theater with interest. The redhead stood off to the side, her clipboard clutched tightly, eyes scanning the crowd. Every smile, every nod of approval, was a small relief. But the knot in her stomach remained.
Then she saw him. Mr. Wen entered the event space with a measured stride, his expression unreadable. He was impeccably dressed, as always, his presence commanding. He paused near the entrance, taking in the scene before him.
Her breath caught. She straightened her posture, trying to appear composed. Her mind raced with questions. Would he see the event as a success? Had she done enough to honor the culture without crossing any lines?
Mr. Wen moved slowly through the stations, observing each with a critical eye. He lingered at the tea ceremony, exchanged a few words with the volunteers, then proceeded to the puppet theater, watching the performance intently. At the food station, he sampled a bite of lu rou fan, nodding slightly.
Ruby watched from a distance, her heart pounding. Every gesture, every expression, was scrutinized. She couldn't read him. Was he pleased? Disappointed? Indifferent?
Finally, Mr. Wen turned and made his way toward her. Ruby's throat tightened. She braced herself.
He stopped in front of her, his gaze steady.
~ Mr. Wen: "Miss Walker," he said, his tone neutral.
~ Ruby: "Mr. Wen," she replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
He paused, then gave a slight nod.
~ Mr. Wen: "A commendable effort" he said, his tone held weight not warmth, not praise. Just a measured acknowledgment.
Ruby forced herself to hold his gaze.
~ Ruby: "Thank you, sir. I tried to be thoughtful. I hope it wasn't too… cautious."
~ Mr. Wen: "Cautious is better than careless. At least you did not insult my country this time."
That landed like a stone in her stomach. Her throat tightened. She nodded, unable to say more.
~ Mr. Wen: "Though I did notice…"
His eyes flicked over her shoulder, toward the puppet display, toward the printed summary she'd crafted carefully, cautiously.
~ Mr. Wen: "You avoided all mention of political history. All reference to sovereignty. To the mainland."
Ruby's breath caught.
~ Mr. Wen: "Why is that?"
She hesitated. Her voice felt too small.
~ Ruby: "Because I thought... I believed the safest thing was to focus on what no one could dispute: culture, language, the art of daily life."
He raised an eyebrow.
~ Mr. Wen: "Safe. That word again. You keep choosing it."
Silence pressed between them.
~ Ruby: "I didn't want to create more damage. But I still wanted to honor Taiwan. Properly this time."
Mr. Wen studied her, his expression inscrutable.
~ Mr. Wen: "And yet… you did not take a side."
His words weren't angry. They were sharper than that disappointed, maybe. Testing.
She looked down for a breath, then back up.
~ Ruby: "Maybe that's because I'm not from either side. And because taking a side isn't my place. But listening is."
The space between them went still. She wasn't sure if that was the right thing to say. Or the worst.
But then… He nodded. Just once. Slow. Quiet.
~ Mr. Wen: "You're still a fool," he said, though there was something different in his voice now. "But at least you're a humbled one."
Her mouth twitched, not a smile, just something like breath returning to her face.
~ Mr. Wen: "I'll be watching what you do next. So will others. And if you ever present my culture through someone else's lens again, Miss Walker, I won't hesitate to make sure you're off this ship for good."
~ Ruby: "I understand."
~ Mr. Wen: "Good. Now go. Before I change my mind."
She gave a stiff nod and stepped back. Her legs felt like seaweed. Her heart hammered. But she walked away.
Still standing, still employed. Still Ruby Walker, bruised, but unbroken.
🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️
🛳️ 🛳️
🛥️ 🛥️
⛴️ 𝑵𝒐 𝑺𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒃𝒐𝒓 ⛴️
🚢 🚢
⛴️ ⛴️
🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️
The ship's gentle sway was the only movement in the quiet media lounge. Ruby sat alone, the glow of her laptop casting soft shadows on her face. The video she'd painstakingly crafted played on the screen, showcasing the cultural celebration: the delicate movements of the tea ceremony, the vibrant colors of the puppet theater, the sizzling allure of street food stalls.
Her fingers hovered over the "Upload" button. A simple click, yet it felt monumental. She took a deep breath, recalling Mr. Wen's words, his measured approval, and the weight of his expectations. With a decisive motion, she clicked.
The video began its journey into the digital world, scheduled to go live the next morning. No fanfare, no personal credit, just a quiet offering of redemption.
🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️
🛳️ 🛳️
🛥️ 🛥️
⛴️ 𝑵𝒐 𝑺𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒃𝒐𝒓 ⛴️
🚢 🚢
⛴️ ⛴️
🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️
Morning light filtered through the porthole as her phone buzzed incessantly. Groggy, she reached for it, her eyes widening as she saw the flood of notifications. Comments poured in:
"A beautiful homage to Taiwanese culture."
"Informative and heartfelt. Well done!"
"More features like this, please!"
A warmth spread through her chest, chasing away the lingering shadows of doubt. She had taken a risk, and it had paid off.
Later that day, in the bustling crew lounge, Carla approached, a rare smile on her face.
~ Carla: "Ruby, got a minute?"
Ruby looked up from her tablet, nodding.
~ Carla: "The video...it's getting great feedback. Even Mr. Wen sent a commendation."
~ Ruby: "He did?"
~ Carla: "Yes. He appreciated the respectful portrayal and the focus on cultural elements."
A wave of relief washed over the redhead.
~ Carla: "You've come a long way since the incident. It takes resilience to bounce back like this."
Ruby met Carla's gaze, gratitude evident in her eyes.
~ Ruby: "Thank you for giving me the chance to make it right."
~ Carla: "Just keep this momentum going. You've proven your capability."
As Carla walked away, the young woman felt a renewed sense of purpose. The path ahead was still challenging, but she was no longer walking it in the shadow of past mistakes.