City of Shared Stories Kuala Lumpur

She was too horrified to do it. But her boss insisted: "You'll be disgusted the first time. Then you'll get used to it. After a while, you might even like it."

Her body tensed at the thought. She refused to believe it. What would her parents -- and her younger siblings who looked up to her -- think about what she did for a living?

"Look at it this way," he added, deliberately. "Everyone else is doing it."

Translation: if she didn't comply, she would be replaced. After all, there were many more where she came from. All those kids from the degree mill, bending over backwards to prove themselves.

She practised doing it after hours, by herself. But she blushed and couldn't continue. She thought of quitting, but where would she go? This was her dream job. And really, what harm could it do -- especially since everyone else was doing it?

So she complied. The first time, it looked odd even to her. Look at that word, in big letters, in a headline! But the squeamishness, surprisingly, was not permanent. Although there was a bit of nausea, she did not actually throw up. Perhaps she could even pretend the word was a variant of Indomie. There, that wasn't so difficult. She liked Indomie, it had seen her through journalism school. No reason to throw up at a cousin of Indomie.

The first time wasn't the last. Her bosses noticed a spike in sales each time the word was emblazoned on the front page. They complimented her, took her for meals where the noodles were decidedly not the instant variety. "I could get used to this," she thought, and before she knew it, that's what happened.