The First Asian Character I Fell For

Do you remember your first fictional crush? Was she the bombshell blond vampire slayer Buffy in her title show, or the fallen angel Patch Cipriano in Becca Fitzpatrick’s Hush Hush? Let’s face it, the early 2000’s gave us a series of heartthrobs to fall for. However, most of these were the traditional Anglo-Saxon types except for the Jacob Blacks (Twilight) or the Jebediah Holts (Splintered) of the literary world. Hardly anyone was Asian.

Why do I specifically call this out? Well, in case you didn’t know I am very attracted to Asians. Present Tense. My husband-to-be is Filipino, just to give you a reference. I credit my preference to my childhood infatuation with Japanese culture, anime and manga, Japanese and Korean boy bands and TV dramas. However, I never quite pursued literary stories with Asian love interests. I was mainly fixated on the alluring fantasy worlds, not quite caring about the appearance of the leads, and I was getting my fill from live-action dramas. I was content. Until eventually I was not.

It was 2016. I was working at my university’s bookstore when I stumbled upon the New York Times Bestselling author Nicola Yoon and her book: The Sun is Also a Star.

For context, the story follows two main characters–Natasha Kingsley, a scientific and pragmatic girl who is unfortunately about to be deported to Jamaica even though she’s lived in the US all her life, and Daniel Bae Won, a hopeless romantic type set on a specific path to become a doctor as designated by his family despite his lackluster feelings about his future. The narration shifts between our protagonists as well as a third-person omniscient presence which readers are encouraged to believe is the universe. The two have a fateful encounter in which Daniel bets Natasha that he can make her fall in love with him in a day. Pragmatic logic versus hopeful romance play together as the two spend the whole day together before their destinies can pull them apart and back onto their respective paths.

So, why did I fall in love with Daniel Bae Won? A teenage boy, a hopeless romantic?

Well, for starters his name is Daniel. Yes, the name matters. I’ve always had a soft spot for this name, considering it a worthy “love interest” name in so much that a protagonist in one of my ongoing projects shares the same name. As a writer–and maybe even general readers have sensed this–I believe that names have power. Names can bring a sense of personality, a preconception of appearance, a level of attraction. There’s a reason why we are drawn to soft, Victorian names for females, or strong, heroic names for males. An identity is already embedded in them. For me, my Daniel is also Asian. He is more of a mysterious romantic type whereas Yoon’s Daniel is more of a young boy trying to find his place in the world, wrestling with his destiny. Regardless, I can’t help but romanticize him due to my own biases. There’s also the matter of ethnicity. My eyes lit up seeing the Korean surname because I was intent on finding romances between diverse leads as a means of inspiration for my own work.

The second reason–Daniel is written as a unique, charming character. You’re probably reading this thinking, wait …what about his appearance? Isn’t it the description of his dark, almond eyes and chiseled features that makes you blush? What about how he flirts with the love interest? Doesn’t that make your heart race? Don’t these things matter? Well, yes and no. Do you remember growing up and hearing someone tell you that beauty is on the inside? Personality is just as important and when Daniel is introduced, you can understand his personality perfectly. You can hear his voice loud and clear. His inner turmoil regarding his obligations to his family, how he wears his heart on his sleeve, his wit and charm, all comes through in both dialogue and narration. My imagination fills in the rest. I can picture this tall, lean teen physique with silky black hair and gorgeous, deep eyes. I can hear his voice when he makes the love-bet with Natasha. His energy and disposition is thrilling and I can imagine what it would feel like to be courted by someone like him. It makes me want to be Natasha, to experience what she is experiencing. That’s what gets me blushing.

After that comes his appearance. But understand that we readers do not get any grandiose summary of his appearance anytime soon. In fact, it is 68 pages before he’s even directly mentioned as being sexy. 68 pages until Natasha meets Daniel at a record store, speaks with him, dismisses him, is saved from almost getting hit by a car, dismisses him again and then takes full stock of him before narrowing in on the ponytail that allows her to see him as “sexy.”

That’s a long ass time.

We are so accustomed to an immediate meet-cute, the obvious assessment of attraction, that it does make one wonder why not jump into it right away? Why was that moment prolonged? Was this intentional on Yoon’s part? Did she want us to work for that little bit of pay off?

I’m inclined to believe in the affirmative because of the stigma that’s been around for as long as I can remember convincing the majority of viewers and readership that Asian men are not attractive. Understand that it’s only been a few years since this stigma has been challenged in at least television and cinemas thanks to actors like Henry Goulding in the film adaptation of Crazy Rich Asians, or his role in Last Christmas. The same thing can be said for Simu Liu in the film Shangchi. You can even credit BTS for their sudden popularity in mainstream American culture for some of this. But prior to that, the industry has traditionally excluded Asian men—Chinese, Korean, Filipino, Indian, Japanese, etc—from being considered as “hot” or “attractive.” Instead, their characters have been limited to short and funny, nerdy and passive, and so forth. The strong, tall and dominant archetypes were still not within reach unless it was for a martial arts movie, and even then we were limited to Jackie Chan and Jet Li, actors whose stories remained in either action or comedy themes. One of my favorite examples is the 90’s film Romeo Must Die, a modern spin on the Romeo and Juliet love story that, while containing semi-flirtatious moments, really boiled down to a turf war between feuding families of two minority races. Romance was very limited. Inevitably, representation in media affects our perception, and when left to imagine what an attractive romantic lead looks like in literature, our mind only goes to what is familiar and the stigmas prevail.

So, knowing what she was up against, Yoon probably considered how best to highlight Daniel’s most attractive features before outwardly describing his appearance. Therefore, by the time Natasha did deem him as “sexy,” we readers could see and believe it regardless of our perception of Asian men.

This brings me to the third reason I fell for Daniel Bae Won. He was the romance I would have wanted in high school. Here was a young boy who reminded me of high school crushes and could deliver a very real, tangible romantic experience. He fell almost instantly for Natasha and challenged her line of thinking. He struggles with very real challenges that I could relate to as an Indian American. He took Natasha out on what might as well have been considered a day-long date in NYC, having their first intense kiss at a karaoke bar. I fell for him because it was very much an experience I would have wanted if I were Natasha. And that is an important part to it–wanting to be Natasha, wanting to be part of that once-in-a-lifetime romance as it was written, when everything did not make sense except for the universe propelling you to meet the one person who makes your heart race and ache all at the same time.

This third reason emphasizes the universal theme of romance transcending race and personal perceptions. It’s not just about the physical or cultural, it’s about connecting with the characters and getting caught up in the romance. You feel like you want to be there, living that moment, part of that reality. That’s why I fell in love with Daniel Bae Won.

Lucky for me, my fiance really is my real-life Daniel Bae Won, and I hope that everyone gets lucky enough to find their own literary heartthrobs in real life.

Edited by Lindsey Huddleston.