They are neighbors who learned to walk on the same day in the rainforest of Mindanao. We climbed trees together, starved together, were sent to training camps for Filipino maids together, were fired from our jobs in Hong Kong because of our accent, and cried together in a basement in Dubai. They thought that when they arrived in Amsterdam together, they could live together.
But there is only one runway in the canal zone, and only one person can stand on it.
Maria ran inside. She put on fluorescent sportswear, sculpted her body in the cold early morning wind, recited poetry with standard pronunciation, and became the "elite nanny" that employers competed for. And Julianne, because of her stout figure and ordinary appearance, could only walk into the back kitchen of the Sichuan hotpot restaurant in the Canal District, struggling to survive in the fumes and burns.
They still live together and still call each other sisters. But something quietly cracked between them - Maria ran faster and faster, and Julianne fell deeper and deeper. Until late one night, Julianne spilled the hot pot of soup and made the call for help.
A story about two girls, a runway, and a threshold that can never be crossed at the same time.
Concept: Two fruits on the same vine are measured to different abyss by the same ruler.