September 16th.

On this day, I will officially be the happiest girl in the world. The future that my eleven year-old self laid out for me will finally come to fruition, and nothing will ever stand in the way of my ambitions ever again.

Or

On this day, I will be changed; come to terms with the reality everyone grew to know and hate. And as many children will inevitably do, I will grow up.

Sometimes I look back and wish reality had hurried up and smacked me in the face.

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My parents supported me. They could never offer me much; we lived in a one story house with frequent power outages and water shortages on the outskirts of LA. But nonetheless, I always had their support and love to rely on.

"How often will you visit us?" Mom asked me, still nimbly folding my clothes.

"I don't know, maybe a couple times per year? I'm only fifteen. They can't make me go that long without seeing my parents, especially since I have an 'incurable disease'," I joked, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere that had come with the topic of my departure.

The usual smile that would blossom on her face didn't come, and a cold thump knocked on my heart. Thump-thump. Clench.

My half attempted jokes were really lame, and no one ever responded kindly to them. Except Mom. Her fragile face always lit up like a new spring day when I tried to humor her. I wasn't ignorant enough to actually believe that she was amused by my jokes. No, her responses were for my sake only. A little sense of accomplishment was all I needed to go forward with my day, as pitiful as it sounds. But everyone needs that sense of fulfillment; we all just receive ours in different ways. And what if we don't receive it? What happens then? How do we respond? For each and every one of us, we'll respond differently.

"Mom, don't worry. Even if we can't see each other very often, I'll still stay in contact," I assured her, flashing a confident grin. This time, she returned it.

"You know Mom just doesn't want to see you getting hurt," she sighed, "There are far too many traumatizing cases of celebrities ending up ruined once they get caught up with all the expectations and pressure that the public puts on them. Just remember that your father and I will always be here if you feel like you can't take it anymore,"

I nodded, grateful for her understanding. But this is my dream. With every goal people set out for themselves, there are bound to be obstacles to jump over. I just need to keep fighting till I reach the end of my dark tunnel.

Mom folded the last shirt and tossed it in my suitcase.

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Bright and early the next morning, Mom dropped me off at the airport in our hometown. Already late for her job interview, she left me at the gate terminal in front of the golden letters: "Depart to: Seoul, South Korea 10:00 a.m."

Father was due to call me soon, so I waited for the clock to strike nine before calling.

"Dad?"

"Kiara? Are you in Seoul yet?"

"Not yet. I'm waiting in the airport,"

A long silence followed before he finally continued.

"I'm really sorry I can't come to see you before leave. You know how it is at the Old Beehive,"

At the tender age of 7, my Dad had officially decided to move out. After a long and tiring fight against poverty, he wanted to make a change so that I could live more comfortably. Mom cried the Yellow River that night; it seemed like it would never end. He had made his departure to China to work for a global enterprise. Father had nicknamed his company the 'Old Beehive'; he and many of his fellow coworkers always seemed to be stressed with little to no sleep. I'm not really sure what he's been employed to do. Every now and then he'd send a picture of himself to let Mom and I know that he's alright. But when he left eight years ago, he never returned again.

"Don't work too hard Dad," I whispered. He chuckled on the other end; I could almost see the smile lines folding into his aged skin. There wasn't a day I could remember when Dad sounded alive on the other end.

"I should be saying that to you! I've heard of how rigorously trainees have to work to survive as an idol. Remember to take care of yourself Kiara," Dad said.

"I promise to as long as you take breaks more often,"

"Deal,"

I hooked my pinky around his imaginary one, knowing he'll do the same. 

"One more thing Kiara. I want you to be prepared. I know you have the skills and charisma to survive in the industry, but also prepare yourself mentally. It will be difficult, especially for you. But if it's really your dream, don't give up on it. Hang on tight,"

I nodded. It was as if he was really in front of me, giving me this advice.

"Yes father,"

Author's note: Yayyyyyy chapter one is complete^.^ Sorry Taeyong hasn't made an appearance yet, he'll come out next chapter~