The house was empty. The aromatic scent of newly-cooked Belgian waffles spread through the dining area, inviting you to take a bite. Your mother is into American dishes these days, although it costs more than traditional food. Last night you had white pasta for dinner. The sauce was thin and the pasta was soggy. Fortunately, the taste was appetizing. Your mother’s a great cook after all so you continued to chew down on the food just to avoid making her sad. 

You’re eating a chocolate brownie straight from the baking tray. When your mother found out you loved eating sweets, she devoted herself in making sure a dessert is served every after meals. You sat at the edge of the velvet couch even though no one else was around for you to share. The television was on, showing a program where entrepreneurs convince the viewers to buy one of their products. The product being advertised is a blender that’s customized to fit your bag. You’re not listening. 

You were zoning out, lost again in your train of thoughts.

It’s safe to say you’re bored. You can’t do the things you used to do. You don’t have the luxury to. If you’re still a trainee, you might be in a studio practicing for the monthly evaluation right now. Or maybe you’d be recording for your debut showcase. You know it’s only in your delusional head but you can’t stop yourself from imagining a scene where you’re finally introduced to the whole world as a person who strived to beat the odds and is now reaching for her dreams. Summoning the idea into your head is easy. You just needed to conjure a euphoric picture of you, clad in designer outfits and waving for the media while they cheered for you. 

Living in your self-made fantasy is an effortless thing to do- going back to the dull real world is not.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips. Your reached out for the baking tray, your hand grasping nothing but crumbs. There are no brownies left. You finished it all. You can’t believe yourself. Back then, you were scolded for touching anything dredged in sugar. Anything with high calories is prohibited. You had to remain stick-thin to please the higher-ups. 

Surely, there are a lot of advantages and disadvantages of not being a trainee anymore. You’re free. You no longer go to bed with dread and wake up with an alarming fear that maybe it will be the last day you’d spend in the dorm. These days you’d wake up with a kiss from your mother and a hot cup of chocolate drink. You don’t need to take extra care of your appearance. Today you’re wearing a plain black t-shirt and floral pajamas. 

But why does it feel like your life back then was much better than your life right now?

Ding, dong. Ding, dong. Ding, dong.

It’s strange, you thought. The dealer in the television is still talking about blenders. Do blenders have built-in doorbells nowadays? 

Ding, dong. Ding, dong. Ding, dong.

The doorbell kept on ringing. For a moment, you suspected yourself of getting Schizophrenia. After all those delusions, you must have lost your mind. Then you realized you weren’t just hearing things in your mind. You were hearing things because someone was ringing your doorbell. 

Hurriedly, you stood up and sprinted for the door. Thinking it was your parents who came home early, you twisted the bronze knob.

“Mom, I have to tell you something-” you said, excitement pouring over you. You were about to tell her you found the recipe for strawberry jam churros in the internet when you saw who was standing before you.

“Wow, your house is huge!” 

It was Yoongi, dressed in all black- black hooded jacket, black pants and black rubber shoes. He looked like her was going to attend a funeral. His left hand was holding a large paper bag. He wore a smirk, as though he was mentally criticizing your poor state. You’re starting to get embarrassed too. You hated yourself for showing up in front of him in such an unflattering manner.

“What’s this? Why are you looking so flustered as if you have seen some gho