After that night in the practice room I had begun to find the dream that I had given up on such a long time ago. I wanted to be a singer again. I wanted to dance and sing on the stage and be part of a group like Namjoon was. 

I had forgotten about it after my father had died. He had always wanted me to be a singer. He had the same dream. Mom called him insane but it was all he had ever wanted to do. He wanted to move us back to America and become a singer. My mother never let him live out that dream before he died. I think now she regretted it. But he told me that I would live out his dream.

Now I was just caught up in grades and studying as my mother wanted. I felt like I was dissapointing him but at the same time I wanted to make her happy. She had given me everything since he was gone.

I reached into my keepsake box and pulled out all of my song books. Many of the songs I had written but there were some of his as well. I read through them smiling. I was good at writing I had to admit. But my father's writing in english was beautiful. I tried to copy it in Korean but couldn't. He was so complex and amazing at what he did. 

I heard my mother coming and I quickly put them away and started on my homework. She walked in. 

"You can't fool me Jeanna." She said.

"Sorry mom." I said embarrased. 

"Jeanna, if you really wanted to still be a singer you know that I would support you. But I also want you to have a back up. I want you to be able to get into college and have a life for yourself in case singing doesnt work out.'

"I know mom. I was just trying to remember dad's writing. It's beautiful. He must have really loved you."

She smiled "Yeah, those songs he never showed to me until he found out about the cancer. He gave them to you because he knew how much you loved music. He was always very proud of you."

I smiled. I was always proud to say that I was his daughter. Even though we had our share of fights and bad times there was never a day that went by that I didn't love him and wish he was still here. 

The next morning I packed all of my song books and an extra change of clothes and walked out the front door. 

"Will you be home for dinner?" Mom asked.

"Depends. I'll text you if not."

"Ok, love you Jeanna." 

"Love you too mom."

He met me by the front door and smiled. 

"Your bag looks heavier than usual." He said.

"It's because I have things I want to show you. Dreams I want to show you."

He smiled. "Big dreams?"

I nodded. "Big dreams."