[CONTENTID1]Chocolate Cake[/CONTENTID1]

[CONTENTID2]6[/CONTENTID2]

[CONTENTID3]Today was January 6th.  

Shuhua lied wide awake in bed. Her room was lit up by the string lights that hung on her wall. Her eyes were glued to her phone, diligently keeping track of the time. Currently, it was 2:00 A.M. in South Korea, so it was 1:00 A.M. in Taiwan. She was buzzing with anticipation. She couldn't wait to see her parents' smiling faces through her phone screen when they would wish her a happy birthday. Unfortunately, the anticipation did nothing but facilitate her sleeplessness. It was too early to call them but her body wasn't allowing her to rest, so to pass the time, she played games on her phone until her eyes felt dry and irritated. 

Now, it was 6:00 A.M. in South Korea—5:00 A.M. in Taiwan. Shuhua's restless brain was finally feeling the built-up fatigue that accumulated silently over these past few hours, but it was nearly time to get up and tackle the day. She let out a long sigh, rubbing away the tiredness away from her eyes. She got out of bed to brush her teeth, wash her face, and change out of her pajamas into a new set of freshly washed clothes: a green shirt and some baggy sweatpants. 

The hands of the clock that hung in her living room revealed that it was almost 7:00 A.M. after she finished preparing for the day ahead of her. Despite the fact that the sun had barely risen, she reached for her phone to facetime her parents. She had an hour to talk to them before she had to head to the company. Shuhua searched for her mother's contact number and pressed the small blue phone-shaped icon next to her name. A few rings later, her mother's sleepy face appeared on the screen. Shuhua concluded that she was still in bed, seeing that her mother was still in a nightgown and her father's thunderous snores could be heard clearly in the background.

"Good morning, my sweet daughter! Happy birthday! Wow, look at you! You look so mature now! Have you been eating well? Have you been resting enough? Aiyah, your face looks thinner. Make sure not to skip your meals, okay?" her mother exclaimed in a rush, all the traces of initial weariness disappeared from her face. Shuhua couldn't even get a word in before her mother spoke again. "Hold on, let me wake up your father...I swear this man could sleep through an earthquake." Her mother turned away from the screen and proceeded to nudge at the man beside her. "Honey! Shuhua is on the phone. Wake up and talk to your daughter!" Her mother raised her voice—giving up on the silent tactic she was utilizing beforehand—to overpower the sound of her husband's snores successfully waking him from his slumber.

His eyes blinked open in confusion. "Why are you being so loud in the morning, woman?" he complained upon hearing the shrill voice of his wife. His eyes connected to the bright screen of his wife's phone to see his daughter's amused face. "My precious daughter is here! Shuhua, happy birthday. You're growing up too fast. Slow down for your old man, will you?" he exclaimed happily, diverting all of his attention away from his wife to his daughter. 

"If only you were that sweet to me," her mother joked. To which her father replied by wrapping his arms around his wife and holding her in a tight embrace. "You know how much I love you. How could I not love you for bringing my beautiful daughter into this world," her father said sweetly to appease his wife. "He's only like this when you're here Shuhua," her mother told her through the screen in a playful manner while laughing at her husband's antics. A blind person could see the love present in both of their eyes. Her parents may always bicker over the smallest things but at the end of the day, they couldn't live without each other. 

Shuhua had a smile plastered on her face as soon as the call began. It had been a while since she had heard her native tongue. Sure, she texted her family daily but hearing her parents speak brought joy to her ears. "I wanted to call you as soon as I woke up. Sorry for waking you. I know it's early but I missed you both. A lot," Shuhua expressed sincerely, finally being able to talk for the first time during the call. naturally let the familiar Chinese dialect flow out, relishing the ease she felt when communicating in her first language.

"Don't apologize. We are just glad to see you're doing well. You are, right?  Everything is okay over there in South Korea?" her mother asked with trace amounts of worry slipping through her tone. 

"Don't worry, mom. I'm doing well here. My vocal and dance teachers have been complimenting me so much lately. I must be improving a lot! And Minnie's helped me so much with Korean. I'm learning so much here," Shuhua reassured her parents. A white lie to assuage her parents' perturbation wouldn't harm anyone, Shuhua reasoned to herself. She definitely wasn't going to mention all the times she had cried late at night in the practice rooms or in the dreaded stairwell. There was no point in worrying them. 

"I've always known our Shuhua would be just fine living on her own," her father announced with pride emanating from his voice.

Shuhua smiled at her father's compliment. "Oh, and don't worry. I've been eating well. And I made a new friend too. She's really good at cooking so she cooks for me a lot these days, " Shuhua added truthfully. 

"Oh really? Bring her over the next time we call! I would love to meet her," her mother replied. Her mother had always felt guilty for agreeing to let Shuhua pursue her dreams in Korea. Of course, there was no such thing as a manual to guide her through the ups and downs of parenting. A mother's life would be far too easy if there was one. Thus, when Shuhua told her she wanted to go to Korea, she made a tough decision to go against her instinct to protect her daughter from any inevitable hardships she would face in a foreign country and allowed her to go. Consequently, she constantly questioned if she was a good mother for allowing her teenage daughter to live by herself—two hours by plane—away from her family. She was extremely grateful to hear that Shuhua found some friends that acclimated her to her new environment. 

"Sure, I'll ask her," Shuhua agreed, content with how her mother seemed to visibly relax at the mention of Soojin.

"Do you have plans for the day?" her father asked. "Are you going to have dinner with your friends?"

"Don't worry dad, I won't spend the day alone," Shuhua replied, embellishing the truth. She would spend the day surrounded by other trainees. Not the most ideal celebration, but they didn't have to know that. She quickly diverted the topic, "How have you two been?"

"The house is so much quieter with only one daughter in the house, so we've been doing just fine. No need to worry about us over here," her father replied cheekily, earning a smack on the shoulder from her mother. Shuhua had one younger sister and one older sister. The younger one was still attending high school, while the older one was working her way through medical school—both of them would probably send her 'happy birthday' texts throughout the day. It was a fact that Shuhua was loud on her own, but imagine the disaster that a younger (even more hyper) version of herself combined with the noise of her two siblings could cause. It's commendable that both of her parents' hair was not graying from all the stress their three daughters undoubtedly caused them.

They continued to talk about how their lives were like apart from each other. Amidst the lighthearted conversation, her father told her he was going to be working less this year. He wanted to make time so that both he and his wife could visit their daughter. 

"Really?! Dad is a workaholic. How did you convince him to take it easy this year, mom?" Shuhua asked with her eyes wide in shock. Her father was an amazing, loving father to all of his daughters. He was the kind of dad that would sneak you a candy bar, despite his wife's strict ban on those processed sugar bombs in the house, when you were feeling sad. He always wanted to make sure his daughters were happy—whenever he was there, that is. Running a large tech company with more than 500 employees was a time-consuming task that often required late nights spent at his company rather than his home. 

"Actually, Shuhua, I decided it was time I spent more time with my family," her dad replied, swinging his arm around his wife and giving her a kiss on her temple. She leaned into him and added lovingly, "He's not lying. I didn't have to move a finger." Her dad continued with his eyes earnestly looking at his daughter through the screen, "I don't want to miss out on my kids growing up anymore. I feel like I blinked and here you are. Already 17. I still remember when you were this small," he finished pinching two of his fingers together. "I feel like I missed out on all of your childhoods," he explained, expressing his regret about not being as present as he should've been in his three daughters' lives. "I don't want to miss the next stages of your lives too."

Her eyes were beginning to moisten but she quickly tried to look at anywhere other than the phone screen in front of her, to blink away the tears that were forming. When she looked back at the screen after gaining her composure, her parents were smiling widely at the screen. "We'll visit soon so don't miss us too much. Even if it gets difficult in Korea, keep working hard, okay? You can do it. We believe in you."

Their words rendered her attempts to stop crying useless. Her eyes began tearing up again, a few rushed down her cheeks from the overwhelming happiness she was feeling from their support. She didn't know how much she needed to hear those words until now.

"I love you," Shuhua said through her choppily through her tears. 

Her mother started to chuckle, with tears beginning to form in her own eyes, "We love you too. Aiyah! Now stop crying! You're making me cry now."

After a few more tears, they began to say their goodbyes. Shuhua cleaned up her tear-stained cheeks. It was time for her to head to the company now. We believe in you. The words rang in her head over and over again, sparking a newfound motivation in her as she walked toward the company.

Dance class was first. Shuhua struggled to keep up with today's quick, intricate footwork. Her teacher critiqued her movements more than she complimented them today. It wasn't a big deal. Shuhua tried her best and that would have to be enough for today.

Not a big deal, at all.

Korean class was next. It was just one of those days. Korean words just wouldn't come to her mind quickly enough. Maybe it was her lack of sleep that was making her brain foggy. It wasn't a big deal, though. Today was just another hitch in the road to fluency. She would get over it. 

Not a big deal, at all.

Vocal class was last. She sang the same few lines over and over. was beginning to feel hoarse. Her diaphragm was exhausted. However, her vocal teacher still wore a poker face by the end of class which indicated that her singing was not satisfactory today. It wasn't a big deal, though, she continued to tell herself and headed up to an empty practice room at the top floor of the building.

Not a big deal. She told herself, almost like a chant, as her feet moved up step by step, up the stairwell. She'll do better next time. 

Shuhua learned from experience that most of the trainees had already left the company at this hour and those who stayed wouldn't bother to walk up the mountain of stairs this late in the day. She would be undisturbed up here.

She went over what she learned in her dance class again. And again, and again, and again. One foot after the other. Repeating the music countless times until she lost feeling in the bottoms of her feet. No matter how much sweat she poured, her body wouldn't give he