"You want to leave? Fine. Leave!"

 

"Chan, I don't understand why you're angry at this." Releasing a sharp breath, my hands reach out for his. "Didn't I tell you that that was the last straw? If they didn't give me any sort of approval, I'm leaving."

 

"Yeah. I heard you the first time." He sighs, running his hands on his face. "And clearly, you didn't heard me when I told you to stay."

 

"I never wanted to be an idol and you know that."

 

"That's right. You never wanted to be an idol. Why are you here, then?!"

 

My heart stopped and my breath got stuck somewhere in my throat. In this mirrored room, with that question, my eyes couldn't see anything but those heavy tears running down his cheeks, his clenched jaw as he holds himself back, and his labored breath.

 

I never wanted to be an idol.

 

So, what am I doing here in the first place?

 

Not knowing my answer, my eyes continue to place themselves on him. Maybe, if I look deep enough I'd find the answer.

 

Why?

 

Why am I in JYP? Why am I in a company that specializes in debuting idols when I never wanted to be one.

 

I don't know.

 

A few seconds pass and his fists loosen. He lets another sigh escape his nose as he turns around before slamming the door behind him. The shuffling of shoes follows him not a moment later.

 

Pressing my eyes shut, I forced a breath out as I sling my bag before leaving the building - the cold air greeting me as soon as my feet steps out. Looking up, my heart burns more painfully as my eyes take up the beauty of the sky. How is the world so cheerful when I just had an argument with my friend? Does it not know how to read the atmosphere?

 

Great.

 

Chan is angry at me. Jisung and Changbin probably heard us. I'm on the verge of leaving the company and now I have idea what to do. 

 

All I want is for my music to be out there. Is it wrong to strive for it?

 

Grandma once told me that mom loved music so much, she couldn't last a day without listening to it and that she dreamt of being a singer but the universe, as cruel as it is, had a different plan. Although, grandma was happy that somehow a part of her daughter lives me. That's why when I told her that someone from the Big 3 took interest on me, she personally packed my guitar and notebook and threw me out of the house to auditon.

 

What do I tell her now, then? Her grandchild doesn't want to be in the company anymore?

 

It's not like I'm giving up on my music. I just want to do my music as freely as I can. I don't need those stupid dance lessons for it.

 

Ah! What should I do?

 

As if I needed another problem.

 

"Oh! What are you doing outside? Come in already."

 

Huh?

 

Shaking my thoughts away, grandma slowly comes into view. I'm home already? I didn't know how many deep breaths I took today, but I need another one before taking my shoes off to step inside. Leaving my things at the sofa, I lazily enter the kitchen where the table was already set.

 

"What's this?" I scratch my head. "Did you cooked all of this, grandma?"

 

"Of course I did."

 

"What for? Why? What's happening? That's a lot of food, though. You could've just ordered if you wanted to eat this many. I'll pay for it. Why did you even cooked this much?"

 

"Ey, this kid." Grandma sighs. "Why are you running your mouth as soon as you come home, huh? Why would I order when I can cook, you rascal."

 

Side-eyeing her, I take my usual seat. "Why? What are all of this for?"

 

Grandma only smiles, takes the seat across me, and with her calloused hands, she held mine. "Your class adviser called earlier asking if I know that you placed third in your school. It's a good thing to celebrate, isn't it?"

 

I forgot all about that.

 

"Still! You shouldn't have cooked this much. You shouldn't have pushed yourself that hard." I complain as I watch her eyes disappear behind her widening smile. "Besides, there's only the two of us. How can we finish all of this?"

 

"Well, call you friends. Let's celebrate together." 

 

She lists down the names I always mention as she folds her fingers with mirth. 

 

"Oh, Chan!" She beams. "That sweet kid that once walked you home. Call him, too."

 

My heart jumps at the mention of his name and our fight flashes in my mind. How do I tell her that I'm scared to call a sweet kid? How do I tell her we're not okay or how I'm not doing well in the company?

 

Wait. No. No. No. She might notice it if I continue thinking it.

 

"Didn't I buy you a phone a while ago?" I ask her, trying to change the topic. "I saved my number there. It's the only number there. You could've just called me and tell us to go straight here. They're all home and they can't walk out now. It's night already and minors aren't really allowed out."

 

"Ey. How should I know how to use a phone? I'm old." She dismissed. "Earlier, I tried using it. It wouldn't even turn on. The screen is black no matter what I do."

 

Taking a spoonful of rice, I raise a brow at her. "Did you press the one I told you to when you want it on? The one on the side? Give it to me."

 

She hands me her phone, taking a bite of radish kimchi as she watches me judgingly. Pressing the power button for a few seconds, nothing happened. 

 

"Did you charged this?"

 

"What?" She asks without a care.

 

That's right.

 

Just eat, grandma. Don't mind me here.

 

Well, that makes a whole lot of sense. I'll just charge this after eating.