“So, do have any brothers or sisters? Nephews or Nieces?”

Okay. So maybe it would’ve been a normal question. I’m sure it would’ve been a normal question if it was… I don’t know, November instead of March. Maybe if my mom hadn’t been a freakishly tall chic with crazy features and if my dad didn’t have a fierce glare under eyebrows of steel. Perhaps it would’ve been a normal question if the ability to rap to British electro-pop didn’t run in the family. It also might have been normal if we’d been religious, or maybe if we’d grew up in China and had no idea what potential laws could be in Canada. Or maybe if my parents weren’t the chosen ones to have an incredibly annoying gay son.

It was a normal question. And everyday question. A question that I had no reason to lie to. “A brother. A soon to be brother-in-law. 12 million nieces and nephews.” I looked up to the sky. “That’s about it.”

The lady who asked the question on the Vancouver Skytrain looked at me like I was from another planet. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t know all of their names of course.” And obviously, she deducted that I was insane and left me alone.

No but seriously. My brother was a very strange creature. So he was a walking, grumpy Nyan Cat pop tart that shat rainbows and was going to get married to his boyfriend when they were old, withered, not famous and not likely to cause some kind of scandal. The fact that he’s gay as heck didn’t really explain why he’d managed to get most of the female population of the world pregnant.

Because really. I went on to his Youtube video to see how his life in the Republic of Korea was going, and then I looked at the comments and… yeah. Could never really think of my bro the same after that. It seems that even a guy who’s dyed his hair grey, has eyebrows that look like caterpillars and whose fake smile is about as convincing as Santa Claus can make a market for his ity on Youtube. Because honestly, who the hell actually believes that his pants are the secret portal to EXO planet?

So anyway. Being the sister of EXO’s Kris Wu is the weirdest experience in my life. Even weirder than that time him and Vivian convinced my dad that they were dating. I’m packed up with three suitcases — two and a half of his stuff and half of mine (told you he was a secretly a diva), on the way to YVR Airport. 

I had like these heavy-duty and first class tickets for the plane to Seoul and some nosebleed section family tickets for EXO’s debut showcase. Uh-huh. Like their debut hasn’t happened yet. Two songs and their debut ‘hasn’t happened yet’. As soon as I get into Seoul I’m going to slap some Canadian Wisdom into this genius- marketing director (who may or may not be responsible for the fact that my extended family includes half of China).

Like really WTF is a prologue single anyway?