Hi! I'm Lee Sunkyu just call me Sunny! I was recording my self then suddenly my dad called up.

"Sunny its dinner time!" my father called up the stairs.                                                                                                                                                                                            I groaned. I wanted to say I wasn't hungry, but my stomach was rumbling in a way that was impossible to ignore. I tossed down the Cosmo Girl magazine I'd been reading the whole day.  I brushed my hair put some mascara on and I dragged myself out of my bed. Dinner time was not my favorite time of the day. For starters, my darling stepmother has all these rules. We're supposed to behave the way normal families do with some "class" as my stepmother is fond of saying. Dinner must be eaten in the dining room. We're also engage in polite conversation. This is a total joke, considering that my stepmother and i can't stand with each other nor my half sister. My half sister is mostly inetersted in Teletubbies, or that my dad can't wait to esacape and go read The Wall Street Journal.                                                                                                                                    Fun, Fun, Fun, I thought myself miserably. I braced myself for the evening's drama as I walked into thedining room. The table look like something from Martha Stewart. White tablecloth, table napkinsand plates. A big, dramatic ceneterpiece with white flowers. In case you haven't guessed, formalities are a major priority in our household. So is the comlete absence of color. Everything is done in blaclk and white . My stepmother thinks beige is too bright.                                                                                                                                                          Dad sat at the head of the table, still dressed in his suit from work. My half sister was wiggling around in her booster seat. I pursed my lips. She reminded me of some kind of fish caught on the dry land. I could hear my stepmother puttering around in the kitchen.                                                                                                           "Hi Sunny!"  My half sister said brightly as i seat into the chair.                                                                                               "Hi!"  I mumbled. As far as kids go, I guess my half sister isn't all that bad. But still, she is three and I'm still the one who gets stuck of baby-sitting her most of the time. I glanced across the table. "Hey,  He cleared his throat, then coughed akwardly. "Um...hi," he said.                                                                                            I stared at him for a second. Dad seemed even more nervous than usual. Then again, he always acts nervous when i'm around. He can't look me in the eye, and he talks way too fast it's like he's afraid at any moment I might throw a fit or something. I can't exactly blame him though. I have freaked out more than once. But it's not my fault before. It's totally impossible to maintain control all the time, living in the same house with my stepmother really .                                                                                                                                            "Mommy, I want milk!" My half sister screamed.                                                                                                                    "Coming!" My stepmom answered.                                                                                                                                                     My own drink was already in the table  its diet Coke in a cut-glass wine goblet. Like I said, we're big on formalities here. The food stood waiting in three covered serving dishes. It was wednesday, which meant the dishes contained baked chicken, steamed broccoli and rice.                                                                                       My stepmom coasted into the dining room. She was dressed in a spotless business suit. Her outfit color was charcoal gray-actually a radical color choice for my stepmom.                                                                                                                                                                                                  "Here's your milk, sweetie." My stepmom put a cup in front of my half sister. She caught dad's eye as she seat into her chair next to my half sister. I saw dad nod almost imperceptibly. So, it means my stepmom and dad had a secret. My stomach tensed.  Suddenly I wasn't hungry anymore. The last secret nearly killed me. My dad and my stepmom had dropped a major bomb on me a couple of weeks ago when i knew my stepmom was pregnant. The way they acted when they told me was... well, it was sickening. They couldn't have more excited about having another kid. That news really made me depressed I don't wanna baby-sit again! I already spent half of my life baby-sitting my half sister. I was not looking forward to living with a new screaming, smelly brat!                                                                                               My stepmom uncovered the food, and we started to pass it around.                                                                                         "Would you like some french fries?" Dad asked me.                                                                                                                          My jaw dropped. My stepmom never changes the menu every wednesday so why did she cooked some fries?  My stepmom never eats fries because she says they're loaded with fat and salt and they're bad for digestion.                                                                                                                                                                                                       "Um... sure," I said.                                                                                                                                                                                   Dad passed the fries.                                                                                                                                                                                    I took some fries and I swallowed them. Nobody spoke not even my half sister. We all watched as my stepmom put a couple of steamed brocolli and a piece of chicken on my half sister's plate."So...how was school today, sweetie?" My stepmom asked me.                                                                                         Sweetie? My stepmom had never once called me sweetie ever. And she had to be talking to me because my half sister didn't go to school today. I dropped my fork. It fell to the plate with a sharp clatter."What's going on here?" I demanded.                                                                                                                                         My stepmom looked to my father. I was really confused and i'm getting a bad vibe. Either my Dad and my mom was divorced because of my stupid-alien-stepmom I really think they're hiding something huge from me. An awful thought flashed into my mind. I think my stepmom is having twins? I slid my hands under the table and I prayed:" Please don't let it be Lord I don't wanna have another half siblings." Baby sitting for one kid was bad enough. Two was awful but unavoidable. Three?! wouldn't be terminal.                               Dad squirmed in his seat and stared at his table napkin. He cleared his throat again. Finally he looked up to me.                                                                                                                                                                                                                       "I got a call from your mother today," Dad said.                                                                                                                       I was just still in my seat and shocked. Mom? No wonder they were acting freakish. The mere mention of my mother is enough to raise the tension in Dad and my stepmom's house to meltdown level. But why hadn't mom called me? she never talked to Dad if she couldn't avoid it."What did she say?" I asked shockingly.                                                                                                                                     "She's coming to town," Dad nodded. He sounded like his best friend had just died.                                                      My heart began to race. I took a deep breath and let it slowly. Now this....this was good news. Very good news. I hardly ever saw Mom. I hadn't seen her in almost two years, in fact. My parents got divorced when I was six. The lawyers and judges thought my father should get custody of me just because mom is a high-powered fashion photographer and magazines like Elle and Vogue are always flying her all over the world.     That's how I started my prison sentence in this house. Of course, Mom tries to stay in touch with me as much as possible. She sends me postcards all the time from cool places like Seoul, South Korea and Philippines. And she always calls on my birthday. But her travels never ever bring her to Los Angeles. There aren't a lot of fashion magazines in Los Angeles. That's why she lives in New York City. Right after the divorce, she moved into an apartment in downtown Manhattan. I've never actually been there, but i'm sure her place in New York City is totally glamorous. Foir instance, I bet it contains actual colors. Unlike some places i know that are so lousy.                                                                                                                                                      "When is she coming?" I asked casually.                                                                                                                                                "Friday," Dad said. His expression was frail but I could tell he wasn't excited.                                                             Friday, I thought. Two days away. So soon. I didn't even know what to think. My brain felt like it had been plugged into an electric socket. I couldn't focus.                                                                                                                     My stepmom sighed. "I wish your mother had given us more notice" my stepmom said sourly like she don't want to see my mom. My stepmother hates surprises and spontaneity as much as she hates bright colors.   "Where's she staying?" I asked to dad.                                                                                                                                                                                          "The Mercer Grand, the company is paying for the room." Dad answered.                                                                   OMG! The Mercer Grand is very Hollywood, very cool. I couldn't wait to go meet my mom there. I could just imagine it: There we would be me and my mom, sitting in the hotel lobby, surrounded by rock stars and famous actors and actresses.....hanging, bonding, sharing a little mother-and-daughter talk. But for some reason, my stomach felt funny. It was almost the feeling I get when I have to take a big exam I haven't studied for. A definite ache.                                                                                                                                                               It was nothing, though my stepmom was probably right about french fries after all it really make your stomach constipated.....hmmmmmm I don't care if i'm constipated what i'm thinking now is to see mom.

            ~END OF CHAPTER 1~