Just kidding! This will be the last flashback. I'm sorry guys if this is boring you....... BUT I PROMISE IT'LL PICK UP SOON. REALLY. Thank you for subscribing, this fic means a lot to me Q.Q

  ---   Moving to Chicago was probably one of the worst decisions you had ever made in your life. It was nothing the way the village and towns people had described when you were back in Beijing. Words of foolish ignorance were clearly spoken when the old ladies gossiped on their porch, uttering nonsensical praises about America as they sipped their Sunday tea.    The moment you arrived on the dry land, you had remembered being gawked at for the first time in your life by people, as if you were wearing your corset the wrong way or you had just appeared in front of them wearing nothing but your bloomers. It didn't feel bashful being looked at in that way, but it sure was heck irritating. You were a lady for God sake, not an animal. Can't they at least greet you with dignity and smiles?   Your father and Kris had assured you that this would only last for awhile, and eventually, the stares would go away. It was evident as to why the city folks were gawking. Around them were no more, and no less than their own people; the whites. While you were surrounded by a group of your own kind. As you got into a small automobile absentmindedly, you had clearly remember not seeing a single asian person in the streets. None. It was as if asians were extinct, or they didnd't exist. The scenes passed on by, but all you saw were the europeans and americans. Everything is different now.   Even the air smelt different around here.   From that moment on, that was when you knew your life had changed.    Your father had bought a large mansion on the outskirts of town. It wasn't too far away from it, but as far as the eye could see, it was far enough if one could not see a single house in view. In a way, it was as if he was trying his best to be incognito.   This mansion was a bit smaller than your old one, and lacked the antique touch which you had grown up loving; it was clear that your father had this house built right before you all moved to Chicago. Much to your dismay, the outer appearance of the mansion and the interior were more modernized in comparison to the mansion in Beijing which was built in the early 1800s.   You loved that mansion though. It was your first home and it held so many memories there.   This mansion however was still fresh. Raw. It was just any other big, rectangular shaped mansion that was painted ivory. You had noticed by now that almost every house you had passed by were typically painted that colour, which made you frown. There were large cupolas and spires that hung above the mansion, with old vines surrounding it protectively. In front of the house was a very wide, freshly cut lawn with beautifully trimmed bushes and a garden of fresh orchids welcoming you to your new home. The house was well taken care of but still, you weren't impressed.    At least... not until the car pulled in closer, and you realized in front of the house was a grand fountain.  It was flowing endlessly with sparkling clear, blue water. You could hear the sound of it splashing almost elegantly as the car made a screech underneath the gravel. Your eyes were wide with amazement.    You had to admit, that won you over in a heartbeat.    ---   Going to school was definitely out of the question. You weren't planning on attending to such an institution knowing the high possibility of getting bullied. Not to mention, Kris wasn't going to be attending school either which made your decision of not attending that much easier.    Your father had no problem with that. He had something up his sleeve for you anyways. School would've just dragged you down. You were already smart enough; a lady didn't need that much education, but she did, however, need to learn how to strive her goals in the outside world. You were clueless as to what he had in store for you and so did Kris.    Kris had promised you that eventually, he would finally tell your father about your secret relationship. But he didn't. He never had time. The moment you and Kris were finally all settled in, thinking that you would be able to spend at least a few hours a day together, your father would throw files at him, and hand out secret missions for him to accomplish. Sometimes he went out with the team, but often he was sent out alone. You never knew though. Of course you didn't. You would've freaked.   While Kris was busy with his work, you were busy with yours. Your father had built a dance studio in the basement of the mansion. The whole floor was dedicated to your one hobby. He had built it especially for you, designing it very carefully, making sure it'll come up to everything you wanted. It was huge, and it looked more like a studio than anything. The moment you descended down the wooden staircase, you were greeted with mirrors lined up from one side of the wall to the opposite wall. The floor was made of rich oak and it was smooth and sleek so that your feet was able to glide gracefully against the wood. You were ecstatic and clung onto his neck with sheer joy the moment you saw it.   You really were a lucky girl.    Your father had hired you a dance teacher as well. Though it didn't seem like she was comfortable with the idea of training you. You took her cold, sharp words to heart most of the time. She was just so rude. However, you could relate to how she felt. You two, after all, were from two different ethnic backgrounds.   Eventually, your father began to bring other teenage girls down to the dance studio, claiming that these girls had to train with you. You were confused, but mostly annoyed. Why is he bringing these girls home? And why are they all white? You weren't racist, not one bit. But they were, and you could see it in the way they looked at you. They gave off an 'I am more superior' than you type of vibe, which turned you off a bit. You had no idea why your father did this to you, and persisted on asking him daily, which eventually got him slightly irritated.   "You trust me don't you?" He asked, holding his wine glass in his hand as he stared at you. You stood awkwardly in the middle of his mahogany office and ran a hand through your hair. "I do. But I can't trust these girls. They-"   "Then seal your lips and go back down and practice." Your father said sternly.    You felt yourself frown, slightly hurt. His attitude had changed immensely after moving here. You saw him take out a blue work folder, and you sighed. The conversation has ended.    At the time you were much too young and naiive to let it occur to you what your father was doing and how selfish he was being.    ---   It was frustrating.    What was the point in dancing when your own teacher expressed her distaste towards yo