Stepping into the airport, I could feel stares boring into my head as many people began to recognize me. What do you expect, when your face was plastered all over the television and newspapers by the media for your singing and dancing achievements? Yes, I won So You Think You Can Dance. Yes, I won American Idol. NOW BACK OFF. GEEZZ.

People began mobbing me and my mother, asking for my autograph. The media was also there; reporters wanting to know why I was leaving the country. HOW DO THEY KNOW THAT. AND WHY ARE THEY HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE. Keeping my head down, my mother and I hurried to the barriers, flashing my passport and flight ticket, with the officers giving me symathetic looks. The officers gave the okay with an imperceptible sign which lifted the barriers which I passed through, separating me from my mother and all those crazed fans and media reporters. My mom's not going with me... DUH. We bade a hurried goodbye, which consisted of me yelling, "MOM. BE CAREFUL. I LOVE YOU." and my mom yelling back, "I KNOW. YOU TOO. I LOVE YOU TOO." on account of those crazy people yelling their heads off at not being able to get my autograph or something. Oh, and I hugged mom with the hard barrier in between us. Not very comfortable, let me warn you. x]

As I ran off with my luggage, I boarded the plane, nodding my head politely at the greeting woman, whose eyes widened at recognizing who I was.

"H-h-ello Hai-lee." She stuttered.

I nodded my head [again!] at her words, not bothering to reply.

I found my seat, Seat #128, hoping that the person I was sitting next to would not be a gross guy trying to hit on me.

But no such luck.

My seatmate turned out to be a fifty-five year old engineer, who was five feet four inches and weighed one-hundred and forty-five pounds, and was going to Seoul because of business. How do I know that? Because he told me all of that. -.-"

He then asked me to introduce myself. o.o I ignored him. I mean, excuse me? I do not talk to obese men I do not know, sorry. I put my carry on in the compartment, then squeezed myself into the seat next to his, concious that my was directly in front of his face as I tried to get to my window seat. AISH. I DON'T LIKE S. God.

Good thing the annoying procedure of the flight attendant's video thingy was starting, so he shut up and started ogling at the pretty lady on the video.

SIGHH. At least I was dressed in my favorite purple cropped shirt and black So You Think You Can Dance sweats, and had the window seat, or else I wouldn't know how I would even survive this freaking long flight to Seoul.

IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT RYEOWOOK. =.="

I snuggled even deeper into my seat and played the playlist on my ipod, consisting of mostly kpop songs by Super Junior, Shinee, and other bands. Girl bands too!

Soon enough, I fell asleep, hearing nothing but the sweet vocals of my one and only brother, Kim Ryeowook.