My big brother is calling me again. Third time today. I really should answer... What if something's wrong? You continue your inner debate, and finally answer the phone just before the final ring.

"Yes, big brother?" I don't call him Oppa. Never have, and most likely never will. Daddy had an affair with an American woman, my mom. Daddy was caught, his wife left him, yada yada yada, you know the deal. But me and him have maintained a close relationship, and he's made sure I get along well with all my half siblings.

"YAH! Why didn't you answer?!" He shouted so loud I had to hold the phone arms length away from my ear. I can hear him perfectly, even from that distance. "I've been calling you all day!" I bring the phone back to my ear so I can talk to him.

"Yes, you have." I say calmly. "I've been ignoring you all day. You have horrible timing, you know? First at breakfast, then in the middle of class, and now, when I'm supposed to be doing homework!"

"Yeah, but you're not actually doing your homework, are you?" He asks at a normal volume. "Why were you ignoring me?"

"First time, I was to tired and lazy to actually pick up the phone. Second time, my phone was taken away. And now, my worrying was going to drive me nuts if I didn't answer."

"You were worried?" He asks, shocked. I roll my eyes.

"Why are you calling?" I say, impatient to get back to patrolling Facebook and correcting peoples grammer. I love doing that....

"You're mother called me...." He starts, suddenly serious. I immedietly get that anxious feeling in my chest.

"And....?" I ask warily. Mom doesn't normally talk to Daddy, or his other kids, except occasionally on holidays.

"She and Dad have already decided this... And..." He continues at a snails pace.

"Dong Youngbae, what the hell is going on?!" I ask/shout sternly, using his real name. I had wondered why Mom was being extra nice recently....

"MomandDadhavedecidedthatyou'regoingtocomelivewithmeandtherestofBigbang!" Youngbae says really fast, all the words mushed together.

"Ok, three things: One, what the ?! Two, why in Gods name am I going to live with you?! And three, who the hell thought it was a good idea?!" I shout at my phone, getting gradually louder as I continue. "And why wasn't I told of this sooner? Just who's idea was this, cause they had better have a damn good reason!" I can feel the anger rising up from my stomach, and I can see red at the edges of my vision. My moves become quick and agitated as I walk around my room, occasionally knocking some crap off of my shelves.

There's a sound of a button being pressed, and then Youngbae's voice, "Emma Rose, you're on speaker. Your mom and dad are here with us at the airport."

"Emma, sweetie, your anger is getting out of control. I don't know how I'm supposed to handle it. I have you on medications for it, but they dont seem to be working." Mom says softly, trying not to set me off even more.

"Oh, so you're dumping me on my brother, and four strangers?! That's your solution? Really?!" I growl, banging my fist on my wall, cracking the plaster. There's a satisfying bump. "You know how I am with strangers, especially boys!"

"There," My father says, speaking for the first time, "That right there is why you're going to live with Youngbae and his friends. You use threats of tantrums to get what you want from your mother. Youngbae won't let you get away with that. Neither will his friends. You're not going to be able to bully any of them into giving you what you want. Your tantrums and outbursts need to stop, you need to learn how to control yourself!"

"Then Youngbae and his friends are in for a rough time." I say simply before hanging up. I throw my phone across the room, and it hits the wall. I hear a crack. Good. I feel like hitting things. I run outta the house, like I'm drunk. I can't seem to walk straight, I keep banging into walls, and I tripped and fell down the stairs. I don't feel any pain though. I make it out of the house, and stumble into the woods surrounding my house.

I break into a run. I just run, not seeing where I'm going, so I trip over roots and things of the like. I run without thinking. I know the way like the back of my hand. Finally, I reach the back door of a small gym. I walk right in, completely ignoring the men who I barge through on my way to the punching bags. I slide on the gloves, and start hitting, tears streaming down my face all the while. I mutter curses under my breath.

Eventually, the red starts to fade, and the angry rush is replaced with an overwhelming sense of exhaustion. I take off the gloves, and wipe the sweat off my face. I walk slowly back out of the gym, and walk back through the woods. I stop at the edge of the woods near my house. The airport is about three hours from here. I'm not sure how long I was at the gym. Definatly not three hours, but I don't know how much time I have left before they get home. I don't wanna take a shower and have them come home while I'm in it.

I have an inner debate for a few minutes, before walking up to the house. I walk in throught the back door. I find my phone on the floor where it landed. The screen is cracked, like I knew it would be. I check to see if it still works. Yup. Thank the Lord. I check the time, and then my call history. That call with Youngbae ended at three thirty seven. It was just past five, so I have about an hour and a half left before they made it home.

There are three more calls from Youngbae's number, two from a strangers, an' one from my mom. I think of texting the strangers number, but, you know, stranger danger. But the stranger calls me. I let it go to voicemail.

"Hello? Emma? Listen, we're on our way home. We'll be there in about an hour and a half, ok?" Youngbae's voice says. I fiure this is one of his friends numbers. Why he thought I would respond to a stranger calling me is beyond me. "Listen, I know your mad, but this is for the best, I swear!" I press accept.

"Do you have any idea how stupid you sound?" I ask, sitting down on my bed.

"Emma, please-" Youngbae starts again.

I interrupt him, "This is for the best? Seriously? NO, this is NOT 'for the best'!"

"They're not bad guys, I swear! This only has to be as painful as you make it!"

"One, bull. Two, name one guy who's not a 'bad guy'!"

"Me! And Dad!" Youngbae exclaims. I can hear a whispered conversation break out in the background.

"Yeah, I thought so to.... Guess I was wrong...." I sigh, my finger traveling to the 'end call' button.

"Wait! Don't hang up! Just..." Youngbae exclaims. I'm 99% sure that he's psychic.

"Just what?" I ask tiredly. I hear Youngbae sigh in frustration.

"Just give this a chance. Please?" He asks. I blink, caught off guard by the vulnerability in his voice. But then I steel myself again.

"Why?" I ask simply, with a shrug. I hear a muffled bump, and then, my mothers voice.

"Sweetie, how about this: If in three months, this isn't working out, we'll try something new. That sound good?"

"But we can't garentee that you'll find the new thing better!" My father adds.

"Two months. Then, yeah, sure, let's try it." I say, making my voice sound like I'm arguing for the sake of being oppositional. More muffling.

"Three months! That's all we ask of you, three months!" My father hisses, loosing his patience. I consider just hanging up now.

"You sound like you're not ready to talk about this. I think I'm going to hang up now. We'll talk when your ready. When you get home." I say, mocking the words my parents have oh so often said to me. Then I hang up. I head up to my bathroom. I'm gonna need a long shower....