"Where have you been?" My mother asks when I enter the room. She doesn't care, she's just curious.

"I was with Taekyung," I say rather emotionless. She frowns. I don't know why, but it somehow seems to irritate her that me and my brother get along so well.

"Well, you better get ready. You will need a lot of practice if you want to be a star next to him."

"What is this, a competition? All I want, is make music with Oppa. With or without your approval of my abilities." She sighs while I walk to my room. It makes me angry to be around her. And doubtful. What is so terrible about me that makes her embarrassed of me? Why won't she tell anyone she is a mother? Why doesn't she want me? I packed my bag and a fresh bottle of water from the mini-bar, then I walked back to the lobby of the hotel, where me and my mother would be meeting a vocal coach who was hired by the ANJELL management. He would 'teach me how I could make my voice fit Taekyung's' as if I didn't know how to fit my own brother. 

When I arrived in the lobby, I noticed someone else there. Reporter Kim, someone I had hated even more then Yoo He Yi. I smile at him, because I am suppose to. He flashes a picture, then hastily asks me about the new rumour he heard.

"Hyorinssi, is it true you are going to remake one of Mo Hwa Ran's songs with your brother." I pretended to be shy, like my mother wanted me to around reporters when they 'surprised' me.

"Reporter Kim, I don't know how you found out about it," I say softly.

"So it is true?" The smile on his face was sincere. This man would live and die for his job, so juicy news was the best he could get.

"You will have to wait until the press conference for details," I whisper at him as if we share a huge secret. He nods, scribbles down in his notebook and flashes another picture.

"Maybe one together with your teacher?" My mother smiles, we quickly pose for the last picture and then we leave with the coach, who had been waiting patiently this whole time.

"I have heard a lot about you, and I really like your work," he says to me when we're in the car, "Taekyung is very lucky to have a talented sister like you." I smile brightly at him. It's always nice when people compliment you for real, and not because there's cameras or other people around.

"Thank you, I will work hard to get even better, please to care of me."

I don't have to work all that hard during practice, the vocal coach seems to be very pleased by my talent, and after an hour and a half, he says goodbye. As soon as my mother and I sit in the car, she starts her ing.

"You were hoarse. It sounded terrible."

"I think it was okay."

"You shouldn't think. I'll think for you."

"Well, hurray," I mumble.

"And you should be more loveable around reporters. I'm surprised reporter Kim didn't notice you being fake."

"I learned from the best," I say. But deep down, it hurts. I don't want her to be like this. I want her to tell me I'm doing a good job. That I will be succesful. That she is proud of me, maybe.