-Angie’s POV-

I walked to the bench with its paint flaking off little by little. My heart lifted and sank as I realized this is where Yesung had told me I was like a flower, and put a hand around my shoulder.

I sat there, ing my lower lip out a little. Did I want to be a flower? Did he only think of me as a flower?

I shook my head. Maybe the next time I asked, the next time I saw him…

I opened up the journal.

Dear Journal,

Do you feel different? We’re in Seoul now!

The city excites a country boy like me. It’s rapid, energetic pace sweeps me off my feet, which is why I haven’t written in a few days.

Anyhow, shall I catch up you up? I have been grouped up with 12 other boys around the same age. Out of all of them, I am the fifth oldest. Not too young, not too old. Well, I hope at least not too old. Luckily being an older brother helps a bit.

Some of them have movements that make dancing seems so flawless, and all of them are younger than me. Makes me feel like I’m past my days sometimes. Then there are others with voices so pure, I wonder how I had ever matched up. Perhaps it’s because most of them are tenors, and I’m baritone. Some of them don’t have much talent, but have the looks. I’ve already seen girls look at them and giggle when we walk down the street.

We come from different places too. Some of them actually live in Seoul, some of them come from different provinces of Korea. Han Geng comes from China, as his name suggests. Heechul is the only other guy from America, like me.

Well, my parents are calling me to go to bed. Not that I mind, since jet lag always makes me this sleepy.

Yours truly,

Yesung

He has younger siblings?? And what was this “group” he was talking about? I turned to the next page.

Dear Journal,

Our group has a name now-Super Junior! Catchy huh?

Heechul has been introducing me to Korean honorifics. Our group has become close enough where we just call each other “hyung” if the person we’re talking to or referring to is older. It’s weird, since I’m only used to my younger brother calling me hyung. Now I have 8 other people calling me that.

People have complimented me on my voice, but I still feel I lack something. Every day I must practice singing so I can catch up with the others. And there’s dancing. I feel gawky as a giraffe as I try to learn dancing.

Apparently if we go professional, we get stylists to choose our clothes and such when we perform, but we can make our own decisions on little things and what we wear outside of performances. Sometimes I want to be the stylist, and sometimes I want to be the singer. I guess the singer has more options, but still…

Oh, did I mention Heechul is going to the same school? I’m surprised the American ones would happen to go…Well you know what I mean. I’m always surprised by concidences. It’s a small world.

Anyway, I leave in a week to go back to the States. Which means I have to go to sleep now so I can do my best while I’m here!

Yours truly,

Yesung.

Huh. So that’s how he knows Heechul. I was wondering how they met…Heechul seemed to be a rascal while Yesung so calm…

I closed the book and felt the breeze ruffle my hair. Yesung was honest on pages…Would I be able to be honest like that anywhere?

*

Sorry, the story is going to be a bit slow for now, but I promise it'll speed up in...2 chapters or so, k?