I remember the last time I saw my parents. It was a Saturday morning. The air smelled like clean washing and freshly cut grass. My brother was sat at the kitchen table doing his homework, while my parents gathered my things for me outside the front door. I only had a small suitcase, a pillow, and a notebook. I swallowed the lump in my throat, and walked towards the door. My feet felt like lead, and that short trip felt like it took about fifteen years. I barely had time to hug my family goodbye, the bus was already here. An army official got out of the bus and grabbed my suitcase, throwing it into the back. I was forced onto the bus, and didn’t even have time to take one last look at my family. A tear rolled down my cheek as I went into the unknown, to the B.A.P project.

I wiped the tears off my face and looked around properly for the first time. The bus had black tinted windows, and a very simplistic décor. The seats were a dark red and everything else was white. I looked at the people: there were several government officials, all fully armed and wearing their official uniforms. Nobody seemed too bothered by the guns, as most people were either talking excitedly or fast asleep. The bus stopped abruptly, and I almost smacked my head off the seat in front. A boy got on, and sat down next to me. He was quite short, but looked athletic. He spent some time trying to put his luggage on the luggage racks above our heads, but when he realised it didn’t fit he gave up and put it on the seat in front. I could feel his eyes boring into me, and it made me uncomfortable. “What’s your name?” he asked, a hint of fear in his voice. “Youngjae,” I answered coolly, and he just nodded. After a while he said, “my name’s Jongup.” He tried to shake my hand, but I just glared at him. I wasn’t usually this cold, but I was not in the mood for talking. He stopped trying to talk to me then, and took out a book and started doodling. The words started pouring out before I could stop myself. “What kind of Matonian is that! Why is his head so big? Why is one eye bigger than the other? Was he born with a birth defect or something?” He looked up in surprise. “My mum told me to never make fun of anyone just because they look different.” I was really losing my patience with this kid. “That’s not a person! That’s a potato with eyes!” Jongup just shrugged, and went back to his drawing. I was in a really bad mood. I continued to watch him do these strange abstract drawings out of the corner of my eye, occasionally complaining about how inaccurate it was. Jongup didn’t seem to mind though, and went on doodling. The bus stopped again, and I yet again nearly smacked my head off one of the seats. This time two people got on. One looked really fierce, and everyone shrank back as he walked past. He was followed by a smaller boy, who only looked about eight years old. They sat down in front of us, and I swallowed another lump in my throat. Jongup didn’t seem to care that this guy looked like he was ready to kill everyone on this bus, and introduced himself to them in the same way he had to me. The scary boy’s name was Yongguk, and the small boy’s name was Junhong. Jongup and the two boys were having a full scale conversation, and I tried not to be jealous, seeing as I had little to no social skills. I had a short temper, and easily got frustrated. “Who’s brooding bowl cut over there?” Yongguk asked, referring to me. “He’s Sungjae,” Jongup replied. I could have smacked him in the head. “It’s YOUNGjae, not SUNGjae, you ,” I replied angrily. Junhong looked at Yongguk in surprise, and Yongguk grabbed me by the collar. “Listen, I don’t know who you think you are, but you have no right to curse in front of kids.” I thought he was going to punch me, but he let me go. I collapsed into my seat, and was glad that Junhong was there, otherwise he probably would have hit me. It turned out they were brothers, and they both quickly bonded with Jongup. I stared out of the window, half listening to their conversations, and smacked my head off the window when we halted all of a sudden. I could feel blood trickling down my nose, and Jongup handed me a crumpled up tissue. “Are you okay?” someone asked. I looked up, and saw the boy who had presumably just got on the bus. He looked genuinely concerned. “He hit his head off the window,”Jongup replied, which was pretty obvious considering there was a giant crack in the window. The boy apologised, even though it wasn’t his fault, and sat down behind me and Jongup. I was starting to feel a little crowded, and couldn’t wait to get off the bus, even though I was petrified of TS Academy. I had a friend who went there about two years ago. He had been declared a child genius, and spent a summer at TS. He’d always been a fun, outgoing person, but when he came back it was like he had no personality. He talked differently too, and couldn’t remember who I was. It turned out that he was used as a lab rat, and had had various experiments performed on him. Since then I’d always been scared of TS Academy. After a few hours the TS building came into view. It was an ugly concrete building, with a few windows, and it was surrounded by a barbed wire fence. I closed my eyes, and awaited my fate.

We were all brought to the canteen and were given some sort of grey gloop and water that tasted like chemicals. It was pretty disgusting, but we were all so hungry that most of us had seconds. After that we were all taken to our dorms. There were ten people in each room. I was sharing with Jongup, Junhong, Yongguk, and some other people I didn’t know. The rooms were decorated very similarly to the bus. Everything was white, except the bed sheets, which were dark red. There were five bunk beds. I threw my stuff on to one of the bottom bunks, and started writing down the day’s events in the notebook I’d brought with me. I was interrupted by someone clearing his throat. “Is it okay if I take the top bunk?” I looked up, and saw a boy who looked about the same age as me, and I recognised him as the guy who’d asked me if I was okay on the bus. He had a friendly face, and was very handsome. I nodded. He nearly kicked me in the face as he tried to climb on to his bed. He kept sticking his head over the side of his bed to look at me.

“Is you name Sungjae?” I facepalmed. “It’s YOUNGjae.” He grinned. “Sorry. My name’s Daehyun.” I ignored him, and kept on writing. I wanted to record every single thing that happened, just in case someone wiped my memory. I finished writing, and put my book away. I started looking at the other people in the room. One had curly hair, and was called Harry. One was called Onew, and another guy was called Obama. There was also a guy called Rapmonster, and when we asked him what his real name was he got all mad and said that was his real name. Then there was Yongguk, who was helping Junhong put on his pyjamas, and then tucked him in to bed. I was slightly jealous, seeing as I would probably never be tucked into bed again. I couldn’t see Daehyun, because he was above me, but he seemed to be asleep, and his arm dangled over the side of his bed. I yawned, and realised how tired I was. I pulled the covers over my head, and went to sleep.