Choi Minho had been her best friend for as long as she could remember. He was the overprotective brother, always taking care of her, making sure that she was happy, that a smile was present on her face. To him, her feelings had always mattered more than his own. He trusted her, loved her and wanted her to be happy more than he wanted that for himself.

She was sixteen when it happened and he was three years older. That night, he had bought his first car with his own money. She could still remember the look on his face, pushing the gas pedal to the floor. But the cold December night, the snowflakes falling from the sky and the layer of ice from the highway, combined with the high speed did nothing good to them. The last thing she remembered was telling him to watch out, together with a bright light coming from the side of the car.

He died that night, and it had all been her fault. If she hadn't asked him to take her for a ride, if she hadn't told him to go faster, if she hadn't been so stupid, he would probably still be with her, and none of this would have happened. The fact that she had survived the accident and he didn’t was something she would never be able to forget, to push to the back of her mind.

A while later she found herself in front of her parents' house, patiently waiting for somebody to answer the door. Initially, she wanted to go home because she knew her parents wouldn't appreciate her dropping by, but something just drew her here. She was snapped out of her thoughts as the door finally opened, revealing one of the maids that worked there. "Jinri! What brings you here?" She asked as she stepped aside, letting the girl enter.

"I guess I just wanted to visit." Jinri smiled back and shrugged, not so sure herself about her reasons for being there.

"Oh, do you want me to tell your parents you're here?" The maid asked.

"No, it's okay. I'll just look around." She fumbled with her words, trying not to make her presence seem suspicious. Thankfully, the girl just nodded and, after flashing another quick smile, excused herself and skipped out of the room.

Sighing quietly, she began climbing the stairs. It wasn't long until she had finally reached Minho’s room. With a sad smile, she turned the doorknob and pushed the door open, not even bothering to close it behind her. Inside, everything was the same as he had left it. Her parents had refused to let anybody change anything, though they did allow the maids to clean up from time to time.

She frowned slightly as a certain book stirred something inside her head; she stood on her tiptoes and extended her hand as far as she could, in an effort to reach behind it. A small, slightly dusty, white box. Upon opening it, she was immediately taken aback by its contents. Tickets to the concert they wanted to go together, the silver chain she gave him for his seventeenth birthday.

"Jinri." She gasped and quickly turned around. His presence should have relaxed her but her relationship with her father had never been very comforting. "What are you doing here? You know I don't like people entering this room." His words were surprising, shocking even, and they hurt more than they probably should.

"I'm his sister." She whispered disbelievingly, not able to grasp the concept of not being allowed in this room.

Mr. Choi only nodded, before straightening his position from where he had been leaning against the doorframe and stepping inside the room. "And I'm his father." He replied simply. "Do you want to name any other family members?"

"Sometimes I wonder why you and mom even wanted me. It's obvious you were more than content with Minho oppa. He was probably the only one who you used to talk with." She couldn't help but wonder what she did wrong to deserve this.

"I don't understand why you're saying all this now. You have no reason whatsoever to complain of anything. I've gave you everything. Both to you and to your brother." Mr. Choi didn't seem at all affected by her words; everything she had said was true and he couldn't argue, or he just found her opinion not important at all and didn't have a reason to argue.

"Is that what makes you a good parent? Do you really think that material stuff is all that matters?" She asked incredulously.

"I don't think anything. All I know is I had gave you everything that could have made you happy. If that didn't happen, then I'm sorry. There’s nothing else I could have done." The way he was thinking, it all seemed so easy. And it frustrated her; for the first time ever, she felt anger towards her father. Along with that, she felt that she was finally brave enough to tell him everything she wanted to.

"Happy? A kid needs love to be happy. I need