[ Somi's POV ]

January 9th, 2017. 12:35 am.

Today marks the day of my departure from home, and down my new path towards the Seoul Academy of Performing Arts. Yes, I, Jung Somi, have been accepted to become a honorary student of the school I have dreamt of for so many years, the school that nobody thought I could ever step foot inside-- including myself.

Today marks the last day of countless hours curled in a useless ball on the living room couch, or running from here to there while balancing four plates towered full of fried chicken in my hands. Those days are finished. I am a new woman now. I’m no longer a dead-beat waitress at her family’s restaurant; I am now a qualified actress—well, in the progress of becoming one at least.

A loud banging at my bedroom door startles me from my actions of finishing taping the last box filled with my belongings. “Somi, we need to leave in about ten minutes to avoid traffic.” My brother’s voice drifts through the thick wood.

“I’ll be right there.” I respond over my shoulder. I stand from my crouching position on the floor and lift the box into my arms and give my half-empty bedroom one last look. I decided to leave some of my belongings behind, along with my mattress and desk, as the academy will be supplying me with new ones of each, because my parents are (forcing) inviting me to return home every weekend so that I won’t grow too distant from them, though having clingy and slightly nosy parents that I do, it’s a rather difficult offence to commit.

With a soft smile, I bid my room a silent goodbye before pushing open my bedroom door with my hip. I descend the spiral staircase leading to our living room. When I step off of the last metal stair, I turn around and find myself facing my family of four, all of their faces showcasing downcast expressions, hidden behind veils I would assume were supposed to resemble excited emotions. I give them a sad half-smile and wobble over to meet them, as the box I am carrying is beginning to weigh down on my forearms.

My mom looks like she’s forcing back tears, while my dad stands with his arms crossed, and Yuri has her hands in her pockets with a small smile painted across her face. Heechul is standing near the door, and at the sight of my arrival, he comes over and takes the box from my arms. “I’ll meet you at the car.” He says and I nod.

The moment my arms are free, my mom comes rushing over and pulls me into a hug. I let out a surprised laugh and wrap my arms around her, and as I’m now a few inches taller than her, I lean down and rest my chin on her shoulder. I inhale her scent-- lavender fabric softener combined with the sweet tint of vanilla from her perfume, and I feel a pang of sadness that I won’t get to hug her every morning anymore. She hugs me tighter and I can hear her trying to muffle her crying.

“Mom,” I say in a strained voice, already feeling tears prickle at the backs of my eyes. “You’re going to make me cry.”

“I’m going to miss you.” She says in between sniffles and I pat her shoulders.

“I’ll miss you too,” I say. “but I promise I’ll call everyday and I’ll be home every weekend.”

She nods and I pull out of the hug with another smile, and turn towards my dad. My dad has never been the kind of person to showcase his emotions, especially the sad kind, so he looks at me with a stone-cold expression, but I know he’s truly saddened just by the glint of tears in his eyes.

I shuffle over to him and despite a grunt of disapproval, I wrap my arms around his stomach and hug him tightly. “I’ll miss you.” I say, my words muffled by the fabric of his button-up flannel. He grunts again and lifts his hands to pat my back. “Me too.” He says quietly enough so that only I can hear, and the sincerity in his hushed tone makes me feel warm inside and I smile.

Someone loudly clearing their throat causes me to pull away, and I look to my right and see Yuri looking around the room innocently as she waits for her turn. I smile and quickly walk over and hug her with all of my strength. She laughs at the intensity but doesn’t seem to mind, as she proceeds to hug me using just as much pressure. Despite her being my brother’s wife, I have always had a relationship with Yuri of which resembles that of two sisters. We tease each other constantly, and we would often stay up late into the night watching television and sharing a tub of chocolate chip ice cream. She’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a real sister, and I think I’ll probably miss her the most, because she never fails to be by my side no matter the circumstances, and I’ll always be thankful to her for that.

“Don’t be a stranger, kiddo.” She advises as she rocks me from side to side, her arms constricting my shoulders.

“I won’t.” I say. “I promise I’ll come visit as often as I can.”

“You’d better.” She retorts with a playful warning. “Don’t you dare leave me with all of your work around here, or I’ll kick your .”

I laugh even though I can feel the sting of tears in my eyes beginning to resurface. I never realized how much I’ll miss my family, my loud, obnoxious, clingy, rude, and crass family, which I would never in a million years even begin to imagine of abandoning or replacing. The loud honk of the car horn sounding from downstairs signals to us all that it’s time for my departure. I pull away from Yuri, even though she tried to keep me locked in her embrace as best she could.

Yuri brushes her fingers across my forehead to brush my bangs away from my eyes, because she knows they always bother me, and offers me one last smile. “Good luck, kiddo. You’ll do great.”

God, I hope she’s right.

~

The thirty-five minute drive to the university goes by rather quickly, as Heechul and I drive along with the radio turned to full volume, singing our hearts out to the point that it becomes hard to breathe. We usually do this, get lost in the lyrics of our favorite songs, but the atmosphere today feels different. The two of us would drive to the market to pick up supplies for the restaurant every Monday and Friday, and we would always listen to music a bicker over who has a better singing voice – Heechul obviously takes the prize, but I’ll never admit it to his face— and playing endless rounds of rock-paper-scissors in a competition to decide who will load the heaviest boxes in the truck.

Heechul and I have always had a healthy relationship, despite our constant teasing and harmless smacks and punches. During my “glory” years of horrific puberty, he would always try and guide me through my struggles, as he is twelve years older than me and has experienced enough to offer me wise words of advice. He has a very sarcastic and occasionally rude sense of humor, which he is unafraid to belt out at any given moment, and he never loses an opportunity to playfully scrutinize his family members—me specifically— but I can’t complain because that, combined with chocolate and televised melodramas, were the only things that got me through high school.

Our time spent in the car fades by quickly, and before I know it, Heechul is turning right off of the bumbling road we had been travelling on since leaving home, and begins weaving the car up the slightly sloped street lined by posh apartment complexes. He makes another narrow turn once we pass a surprisingly large convenience store, and when I look over at the driver’s side, I notice my brother’s mouth slightly agape at the sight of the polished neighborhood. “Holy , Somi.” He mumbles in awe.

I find myself smiling at my brother’s fascination, and I must say, I’m rather nervous to be moving to a place such as th