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Jinyoung’s P.O.V.

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I felt the buzz in my pocket for the sixth time during my walk.

I guess ignoring them isn’t going to work no matter how many miles away they are.

“Yoboseyo?”

“I’m busy. What do you want?”

“Really, Jinyoung, why do you insist on using English when you know your father and I aren’t as advanced as you?”

“You’re the ones who sent me to America. Remember?”

“Yes, now please don’t make us regret it. Are you prepared for the upcoming competition?”

“I said, ‘I’ll win.’ I’ve been practicing every night for hours. What more do you want from me?”

“Well, you’re father and I have heard some things. You know the Dean is a great fan of your father’s art. He keeps in touch. You haven’t been drinking a great deal have you? Maybe we should send Irene. She’s been dying to see y-”

“No, don’t send her here! I don’t need a babysitter. I’m not Jay… Maybe you’d prefer it if I were.”

I felt so many emotions boiling up inside threatening to flow over like tea in a pot. Usually, this was a feeling that haunted me, that called to my hands and poured the alcohol down my throat, but I had too much practicing to do tonight, which is unfortunately much easier when sober. Instead, the emotions turned to anger, and I felt myself almost loose the device into the nearby shrubs.

I heard a slight noise shudder from the direction of the house.

That girl again.

Rolling my eyes, I decided to brush it off.

I really thought she would just be a one night stand for one of them… Doesn’t matter. I need to practice. Maybe if I can work the song into another key-