Just a fair warning, there's going to be some cussing in this chapter.

Monday, June 11^th. 2:08 pm.

I was stretched out on the couch in my living room, watching a Japanese drama called Nobuta wo Produce. I was feeling pretty awesome, because school had ended on Friday. I flipped over my pillow. If I thought summers in Baltimore were hot, summer in Korea might be the death of me. This is coming from the girl who can’t survive in a room with a temperature under 80 degrees. It was freaking hot, and it wasn’t doing much for Umma’s mood. She was sitting at the table, going over the scripts for her drama. She had the biggest frown and deep lines on her forehead as her lips moved around the words on the page. Every time something exciting happened on screen, her head popped up with an irritated expression on her face. Finally, when Nobuta screamed, she snapped.

“Heechan! Go up to your room! I’m trying to concentrate!” she glared at me, turning up the desktop fan that was pointed at her face.

“Neh, Umma.”  I said, fighting to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. I had learned very quickly in this house to it up and keep a respectful tone. I think my acting is now good enough to win MYSELF a part in a drama. Yes, that was an exaggeration, but still.

On my way up the stairs, my phone rang.. I had changed the ringtone after rewatching Boys Over Flowers. It was now Yoon JiHoo’s ringtone, which sounded like pretty bells or something, instead of the piano piece I had before. I hummed along for a bit while I pulled my phone out of my pocket.

~Choi Sang Hyo~

I was surprised enough to stop before I laughed and went into my room, closing the door.

“Hey! What’s up? How come you haven’t been replying to my letters, huh? Turns out you’re alive, I guess.” I blurted in rapid English.

“Yeobsaeyo,” she said stiffly.

“Yeobsae…” I recovered quickly. “What’s up?” I repeated in Korean this time.

“Mianhe, Heechan. I know I havn’t been responding to your mail, but I have a good reason. I’m… actually, I’m in Korea right now.”

“Um…. Why?”

“I got an offer about three weeks after your left. I auditioned for TS, and I got in.”

I had known that it was Sanghyo’s dream to become a K-pop idol, but even if this sounds terrible or unsupportive (or just realistic) I never expected her to ACTUALLY get in. I mean, this isn’t a drama or a fanfiction. I guess these types of things really do happen in real life…

“Wow, that’s great, Choichoi. Why didn’t you tell me? Call me or something? It’s been almost 6 months.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I don’t really have much of an excuse.”

“Okay. And, it’s totally awesome that you’re here. Maybe we could meet up sometime, I know that TS is around here.”

“I don’t think so. I’m just really busy, you know.”

I could tell. She didn’t sound like her normal, bubbly, hyper, and weird self at all. Her voice sounded heavy and tired, and just listening to her I could tell she’d been through a lot to make her dream a reality. I hoped she would get the gratification she deserved for it.

“You know, Umma’s been really cranky lately, cause of the heat.” I said, pretty much just to say something. I had always been the quieter one, not that I myself was particularly quiet, but because normally Sanghyo wouldn’t be able to stop talking. Ever.

“Yeah,” she responded. “But you gotta cut her some slack. With your Appa sick, and her job, she—“

“My Appa sick?” I interrupted.

No answer.

“Choi Sanghyo! What do you mean? Is Appa really sick? How come I don’t know about this?”

“Heechan, I’m sorry, I wasn’t supposed to say anything-“

“DO YOU THINK I CARE? WHAT HAPPENED TO APPA?!” I yelled into the phone and started pacing my room.

“I’m sorry! Heechan, he has brain cancer, but he doesn’t have enough money.” She said really fast.

“Bouyo*…” I sat back down on my bed. “Why doesn’t Umma send money??”

“You know your Umma, Heechan. She doesn’t consider him to have anything to do with her anymore.”

“How come you know more about my life than I do?” I asked, my voice getting stronger again.

“I don’t know!” she said, her own voice getting higher.

“I haven’t talked to you in four months, and all of a sudden I find out that you’re a superstar down the street and my Appa is dying?! WHAT THE HELL?!”

“Look, I’m sorry!! I’m not a superstar, at least not yet. I don’t even debut for another two weeks.”

“Do you think that really matters right now? Have you been talking to my Umma? How do you even know my Umma?”

“….I did talk to her a few times…”

“SO, YOU’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT ME WITH MY MOTHER BEHIND MY BACK? FOR HOW LONG??”

“LOOK, IT’S NOT LIKE THAT!!” she yelled back.

“ANSWER! HOW LONG?”

“Five months.”

“FIVE MONTHS?!” then I thought about it.

“How long has Appa been sick? About four months, right? Since you called me?”

“Yeah…BUT IT ISN’T MY FAULT! I COULDN’T TELL YOU! I FEEL….I DON’T KNOW HOW TO DEAL WITH THIS!!!”

“DO YOU THINK I CARE ABOUT YOUR STUPID FEELINGS AND COMPLICATED RIGHT NOW? AISH, JINJJA!!” I hit the cup on my bedstand. Luckily it was plastic, so it didn’t break, but water was spilled all over my floor.

“Look, Heechan-“

I laughed cruelly. “What? Have you got more? I know, how about my house got blown up? Maybe my grandma moved to Mexico? Ooh, how about my long lost twin got run over by a car—“

“Shut up!!” she sounded like she was crying. “I thought I was supposed to be the dramatic one? The one with all the emotions??”

“You are.” I said unfeelingly and hung up. Then I threw my phone at the wall. The back cover popped off and the 20 dollar bill fell out that I always kept in there for emergencies. It was American money, I hadn’t bothered to change it. I glared at the offending navy blue walls and fluffy white bed. Why did all of this happen? Seriously! Five minutes ago, my life was perfect. No, way more than perfect. I guess this is going to be one of THOSE types of fanfics.

I picked up the picture of me and Sanghyo that I kept on my bedside table and threw it on the ground, hard. Then I stepped on it and heard it crunch under my bare foot, not caring about the glass that now pierced my skin. I threw myself onto my bed and buried my face in the pillow. After a minute of just lying there, I punched the bed next to me and rolled over onto my back. I guess I wasn’t going to cry. That’s okay. I wasn’t expecting to.

I carefully took care of the glass in my foot and on the floor, just throwing out the picture with the frame. If this was a , this is where I would go somebody. Hard. But it’s not, so I decided to go to Park Chaera’s house. I picked my phone and all of it’s pieces off the ground on the far side of the room and put it back together, dialing Chaera’s number.

“Yeobsaeyo? It’s Heechan. Are you busy?”

“Nope, not really. What’s up? You sound upset.”

I leveled my voice. “If you’re not busy, can I come over?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Awesome. I’ll be there in 10.”

I spent the rest of the day and most of the night at Chaera’s house, watching anime and dramas and trying to forget about everything.

Needless to say, I failed.

~~~

* Yeah, that's supposed to be the romanization of 'what'. I disagree with mueos or mwoyah or whatever you guise use, So.... hehe.

Welp, it got exciting. (It did??) Haha. Please bear with me, this is my first fanfiction really and I'm trying to get the hang of it. I really enjoy comments, because I honestly could use any and all helpful critisism. What do you think?? *>_<*