Jongin immediately understands when I tell him the news.

"Your Father comes first," He says firmly, "You have to honour his wishes,"

"Don't want to," I mutter sullenly. Jongin flicks my chin,

"Hey don't be like that; I don't want to make a bad impression on your Father before we've even met!"

"But I really want to see you perform," I wail, "Like I was really looking forward to it,"

"I'll get someone to film it, maybe Chanyeol's sister,"

"But it's not the same. I'm going to miss your first performance. I'm such a bad person," I sigh.

"Come on cheer up," Jongin pulls me into his arms for a hug and rests his chin on top of my head. "There'll be other times and it's not your fault. It's important to respect your Dad's wishes,"

"You're meant to want me to sneak out, not agree with my Dad," I mumble against his shirt.

"I am disappointed," Jongin says with a big sigh, "I was looking forward to showing you how hard we worked. But there's nothing we can do."

I pull back and look up at him,

"I'm still your biggest fan you know," I say softly, "Even if I can't make it to your performance I'll still be thinking of you the whole time, cheering you on,"

He smiles and leans his forehead against mine.

"Promise?" He whispers.

"I promise."

He continues looking me deep in the eyes, our foreheads still touching, until he finally leans back and places a soft kiss on my forehead.

"You better keep that promise forever. Even if something happens..."

"What could happen?" I flick his nose, "You're going to be stuck with me forever."

Jongin catches my hand and places my fingers to his lips,

"I hope so," He says seriously, his eyes so intense they seem to burn a path right through to my eyes. "I really hope so."

I arrive at my Fathers house at 1 o clock. Screw that 'arrive at midday' crap, he was already ruining my plans enough, I decided spending one more hour with Jongin wouldn't hurt anyone.

My father’s maids open the door and usher my inside,

"You're late," One says reproachfully, reaching for my coat.

"Oh really? How sad," I say mildly, stepping out of the way of her hands so I can take off my own coat.

"Your Father said he would like to see you before you get ready," A maid sniffs.

"Oh he actually wants to see me?" I say sarcastically, "How exciting."

"I wish she wouldn't act like that," A maid says to her companion, "It's awfully spoilt,"

The maids would never directly insult me, they know better then that. But they've developed an annoying trick in which they talk about me to their companions, right in front of my face.

"Who said we were talking about you?"They said when I first confronted them, "We never said your name."

It's so irritating because it's such a dumb low trick but it actually works. My Father refuses to fire them because it's not a direct insult.

"What kind of logic is that?" I screamed, "How are you a buisness man with such simple thinking? I really don't understand how anyone actually does any deals with you, no really how do you actually manage to close a deal? Does everyone have to say your name at the end of every sentence so that you know they're definitely talking to you? Is that how it is, is this the kind of brain I'm dealing with..."

That was the moment that Changmin bodily threw me over his shoulder and took me out of the room before I leapt over the desk and clawed my Father's eyes out. Or more likely before my Father slapt me.

We reach the door to my Fathers office. The house he lives in is very grand and lavish, filled with long hallways so he can do important long walks from room to room while his men shout figures and updates in his ears.

The maids leave me there and then disappear off. I lean against the wall, surveying the cleaners making everything shine and workers carrying things into the hall at the back of the house.

I sigh and look at my phone. There's no message from Jongin so I figure him and the boys must be practicing hard. I decide to thumb him a quick message.

{1:31pm} I'm so bored already man, I'd give anything to be hanging out with you guys. Make sure you all rest as well so you're in your best state to perform! Thinking of you, are you thinking of me too?

I put my phone back in my pocket just as the office door opens.

Changmin beckons me in with a tight smile. No doubt the poor guy is stressed with all these last minute preparations.

"Try and behave for me sweetie?" He whispers.

"I'll be an angel," I promise with a sweet smile.

This office is quite simple, made up of tones of browns, a large desk being the main feature.

My Father is standing in front of the mirror fixing his suit. When I enter the room I see his eyes swivel over to mine in the mirror.

My Father's face is full of edges and lines. He is a thin tall man of about 6ft 5 with long limbs always hidden under buisness suits. I've never seen him in casual clothes; I'm sure when he came out the womb he was in a mini armani suit. His face is gaunt; his cheekbones cut sharp shelves across his cheeks. His skin is tanned, more so then Jongin's, and he has his hair carefully gelled flat to his head with a side parting.

"Darling Father," I say brightly, "How are we on this fine afternoon,"

My father winces like my voice is an irksome fly bothering him.

"How are you?" He says stiffly, turning away from the mirror.

"I was fine until I heard about this little event,"

"Ah, I gather it was short notice," He says. His voice is deep and a little husky.

"Yes it was. An apology would be nice."

"An apology?" He his head to the side questioningly.

"Yes," I go over to his desk and cast an eye on some of the documents, "Contrary to your thinking, the world doesn't revolve around you. I had plans with people who are actually able to arrange things properly."

"They obviously weren't that important if you were able to change them," He says slowly.

"You're really selfish." I say distastefully. "I'm proud to say I haven't inherited that gene."

"I don't appreciate you talking to me this way," My father stares at me, his face expressionless.

"Well I don't paticularly care," I fold my arms and look at him.

He opens his mouth to say something else but there is a knock on the office door and his attention immediately switches to the door. I snort; he can't even hold a conversation with me for a full 5 minutes.

"He's here," Says a short man also dressed in a business suit, because dark suits are the only type of clothing you'll see in this place.

My Father fixes his suit for the last time and then strides to the door. Just before he leaves the room he pauses.

"Your Mother wouldn't like the way you speak to me." He says quietly.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Changmin's eyes widen and he tries to cast me a warning glance but it's hidden by the cloud of red rage covering my gaze.

"Yeah? Well she isn't here anymore is she?" I shout, "You made sure of that!"

"Ara," Changmin walks over and tries to take my arm but I wrench it away.

"I don't understand why you insist on blaming your Mother’s death on me..." My Father begins in a calm modulated voice that drives me up the wall.

"Wow you can't even inject a little emotion in to your voice can you? But then again I think it would shatter that emotionless buisness like facade you've built up, and then maybe everyone would really get a glimpse of you. I'm really bored of this bull." I push past him and leave the room, stalking off down the hallway. Changmin tries to hurry after me but I hear my Father quietly disobey it.

I run up the stairs and down the hall, nearly knocking over people who are carrying various items in to the hall.

I open the door to my room and see four or five maids standing beside my bed on which lies a turquoise dress.

"We're here to help you dress," One says stiffly.

I look around at all there faces and every single one of them looks like they'd rather be scrubbing the toilet then here in my presence.

"Get out," I say, holding open the door, "I've been dressing myself fine for years I'm sure I can do it now without you all."

They all shuffle out,

"She's so rude," I hear one whisper.

"We'll see how rude I can be when I stuff a feather duster up your damn ," I snarl before slamming the door.

I stand there breathing heavily and glaring at the wood for a moment, before sighing and going to sit down on my bed.

I can understand why the maids hate me. They think I'm throwing away this rich lifestyle I could be leading while I stay shut off in some small apartment, playing at being a normal teenager while they work their butts off to earn money.

Not that that makes me feel sorry for them. I don't see how mocking and hating me is going to make their lives any better. I don't want this kind of life, it may seem amazing that I can see an item of clothing and instantly own it. But is money still amazing when it's the reason for your Mother's death?

"At least try and look a little lively," Changmin nudges me. "Especially as he's thought up a little surprise for you."

"Oh the joy," I mutter, slumped in my chair, "Unless it's a time machine that can reverse the last few hours I'm not interested."

"Ara I know you and your Father may not see eye to eye most of the time. But you're doing yourself more bad then good by acting this way."

We're sitting on the balcony that lines the hall and faces a stage at the back of the hall that's been erected. I'm looking down at all the guests. There are quite a few more people then I was expecting, more then there were at dinner. Which was an extrememly boring affair may I add; my Father was in stream of conversation with the buisness man he was trying to impress and I didn't have to do much at all except eat delicately. I really didn't add anything to the dining experience so I don't see why I so desperately needed to attend.

All I’d kept thinking about was Jongin and how the preparation for the performance was going. My dress had no pockets so I’d been forced to leave my phone upstairs which meant I’d had no updates, no news. I felt like I was in prison.

I look down at my Father. He's talking to a small group of mainly females all with their back towards me. Looking at them, they absently remind me of a proud group of parents at their children’s first Christmas play. One of them is a girl who has long thick black hair tied back in a pony tail and the more I look, the more it's starting to look very familiar.

I don't even realise I'm slowly rising up from my seat until Changmin asks me what I'm doing.

I lean over the balcony to get a closer look, willing the girl to turn around and reveal her features. I'm starting to feel very very sick.

"Sujin," I say distractedly, "That's Han Sujin I'm sure of it but what...?"

I'm starting to panic now, leaning so far over the balcony that Changmin has to pull me back.

"That's Sujin! What is she doing here? I don't understand!" I shout, fear causing my voice to rise.

"I don't know maybe she's here to watch the performance?" He suggests, looking worriedly at me, still trying to pull me back in to my seat.

"Performance?,” I whisper, the words heavy with dread in my mouth. I don’t even want him to answer; I’m too scared with what he’ll say. “What performance..."

My words trail off as my mouth becomes dry. Thoughts of Sujin leave my head completely, the sick feeling in my stomach rises to my throat and my palms instantly turn sweaty.

Because Suho, Kyungsoo, Baekhyun, Chanyeol, Sehun and Jongin have all just walked on to the stage to stand before the six microphones that are lined up, ready for a performance.