The walk to Gate 5 (5 is my lucky number!) seems like an eternity. As we stepped closer, I could feel my legs weakening. I know that beyond that gate leads the path to my dreams, but I also know that mom and dad will not follow me there. I have forced myself not to cry, and I will not cry, no, not today. Just a week ago, we were still arguing about this day. I know my parents want the best for me, and I know that my grades will get me into medicine and law school if I wanted to. But though helping others seemed like a good way to go in life, my heart did not lie in hospitals and law firms. My heart called for the bright lights, the extravagant fashion, that spotlight where I could shine and perform to my heart's desire.

Needless to say, I had won the fight and my parents have accepted the fact that nothing they say will change my mind. They only reverted to the old saying of "life will teach you its lessons." But winning does not lessen the pain of separation. These were the people who had taken care of me for sixteen relentless years, and though we've had many ups and downs, I knew that they were the one who I could trust when I could count on no one else. I know the importance of family, but I also know that I will regret it for the rest of my life if I did not go to Korea; I would spend the rest of my life sitting in front of my desk asking "what if...?".  No one spoke, but we all knew that the time to go was looming closer and closer. The excitement of my journey did not contain my difficult departure.

And as I wasted these last moments with needless thoughts, it was already time to go. Time could not go fast enough for today to arrive, and when I am actually standing before my dream, I want time to stop and trickle by as slowly as possible.

I recognize the large burly man from the audition, I wave my parents one last goodbye and join in with the small group that has crowded around him. My heart is pounding like crazy, and the feeling is overwhelming as I am unable to focus. I look around me. Other than me there are four other girls and three guys, and I make a mental sidenote to who seems friendly and approachable and who is not. I am disappointed to notice that the ponytail girl I had befriended was not here. I was sure she would make it, after that flawless rendition of Whitney Houston.

"Say goodbye to your parents, kids, its time to go." The burly man had an extremely high voice for a man of his size.

I turn around and give my parents the bravest smile I could muster, knowing that this is goodbye. This is the first time I will part from them for so long. My parents faces are still imprinted inside of me as I marched over to the gate. My mom is wiping away her tears and my father gives me the same brave smile I am wearing. Maybe we really are alike afterall.

I can hear the other girls behind me, crying as they say their goodbyes. I won't cry. I've made it here without crying, I can last a little longer. I don't want my parents to see me crying as I am leaving, it will make this departure all the more sadder. They need to know that I will take care of myself.

"Not saying goodbye to your parents huh?" A charismatic voice says beside me.

I turn my head to stare at the most beautiful boy I've ever see. He was Kim Jaejoong-worthy. He seemed like a main character who stepped out of an anime episode with his thick angular eyebrows and enormous eyes. He was taller than the rest of us, and comported himself with masculinity and confidence. So much that it was intimidating.

It takes me a few moments to regain my composture and realize he was addressing to me.

"I've already said goodbye. There is not much point lingering on." I say matter-of-factly.

He smirks in response, and that seems to have hit a nerve. You see, my ex-boyfriend...no scratch that. my CHEATING ex-boyfriend loved to smirk.

"Why, I don't see you waving your parents goodbye either." We were the two who were the most ahead of the group. The others were still behind, busy with goodbyes and crying.

"That's because my parents aren't here." He answers with the same tone as I had before while rolling his eyes, which only infuriates me more. 

I slow down to let the rest of the group catch up, and realize that the 4 other girls have each split in groups of 2, and gave off the typical "clique" aura. The three other boys seemed to know each other from before, which left me (hooray!) with him.

"Where are they?" I carry on the conversation. I hate being seen as loner.

"Up there." He points up, and I look up a moment before I realize what he meant. I am suddenly hit with a pang of guilt, but am too proud to apologize. So instead, I just keep quiet.

"You're not gonna say you're sorry?" he asks, slightly surprised.

I am sorry, but I do not show it. "Me being sorry has nothing to do with it. Why should I be sorry for something that wasn't my fault?"

He does another infuriating smirk before we board the train. I smile. Good thing I have full batteries on my ipod, and brought a good book. That should last me for the flight from Chicago to Seoul, without having to talk to him.

I glance at him, and he glances at me, but neither of us talks. His face is so cold in a beautiful way. I can already feel the other girls throwing interested glances at  him. I decide to look  more closely at them, you know, check out the competition. It is amazing that the halls filled with people have now summed up to 8 of us. I also know that most of us will probably not last through. I'm usually pretty good at deciphering people. 2 of the girls look like dancers as they are very gracious even when they are seating and their toned bodies, the third and fourth were probably picked for their looks. As I am analyzing them, I wonder how they would think of me. I am not ugly not gorgeous. Average, borderline pretty, with a petite height of 162 (Hey I can still grow).

I'd rather not look at him. That attitude of his...

I pull of my book out of my purse. Nothing like a good novel to past time. Surprisingly, he also takes out a book, and its one of those self-inspirational ones, you know, the ones pregnant women read, except his wasn't about pregnancy, it was something along the lines of "how to be successful".

I can't retain from rolling my eyes.

"Why, is this book bad?"

"No," I answer, "but you know, if people could become successful by reading that book, tons of them would be. And there is no "how to be successful" guidelines that will fit everyone." I think I sounded more rude than I intended to be.

"Well, it's better than those witless novels you're reading."

"It's not a witless novel."

"Guy meets girl. They have flirty, who-are-you phase, fall in love, something happens and their love is endangered, everything is then magically solved, happy ever after. Just watch any K-drama."