‘yoonsuk, where are you going?’

I stare at mother silently. Her high-pitched voice echoes in the darkness of the room. I turn back and leave. I don’t look behind me but I imagine her, beautiful and somber. She doesn’t move and waits. Whenever I think of mother, I see her waiting for me. It’s like her life has always revolved around 4pm, the time when I get back from school. All that’s before is a wandering experience. I’ve always thought her love for me was unhealthy. I feel it when she holds me in her arms. No one has ever held me the way she did as if she would never let go but god knows she did. She listened to him. And that’s enough for me to forget that the bond between us is stronger than that bastard’s will to see me leave. I wish I could see him one last time before I run away from home and tell him what I truly think. Mother only married you because she thought you would look after me. You are merely a replacement. I would’ve said it if I had the chance to. I mentally curse myself for not leaving him a note.

‘yoonsuk-ah, yoonsuk-ah, yoonsuk-ah’ the voice grows distant and I’m gone, my heart as solid as a rock.

Even if she screams, she wouldn’t move after all. She didn’t follow me.

I get into the first cab I catch. The driver greets me, a warm smile on his face. He must be around fifty, the same age as my father who’s somewhere in the united states of america, busy making a living and forgetting about my existence. I feel like talking to him, talking to anyone willing to listen. I don’t care if the words we exchange are empty. I don’t mind talking about the weather or sports. Any topic is fine as long as I get to talk. All I want is to be distracted from my own story.

He asks where I’m heading.  

‘sm entertainment, please’

‘aren’t you a little too old to be chasing around celebrities?’

It’s all about me again. I bite on my lower lip. ‘I’m a trainee. I sing’, I say. 

He looks at me and I feel under his gaze. I get off after paying him. I don’t get to hear his answer but I know what he’s thinking. This kid won’t make it.

My fingers touch the wall painted in sky colors. I feel like I’m in front of heaven’s door. I’m only inches away but the door wouldn’t open. I came twenty minutes early for my singing rehearsal so I got into the closest empty practice room I found. I sit on the floor and sing just like the first time. I’m a fool for choosing a ballad my mother likes to sing. Guilt is getting to me. Maybe I shouldn’t have left home. I sing higher and my heart is about to burst. When will I make my debut?  Maybe the bastard’s right.  When I get praised for being ambitious, he has that urge to correct it. He’s a dreamer, he says.  His tone is heinous and I doubt he remembers how beautiful dreams are.

I’m a dreamer, a dreamer, a dreamer. The word is on repeat in my mind. I try to figure out what that means but I don’t have a clue. I mess up the melody and get angry. I scream at the top of my lungs and let out the frustration. I stop singing.

I turn back. Around me, dozens of eyes stare at me. I bow and leave the practice room.

 ‘hi yoonsuk, since everyone’s here, I’ll make the introductions. This is mingyu, his American name is brian. He came from Los Angeles.  Greet him’, my vocal coach says.  

‘what for?’ I ask. His silly eyes look at me. He’s confused. Yet, the smile on his face doesn’t fade away. Brian looks delicate and frail. I notice he’s shorter than me. He’s wearing a purple top and leather pants. I glare at him. He swallows hard.

Dumb. He’s dumb, I think.

‘he’ll make his debut with you as a duet’

‘what for?’, I repeat, ‘you think I can’t make it on my own?’  I leave the room and let myself fall on the floor. I can hear them talk. The coach is apologizing for my groundless behavior and that brian guy is silent.  I hide my face in my knees and bite on my lower lip. Nothing goes my way. I stand up.

‘w-wait’