Dear Diary,

It’s Youngjae. I feel stupid writing this because I could be sleeping, but Mark threatened to break my arm with his skateboard if I didn’t write an entry, so here I am, hunched over my nightlight and trying not to wake Jaebum up, as I’m scribbling in this tiny book.

Honestly, when I decided to confide in Mark, I was expecting more of a pat on the back or him offering to buy me dinner, because, you know – that’s what Mark does. Instead, I saw this slightly panicked look in his eye even though he has yet to tell Jaebum about what I said, so I guess I made the right call. Jaebum’s a little… different from Mark. He’s more callous with his words, and he jumps the gun way too often.

Still, writing feels like such a waste of time. I pen down whatever random thoughts I have, and what happens next? Do I reread them every week? Or every month? Once a year? How many times do I reread them before I throw them away? I don’t understand why a smart hyung like Mark would have such a sentimental albeit meaningless habit, but I’ll trust him for now, and I’ll officially begin my first entry.

I miss Mom. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen her, and I guess that’s because today is Mother’s Day, which was why these feelings resurfaced. I ordered a bouquet of flowers to be sent to her, and I know she’ll love it, because she loves white lilies and tulips, but I also know that she would have wanted nothing more than for me to personally hand her those flowers. It makes my heart twinge at the guilt, because this would have been the second consecutive Mother’s Day in two years where I had to email her my wishes, rather than convey the words face-to-face.

It’s not fair of me to complain about how much I miss my parents, when Mark, Jackson and Bambam’s families are literally thousands of miles away. I know that Jinyoung’s parents are living in Jinhae, and they’re equally as far away from Seoul as my parents are, but there’s a difference sets them worlds apart – my parents are afraid of flying. They could barely send me off on a plane to Seoul after I had told them about having been chosen as a trainee. My mom had cried so much when I first broke the news to her, and if my yearning to be a singer had not been as overwhelming then, I probably would have given up on the whole trainee thing and stayed in Mokpo.

I would have had an average university life after graduating from an a