Hannah’s Point of View   It’s late on Saturday. The movie has come to an end and Kyungho has gone to bed. I am back in the sofa after washing up and I am so sleepy that I am almost falling asleep right here and now. Emelia is sitting with her phone while Maria has gone to her room and Mi Young, I think is going to sleep over as she is sleeping in the sofa now. She is going to sleep in either Emelia’s or Maria’s room later, but for now she can sleep in the sofa. We are still filming for Good Sister, and the crew is probably super tired. I can not believe they are still sitting in their little corner tents, all because we are still awake. Kyungho gave me a letter today. A bouquet and a letter: I have the bouquet in water at the top of my bookshelf (for Tiger to not run it down) and the letter is held in my hand as I sit comfortably down in the corner of the sofa to finally – finally – read it. I have waited hours to read this but I have been busy so I am finally, finally, finally, getting to read it. The living-room is dark but there is enough light for me to read the handwritten letter. Like always when reading Korean, it takes time; I am very bad at reading in Korean. His letter is filled with his heart. ‘Hannah Nuna, congratulations on winning! Nuna, you are tired, aren’t you? I feel bad for disturbing the little time you have to rest, but I want to show my support in person by coming to see you at the music programs. I have seen you worry a lot about your album. You have looked tired and troubled preparing for it but seeing you on the stage makes me smile proudly. You are the best, Nuna! Seeing you perform makes me nod and agree that you do well, seeing you backstage makes me want to hug you and tell you to rest. Nuna, I say it again, rest!! You are making me worry because you are sick and still working; you have to take care of yourself so we can play together. Sleep well, Nuna, eat well too and if you want, you can ask me to cheer you up when you are tired. I can even give you a massage! Nuna, only praise is given to you. Everyone I know say you are pretty and beautiful, you are talented and you are my sister. I am proud to be your brother, and thankful for having you and the crazy ladies. Your work is fun, is it not? I like watching it when you are happy. I do well in school for my future, like you have taught me, so don’t worry. It is fun to act, I learn so much and I get to try really fun things, and I get to be a step closer to my sisters, so don’t worry about it. I have good teachers and I am treated well. Nuna, take care of yourself or I will grow bald before I am a teenager by worrying over you. Nuna, I love you so, so, so, so, so much! Thank you for everything you give me and I will do my best being a brother you can be proud of, the way I am proud to have you as my sister.’ I wipe my tears while reading, I keep pausing the reading to wipe my tears. I didn’t know I made him worry so much about me. I laugh awkwardly when remembering the cameras and I glance at Emelia with my hand covering my mouth. “What?” she asks, with eyes still on the phone but she seems to see me anyway. “He wrote a lot,” I whisper. “Mm. Did he write anything about worrying for you?” “He has talked to you about it?” I whisper, shifting my position to not be too sleepy. I keep wiping my tears. “Mm… He asked … if you are tired, saying you keeping coughing and that,” Emelia mumbles for me before looking up at me, seeing me pout. “He worried a lot because he knows you.” “Oh, hush,” I mutter and get up. I don’t want her to lecture me about my health when the cameras are around. I walk upstairs as quiet as I can, Tiger runs after me, also quietly, and I keep thinking if I should go back down or give it a try. I don’t want to wake him up, but if he is awake I can sneak in a bit quick and thank him for the letter. I guess I can’t help but to make people worry about me. I don’t want to but I guess I can’t help it, especially when I get sick like this. The bedroom is dark, he is lying in his bed, but I hear movements when I peek inside. “Are you awake?” I whisper quietly. “Yes?” he mumbles quietly, turning around in his bed. “What is it?” I step inside, pausing by the door in hesitation as I see a camera-woman wanting to come along. I decide to leave the door and walk over to the bed to lie down in it with Kyungho, to quietly tell him that I have read the letter. As soon as I have said it, he leans his head back to look at me; he can probably see me better than me seeing him because his eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and then he puts his arm around my neck to try and hug me. “I’m doing my best to get better from the cold, okay?” I whisper for him, “I never want to worry you, Kyungho, you know that right?” “Mhm,” he is nodding. He keeps leaning further back, squinting his eyes at me. “Nuna, are you crying?” “You wrote me a letter, of course I cried,” I mumble, patting his cheek. “But it is good tears, only good tears. Thank you, Kyungho.” I lie there for a little longer before I let him go back to sleep. Downstairs, Emelia and Mi Young are preparing for bed too so I decide to go to sleep as well. For one hour I lie in bed, turning and turning, sighing and turning again. I can’t fall asleep. Today has been amazing. I feel exhausted but yet not, so after an hour I give up: I get out of bed and get dressed in pants and a sweater before I go out my room to put on sneakers. With music in my ears I leave the house. The night air is cool and fresh and it seems to clear my mind a bit from birthdays and cakes, meeting fans and performances to just go out on a jog. I start walking, stretching a bit, before I start jogging. I don’t know what else to do. I am out for 40 minutes (it is refreshing) and when coming home I go straight to bed after drinking some water. Surprisingly I fall asleep quickly and hard. It’s wonderful. Just for my alarm to wake me up. Tiger jumps up when my alarm starts ringing and I roll around wishing it is just a nightmare ringing, but it doesn’t stop so I turn it off and sits up at the same time. Coughing, my throat hurts as soon as I wake up and I am grimacing, my eyes closed, and I sit still considering lying back in bed to get some more sleep. I am tired and I know right away it will take time to wake up today. I keep coughing when putting on some sweats and then I go to the kitchen to get some water to stop the coughing for now. My eyes are barely open when I go back to my room; I went to the bathroom first too. With a sigh I come back out with my phone in hand, going back to the kitchen. The phone is put on the kitchen table and I go open the fridge, just to start in it. I know I am going to prepare breakfast, but I can’t remember what I had decided to make. It takes minutes before I go around searching in the kitchen for a hint of what I was going to make before I give up – I can’t remember what it was – and I sit down on the floor instead with Tiger and my phone. Automatically I stretch a bit, kissing Tiger and cuddling with her in my arms or on the floor, not really sure what I am waiting for but I don’t seem to be in a rush getting ready. It is Sunday; I got a performance on Inkigayo and then 5 Pieces have a performance too afterwards. It is International Women’s Day, March 8, and just thinking of it makes me fall down on my back groaning. I want to stay home today, Milo comes to the kitchen; he probably heard me groaning and thought it is morning – which it is. “Hello, pretty,” I greet him, coughing as I speak when lying down, and Milo sits down with one paw on my arm, looking pretty with his orange brown fur and confused expression. He probably wonders what I am doing, lying on the kitchen floor, maybe the paw on my arm is like a supportive comfort, as if I need it. He is a wonderful dog, our lost and found dog, but with him there I think I must look stupid, remembering the cameras in the house filming me. I think I am slowly waking up; just to have the thought that I must look stupid I must be waking up. With a groan I sit back up, putting Milo’s face in my hands to kiss his face before I get up on my feet. “Yo,” Emelia mumbles as she comes inside the kitchen, heading straight towards the bathroom in slow-motion. “Morning,” I mumble back. I hope she didn’t see my lying on the floor. I stay seated on the floor, legs spread out around Milo and Tiger is rolling around on the floor against my leg while I pat both the dog and my kitten. Emelia comes back outside after a few minutes. “Are you making breakfast?” she asks me and her eyes scan the kitchen worktop – that is empty. “I thought- mm, but I don’t know what,” I mutter back, not sure if I say a complete meaning “Didn’t you say yesterday that you were going to make pancakes with Kyungho today?” Emelia asks. I did? “You did say that,” Emelia confirms as if she read my thought. I might have, I am not sure, I don’t know if I had decided to do pancakes or not but the only way to confirm is by asking Kyungho if he wants to make pancakes with me for breakfast. So I decide to go upstairs and ask him: Kyungho is sleeping, but when I ask him if he wants to make pancakes he is surprisingly quickly out of bed. Going downstairs, Emelia is sitting down in the sofa, turning on the TV and asking how it went. “We’re making pancakes,” I answer shortly but pause in the living-room behind the sofa. “What are you going to do?” “I’ll watch an episode and then I’ll go out with Milo,” she tells me. Emelia go horseback riding on Sundays, usually in the mornings but she had decided to do it later today because she wanted to have a late morning. “Don’t forget we got a performance tonight,” Emelia reminds me. “Mm… I know.” I pout and sigh. “I don’t remember what songs we’re performing though. I got to go through it later” “I’m done,” Kyungho says as he comes down the stairs. “Make ‘em yummy those pancakes,” Emelia tells us with a hand held up for Kyungho and he laughs when I walk with him to the kitchen. We begin our cooking. With my hair held up with a hair band – Kyungho gets to borrow one too – we take out the ingredients and look through the recipe of what to do before we begin. We are the two making breakfast this morning. Our cooking has just started when I find myself laughing seeing Kyungho drop several little pieces of eggshell in the bowl as he tries to crack a new egg for the pancakes. “It doesn’t work!” he cries out and stomps with his foot out of frustration staring down in the bowl of the cracked egg and tiny little pieces of the white shell. I am next to him when he turns around; with the rest of the egg in his hand I place my palm under his to turn him back to the kitchen worktop. “Don’t turn around with the egg in hand or we will have to wipe the floor,” I laugh and help him put the egg in the bowl – just the egg, though pieces are already dropped in the bowl. “We’ll just have to take the shell out, okay?” “Hm.” He is frustrated and it makes me laugh. He doesn’t cook often, I don’t think he has cracked eggs before either so it is fun seeing him get frustrated when seeing it isn’t as easy as people makes it seem. My arm nudges him. “Try it. Use your fingers to pick it up.” Kyungho starts trying to it up with his fingertip, but each time he is close the tiny eggshell slips around and enters the mess of egg in the bowl. “Aaaaah!!” he whines and stomps with his feet anew in the frustration of not making it after just a few tries and he pushes the bowl to me. “It doesn’t work.” I push the bowl back to him and leans my arms on the worktop, smiling at him. “Try again,” I simply tell him, “We can’t continue unless you get those eggshells up.” “But Nuna-” “I know it takes time to take it up, I have many times done the same, but if you are more stubborn than those pieces of eggs you can do it.” Again I push the bowl a little closer to him. Kyungho pouts and wipes his eye with his arm as if he was about to cry from the frustration. “Its eggshell, not egg,” he corrects my Korean before putting his fingers in the bowl anew. It takes a few more minutes of frustration and effort but he gets the hang of it and I cheer when he is done, patting him on the shoulder and saying he did it. The smile on Kyungho’s face is incredible. “Can you do the next step too?” I ask him, preparing already and he nods. After finishing cracking eggs (that he had trouble with) he has gained confidence that he can do this and he does a lot of things with me supervis