Press To Paparazzi

01 | bottled starbucks

I've always been a fan of miracles. You can verify the claim with my three shelved collection of fairy tales and fables, my Internet search history with links to lose love handles overnight, and last but not the least, my one way ticket to Sydney two years ago, when I lost my Pa.

He knew it was a dream of mine to pursue journalism in Australia, but not that his business partner was a grinch who wouldn't mind going as far as taking his life to grab the rest forty five percent share of our tourism company. Well, it once used to be ours, when I would accompany Pa on his morning shifts to the famous grove garden situated in the heart of Seoul, piggybacking on his shoulders with a traditionally attired Barbie flinging out of my bag pack. It was different then... the way I saw my city as one of my own until someone closer than our own blood, betrayed our family in the worst way possible.

The only regret is we couldn't even send her behind the bars for the series of crimes on her record. All I could really do was leave the stark memories behind and plant the seed for a new life- one that makes the world around look a little more brighter. At least that's what the good morning quote Ma sent me at a crippling four in the dusk, said. I bet she'd have pestered Hiro to screenshot the same and the poor guy would've left his slumber to help her out. Yeah, that's what I used to think until a few years ago when I found out he stays up until ten in the morning playing the battle of ogre with his  college buddies. I was tempted to tell on him, but the offering in exchange seemed like a gold mine to give up for the satisfaction of a day of grounding or two. My ticket to Australia.

As much as Ma didn't want her only daughter overseas, and in a country stereotyped for being racist and unbearably hot; she also couldn't hide the fact that we were low in funds to cash in my trip, stay, and the rest of the expenses until I complete University and get a job of my own. I'd almost accepted my fate until Hiro's guilt came to rescue and a bumper prize I won a month ago in a local Wings eating competition, finally popped in our post.

Pa always said I'd been a deep sleeper ever since birth and such that even the Annual parade made no difference to my snores. As embarrassing as it maybe, I agree to it, and to the fact that it's only been two times in my entire life that I tossed and turned in bed beyond midnight; 1) the thought of leaving all ties behind and setting foot in another country gave me all kinds of heebie-jeebies the night before my departing flight to Sydney. Spoiler alert: I somehow made it though. 2) Today, tonight, and this exact moment that I am boring holes in the cuckoo clock on the brick wall on my left, and discreetly averting my gaze to my phone screen every now and then. I keep waiting for the message to poof off the screen, but to no avail.

While I am sweating it out since the day begun, too afraid to face anyone at the University, Kiara is beaming at her hot pink manicured nails by the edge of the bed. I can tell she's ecstatic- any reason to skip classes, even if it's because she might be paintballed for being by my side- the guiding light of humanity as a tabloid has put it, is good enough for her. I don't care much for it, but I never bunk, not even the gymnastics trials which I terribly fail every year. Believe me, I had half a mind to grab a lemon and the month old soda from my mini fridge, get rid of my hangover from previous night, and strut my ass over to University, but... the circumstances this time around were, well, a little scary. More scary than toying around with a bunch of meth balls? I'd probably avoid answering that for the sake of my dipping sanity.