Having a daughter is hard, but there's nothing harder than raising a teenage daughter as a single father after a move halfway across the country. Kim Seokjin didn't think things could get any harder, until his teenage daughter started to prefer the...
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𝕆𝕟𝕖 | "𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℙ𝕚𝕟𝕜 ℙ𝕒𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕖"
-You- My father says I'm too much of a dreamer. An un-realist with dreamy-like expectations, and that while it's good to have dreams, they won't get me many places in the world. I don't agree with that though, because if he didn't follow his dreams, he wouldn't have the job of his dreams. But maybe that would've been better if he stuck by his beliefs, and didn't have dreams, because maybe then he'd be able to understand mine.
I don't understand why there shouldn't be dreamers in the world. Without dreamers in the world, where would the rest of us fall? Because as we believe, there are dreamers, and there are realists in this world. You'd think the dreamers would find the dreamers, and the realists would find the realists, but more often than not, the opposite is true. See, the dreamers need the realists to keep the dreamers from soaring too close to the sun.
And yeah, maybe I need my father's realism sometimes to keep me from burning out at the sun's fingers. But I think he needs the dreamer in me to keep reminding him of that nervous, jittery feeling of excitement in life that reminds us we're alive. Otherwise, where would be the balance? You can either be a dreamer, or a doer. Can you guess which one I am? I prefer to be a dreamer when the doing isn't available.
Because yeah, I have dreams too, just like everybody else. Some of mine maybe a bit more colorful than most. But when you're always the new kid and moving around a lot because of your famous parent, it's hard to keep friends when you have to hang by yourself. Yeah, it can be really lonely; that's for sure. But trust me, that's why I have dreams, because that's how I keep things interesting. So that caused me to wonder—just how exciting this new place would be.
"Dad, I hate this place." I comment, complaining as we pull up to the Pink Palace apartments; where we'd just moved to.
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"Too bad." He replies in a joking manner, but his tone soon turns sour, "You know why we had to move."
"Yeah, but why...here? And why is this place pink?" I complain again. "It's ugly."
"I think it's pretty." He responds.
I just roll my eyes. My dad always had some weird obsession with the color pink, one that I'd never understand. I, personally, despite being my father's daughter, and unfortunately a real Daddy's girl, hated the color pink. My dad and I are quite close; despite him not being around much due to working all the time. He was a famous chef, which meant we'd move around a lot so he could open new restaurants, and teach his culinary classes.
