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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𝔽𝕠𝕦𝕣|"𝕋𝕙𝕖𝔸𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕋𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤𝕠𝕗𝕄𝕚𝕟, 𝕂𝕚𝕞, 𝕁𝕦𝕟𝕘"
The next morning, I expected to wake up in the same brightly lit room I'd fallen asleep in. But instead, I woke up in my new, and back to very boring and plain, room. I groan seeing the creepy mini-me doll back on the plush armchair next to the bed, (one of the only furnishings currently in the room), and my BT21 plushies's eyes missing the buttons. My normal ones, anyway.
I kind of preferred them without, to be honest. They freaked me out a bit. I head out of the house that morning, and back to the woods to try and open the well, expecting to see the bright portal and colors again. However, when I lift the manhole cover after unlocking the button-covered padlock, there's nothing there again. Just pitch black. So it was all a dream?
When I get back home, a bit defeated, my dad, who I guess is now back, looks angry to see me in my black Chelsea boots that I'd deemed rain boots, and my yellow coat. His arms are crossed. Guessing he's mad because I wasn't here when he got home.
"Oh! Dad!" I chuckle awkwardly. "I didn't know you were home."
"Yes, princess, I'm home, and you're in trouble. You aren't supposed to leave without telling me. I almost had a heart attack when I got back and you weren't here."
'Says the one who's never around.' I think to myself.
"Right, I know. Sorry, Dad."
He sighs, calming down, and coming over, and giving me a hug. "It's fine. Did you at least eat well, and sleep alright last night?"
I nod. "I did. I had the best dream too; but it was a little weird."
"How so?" He asks curiously.
"Well, it felt so real." I describe. "I dreamt that you weren't really you, you were my 'Other Father.' You had buttons for eyes, and black hair. You made the best roasted chicken I've ever tasted. It was like, totally out of this world."
"Black?" He questions. "But my hair is blond."
"I know, it was weird. But it felt so real. That chicken was the best. I only felt like I ate the whole thing."
He chuckles. "You only dreamed the part that you ate all the chicken?" He scoffs. "Mine is likely better."
"Sure it is, Daddy." I say, sweetly.
But the chicken I'd tasted last night, dream or not, was out of this world. I'd never had anything like it; that was for sure.
"Well, dream of not, if you need something to do today, why don't you go and visit downstairs?" He suggests. "I'm sure those actors would love to hear about your dream as well, and meet you, my little dreamer. They're pretty nice."
