FOREIGN [S.T. S.Harrington & B.Hargrove]

meet the harringtons- intro.

The Harrington house was nearly the same size of my family's house back in Gangnam.

"This will be your room," Mrs. Harrington guides. "You can decorate it however you like, we just ask that you don't put any holes in the walls."

"Of course," I relent, setting my bag on the dresser.

"Steve will be bringing the rest of your things from the car. If you need anything, just ask him."

"That's not needed. I can carry my own things."

"A lady should not be forced to carry such heavy bags upstairs. I assure you that it's fine," she says and leaves the room.

Once I'm alone in the room, I look up at the ceiling and puff out my cheeks in boredom.

While I may hate my family, the Harringtons weren't much better. They were as stuck up and rich as mine. Boring. Dull. Bossy.

And while I thought Gangnam was a boring rich neighborhood with too many snobs, I did miss the chaos of Seoul. The youngest of the Harringtons, Bradley Harrington, was traded for me in a student exchange program. He would live with my family and I would live with his.

Stupid money. That's the main reason I'm in this crap.

My parents swore that I had crossed the line this time. That's why they signed me up for this program.

It was either Hawkins, Indiana until graduation, or join the military until I was of age.

America couldn't be that bad. Hawkins couldn't be that bad.

"Hey, here's the first load," Steve says, knocking on the already open door. "Where do you want this?"

"Just wherever," I brush it off.

Steve shrugs and sets the bags on the bed. He leaves to get more of my things.

I stretch my arms over my head and roll my neck. Jet lag was still horrible. My body ached from sitting for so long.

I pick up a bag that I knew was clothes and sit on the floor in front of the dresser to put my things away.

Steve returns within a few minutes with another load of bags.

"Oh, by the way, you have to be at family dinner by 4:25," Steve informs.

"I'm good. I ate on the plane."

"It's not a choice. My dad said it's law."

I huff. "Great. Punctual. Just like mine."

"Sucks," Steve relates.

"At least yours is already around more. I didn't see my dad much.. maybe twice a month."

"That still makes you the lucky one," Steve reminds. "I wish mine was away that much."

"Until you're stuck with an over-obsessive bitch of a mother that makes you pop a drug test every week."

"Damn," Steve says, making a face. "You might have me beat on that one."

"I could go all day, Harrington."

Steve chuckles. "Well, I'll go get the rest of your stuff and then we can shit on our shitty parents together."

"Deal."