WHO REALLY CARES ━━━ vernon chwe

ONE | empire state of mind

ONE : empire state of mind ━━━━ big lights will inspire you

"What's that one song that your friends used to ask you to play in the car often?" Baxter Dame, Ruthie's father, is currently sporting a goofy smile on his face as he glances over at his quiet seventeen-year-old daughter, trying to lighten the sour mood as her lips are pulled into a tight frown. Her brown french braids flutter in the rushing wind being let in by the car's window, and she glances up at her father, obviously not wanting to participate in the conversation. 

The late August sun beams through the window as all Ruthie sees outside are trees and barren land, and she glances down at her phone, discouraged at her father's awful small talk and the lack of usable internet. Her friends were probably blowing up her messages by now━it wasn't like she could see their messages coming through, anyways. Not out here.

"It goes something like━" Baxter hums, fingers brushing the steering wheel as he taps a tune Ruthie doesn't bother recognizing. After a few seconds of stopping and failing, his face lights up, now realizing the song he was trying so hard to remember. "In New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made of....what is that song titled again?"

He looks to his daughter again quickly, obviously now waiting for an answer. Sighing, Ruthie finally gives in, dark brown eyes dashing away from her father's gaze as she mumbles, "Empire State Of Mind by Jay-Z and Alicia Keys, Dad."

His face lights up even more, and Ruthie's convinced she hadn't seen him smile like that ever since his ex-wife━Minhee Choi, Ruthie's mother━had announced their divorce. He spent the last two months working to move the extra stuff from the well-furnished house, which was also now also Minhee's property. Ruthie watched him every evening, quiet and emotionless as he packed up the boxes that were now in the old Chevrolet truck's trunk the two were crusing in.

Ruthie's father had took her to New York a few times when she was younger: she was four or five, visiting her great-grandparents every few months as they were the only family Minhee had in the United States. The seventeen-year-old couldn't remember anything from those visits, except the few times her great-grandparents would make dumplings and bibimbap for the three to eat for dinner time at their house. 

Ruthie didn't even like bibimbap.

And here she was now, actually moving to New York━her father had already gotten a hold on a small apartment in the more rural areas of Manhattan. Ruthie doubted there were rural areas in one of the most popular cities in New York, but she didn't tell her father that she disagreed with him.

Baxter was over the moon about the new start, even if Ruthie thought her father was moving on too easily from her mother. She still wasn't even fully accepting of the split, and it had almost been three months since her parents agreed on the divorce. She would never accept the split: not only was she split away from her mother, but all of her friends at her old school were gone too. She was told she was starting at a private school due to a scholarship the school had given to her, and she had just a week before her first day.

If Ruthie Choi knew anything, it was that she was definitely not ready for a private school━they were usually filled with stiff, spoiled, and perfectionist teenagers, and they flaunted everything, from the high-end uniforms to low acceptance rate, only about three percent of all applicators being let in.

It was a miracle Ruthie was accepted━her grades were average, some A's and B's, and Algebra 2 was giving her a hard time before she left Baltimore. Her grade had went from an 87 to a 43 in a month, and she didn't have time to bring it back up because her tutor had taken a break to nurse her grandmother back to health, leaving Ruthie with a terrible grade before she left high school.

Even now, she stared down at her Algebra 2 workbook, the pages crinkled with hours and hours of stress and wear. The cover was even scratched, and Ruthie swore she could even see a few teardrops staining the cover permanently. She had shed tears over that book too many times to count.

"We're almost there, just an hour and thirty minutes left." Baxter broke the silence again, and Ruthie's dark eyes continued to glaze over the drab landscapes beside her, and the rickety truck creaked as it hit a small dip in the dirt road, causing Ruthie to almost lose her glasses out of the window. Her stomach grumbled as if to protest her hunger, and she glanced down at it, shifting to reach into her purse for snacks before her dad handed her a granola bar, causing her to glance up at him in disbelief.

"Please eat this, Piper. Those gas station store snacks aren't good for you or your system," Baxter pleaded with his teenage daughter, even going as far as to use her middle name to address her. Ruthie's parents and a few close friends only called her Piper, and she used to adore the moniker back then. Now, it's just a sour memory of the life she had left behind.

"I don't want granola, though." Ruthie's nose scrunched up at the bright, unappealing packaging, but Baxter didn't budge, dropping the bar in her lap. "Ruthie, please."

Sighing, she took it begrudgingly, unwrapping it as she took a bite big enough to shut her up and appease her father's wishes. He smiled at her, and turned on the radio, static meeting the two as Baxter grimaced. Ruthie watched his face, noticing his long eyelashes and the graying of her father's hair. He looked almost ten years older than he actually was, and Ruthie felt bad for him in one sense━the divorce and move had took more from him than just a bit of happiness and money.

Minjee was his world. Minjee was Ruthie's world.

A world that seemed so far away from the two now.

"Go to bed, Ruthie." Her father's voice was strained as she looked to him, and she understood why for the first time in these past three months. Both her and her father were thinking the same exact thing: their life had changed, and not for the better. It was written in everything, from the tired look in Ruthie's father's eyes as he finished packing the rest of the things into the trunk, to the quietness between the two that wasn't usually there before.

Saying nothing more, Ruthie resigned herself to close her eyes and feign sleep until it came, face pressed against the leather seat as tears began to brim behind her eyelids. She hadn't cried a single tear yet, and she felt as if the dam of strong emotions she thought did so well in hiding was on the brink of breaking, tearing at the seams and leaving Ruthie bare and stripped for all to see.

Ruthie hated being bare━all of her insecurities leaked out into the world around her when she let herself go, and she couldn't be hurt again. She'd been hurt too many times the past three months to get another scar on her back or scratch on her wrist. She couldn't go back to the way things were before, and it was obvious. It hit her even harder when she could see the Welcome To New York sign in the distance, taunting her and her unfortunate situation. 

The green sign's font was cheery, but she couldn't bring herself to smile. Neither could her tired, overworked father who was worried about everything from the small house he had rented out to the job interview he would have just a few days from now. The two had everything drained from them, and it pained Ruthie to even try to attempt a smile. She was so tired of it all.

So very tired of it that the teenager drifted off to sleep without another thought.