FML || ATEEZ AU

PROLOGUE

[PROLOGUE]

September 8th, 2016
Thursday
8:07 pm



Dear Diary,

Hi.

My name is Faye. I'm a boring 17 year old girl who's parents hate her guts. Well, only one of my parents (I think, I hope); my mom and her piece of shit husband, David.

Teenagers always say that their parents hate them, just to excuse their rebellious behavior,  but my parents actually hate me.  They literally shipped me to South Korea to live with my aunt, just because they couldn't stand to look at me, hiding away in my room.  Which makes absolutely no sense, since they were never fucking home.

If you're wondering, no, I'm not Korean.  My aunt just wanted to be "quirky" and decided to travel the world on her ex husband's paycheck.  When the two of them split, she somehow ended up here.  Said she liked the scenery and handsome men.

My aunt Sarah made for good company, definitely an upgrade from my mother. That is if you ignore the fact that she's a major feminist (which no hate to that) who rarely shaves her legs and doesn't wear a bra.  Just picture Regina George's mom, but with fiery-red hair, that's my aunt.  Minus the pink, my aunt Sarah hates to wear pink.  Clashes with her skin tone.

If you ignore the pointy boobs and cactus legs, my aunt's pretty cool.  I mean, if she never forced me to learn Korean at the age of seven, I would've been lost here.  And South Korea's not too bad, I guess Italy would've been better.  Something about a boot-shaped country just seems appealing to me.

Anyways, my aunt gave me this old and tiny notebook to write my "feelings" in. I've developed a temper lately from unresolved conflict with my mother. Needless to say, I'm shit with my own emotions.

"Here," my aunt said, throwing the small notebook on my desk. She folded her arms as I put down my phone and inspect the notebook.

"The hell is this?" I questioned with a raised eyebrow.

She looked down at the notebook and leaned against my wall. "Well," she pauses, trying to piece together a good explanation for it, "think of it as your therapist." She slid the book closer to me, "This thing is gonna solve all your problems," she finished, enunciating the 'all'.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, looking down at the book again before looking up at her.  Solve my problems? She's got to be joking. "Really? Do I look five to you, Sarah?"

She frowned slightly before shoving the book onto my chest. "Look, Faye, you've had a really hard time controlling your emotions ever since your mom and dad divorced," she spat out the hard truth, and I almost winced at how straightforward she was. "Trust me, this will help."