My Idol

prologue

How did your life end up like this? How did everything become so out of focus? How did everything you thought you wanted end up being something you realized you did not want at all?

It felt like you had been under water, just holding your breath, not able to get to the surface, but struggling every day. You could see the light, just out of reach, but you couldn't break free of the chains holding you down. You had almost given up trying to get free. This was it, this was how your life was going to be. You may as well accept it, since you obviously weren't motivated enough to change it.

But then, for whatever reason, a day came when you decided it was now or never. You would either be stuck in this shitty existence from now until God knows when, or you would do something about it. If you didn't, sure as shit no one else was going to. So you kicked just a little harder, swam just a little stronger, reached just a little farther, and before you knew it had even happened, you broke the surface. Then you took a deep breath, and looked around you. This was not what you wanted. Not at all. So you walked out.

Why did it take you so long to figure out that your life was pretty much just a sad, worthless, unhappy mess? You hated your job, you hated your boyfriend, you hated your apartment, you hated the city you lived in. You just hated your life.

It wasn't like this at the beginning. You were a bubbly, outgoing, happy girl who was going places. You got a job as a waitress, knowing that if you were friendly and pleasant, you could make a killing in tips. It wasn't a horrible job, at least not at first. You met a cute guy who seemed really nice, and the two of you started dating. You were happy.

Your plan was to work for a year or two, saving money towards college, so you could take courses in fashion design and eventually design clothes. You still lived with your parents, so you had no bills except your cell phone, and gas for your piece of shit car. Your parents paid your car insurance because they wanted to help you. They weren't able to pay your tuition into college, so they did what they could to help you so you could save as much as possible.

You had eventually moved into your boyfriend's apartment to be closer to work and save more money. It was walking distance, so you got rid of your car, and walked to work. You were saving up everything you could. You paid your cell phone bill and bought the groceries, and he paid the rent, and the few utilities. He had a decent job and made good money. So everything else you earned you were able to save, and you did very well with tips. You had learned early on to smile, and be polite.

You did your job well, and it probably took a good two and a half years before you started to realize how much you actually disliked it. But you also knew if you wanted to get into college, you had to stick with it. There were nights you brought home close to $250 in tips alone, and you weren't willing to give that up just yet. You wanted a cushion, you wanted to know you had more saved up then what you'd actually need.

You stuck it out, continued smiling, and being polite. By four years in, you despised your job with a passion. To make matters worse, you were also starting to feel distant from your boyfriend. He suddenly had no time for you, was never home when you were, and if you both ended up home at the same time, he avoided you as much as possible. You were pretty sure he had another girlfriend. You let it go, and played along, because at least you had a place to sleep, and shower. Unless he kicked you out, you would pretend everything was good. You weren't even upset at the fact that he had obviously found a new girl to spend time with. You had grown apart. Sex was non existent, and even when it hadn't been, it wasn't great. There was no passion, no bliss, no starry eyed wonder, it was just sex, and most of the time, it was for his benefit only. He had been your first, and only, so you weren't really experienced enough to know all there was to know about sex, but you'd read enough smutty romance novels to know there was more to it than what you'd experienced. Hopefully his new girlfriend was getting more from their relationship than you had.

So for the next year, you just played dumb, and let him think he was getting away with something, when actually, you just wanted the roof over your head so you didn't have to dig into your savings to get a place of your own.

It's now been 5 years. You still hate your job, you hate your life, you hate everything. You're still young, and you hate where your life has taken you. You were miserable. You honestly weren't even sure you still wanted to go into fashion design. You were feeling very unsure of yourself, and of your long term goals in life. You were no longer excited about it. You weren't happy when you thought about it like you used to be. You suddenly felt like you were going nowhere fast. You didn't realize it right away, but when you did, it hit you like a freight train.

Unfortunately, you were at work, taking an order from some very obnoxious customers when it happened. You'd had enough. You calmly set your pen and order book down on their table, took off your apron, hooked it on the back of a chair, told them to have a lovely day, and walked out, feeling them staring at your back.

Funny thing is, as soon as you walked out the door, you felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and you could breathe. You hadn't realized until then that you were being dragged down, held down, suffocating. You took a deep breath and looked around, and for the first time in probably 3 years, you smiled, an honest to goodness, happy smile.

You walked home to the apartment you shared with your "boyfriend", knowing he was at work and wouldn't be home for hours, if at all. You sat on the couch, and looked around. Now what?

You didn't want to be here anymore. Not in this apartment, not in this city, not in this relationship, not in this time zone. You needed to get away. You needed to go somewhere. Someplace where nobody knew you.

In that instant, you decided that you were going to start over. You're going to do it right now. You pulled your phone out of your back pocket, and opened up your savings account info. You had almost $85,000.00 in your savings account. Five years of saving every dime you could had paid off in a huge way. You pretty much could go wherever you wanted, start fresh.

You called the bank, made arrangements to transfer all but $5000 from your savings account to your checking so you could use your debit card for a plane ticket, and whatever else you might need. You would have to stop by the bank later today though, because your passport was in your safe deposit box.

You felt a sense of relief you didn't know you could feel. You felt free. You were excited.

You called your mom, and told her that you had quit your job, and that you were leaving the country. She freaked out, understandably. Once you got her calmed down enough to listen, you explained everything in more detail, and although she was crying, she said she understood, and that she was sorry you had been so unhappy for so long. She asked you if you could stop by before you set off to parts unknown, and you reminded her that you didn't have a car, and would be taking a taxi to the airport. You were about 45 minutes from their house, and you just didn't have the energy or desire to go there at the moment. You promised you would try to come back to visit before the end of the year, and you said your goodbyes.

Now all you needed to do was figure out where you were going to go. That was the tough part.

You glanced up, looking at the large world map poster hanging on the wall. You walked closer, looking it over, but nothing was jumping out at you.

Australia? Switzerland? Germany? Italy? You had no idea how to decide. You turned, and slowly shuffled into the kitchen for a can of soda, pouting over your lack of decision making skills. On the way back to the living room, you happened to glance toward the bedroom, and caught sight of the dart board on the wall. A smile spread across your face as you hurried in and grabbed a dart from the dart board, eagerly making your way back to the living room.

Setting your soda can down, you faced the map. One throw. Where ever it landed, that's where you were going. No second chances, no backing out. You took a step closer, so you wouldn't miss the map altogether. You weren't a dart player.

You took a breath, and raised your hand, trying to remember how you'd seen your boyfriend hold the dart when he was getting ready to throw. You bit your lip, closed your eyes, and threw it.

You let out the breath you had been holding, and cautiously opened your eyes, taking the few steps to the map. The tip of your dart was right in the center of the O in Seoul.

Seoul, South Korea.