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"Do you ever put that thing down?" Yoongi hyung asked me
"What? My notepad? Never"
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Lee Yong-ho
A boy who never leaves home without a note...
Its a dark, gloomy, grey day. The rain makes a soft "clack" when it hits my bedroom window. The small, tinny, disputable room. Despite it being small, I find it quiet cozy if I do say so myself! Although the calendar says September, fall is quick to remind everyone that it's arriving. "Yong-ho?! Are you up their?" My father's deep voice echoes threw out the cracked walls. I sighed and traced the tip of my finger across the old text books connected to my desk. "You better be studying and not daydreaming young man!" "I'm upstairs in my room, appa!" I called out. Quickly flipping threw a random page and copying down random word problems. I heard his boots clomp on the stairs and some "click clacks" of heals. Probably my eomma. "Theirs my money making boy!" My moms voice shrieked as they both entered my room. I sucked in my teeth and spun around with a classy smile. "Hello eomma, hello appa!" They strolled down to my room and sat down on the bed. They had smiles on their faces and cigarettes lighted in their hands. Their was a wicked smile plastered onto their face and a twisted feeling settled into my stomach. "You like music, don't you son?" My father asks me. I nodded my head and waited for his next sentence. He drew a large amount of smoke And exhaled it. "I saw....an advertisement on the streets about something with additions to become an idol.....I want....you to sign up for it" with each inhale he had that daises look into his eyes. This had shocked me. If I even rehearse a line from EXO "Growl"-this man would grow super hearing ears and scold me from not working. They wanted me to go to the best schools with the best scores. They wanted me to become a doctor and work off all I've cost them growing up. Clothing? I have to pay that off. Food? I have to pay that off. Sleeping? I have to pay that and tax. "But what about studying and-" "-you can make double the money a stinking doctor could." My mother butted in. Their was the explanation that was needed. She shoved a paper into my arms and I grasped it. My hazel eyes quickly scanned the paper.
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BigHit calls for you! We need all of you with talent to audition to become an idol in our new boy group! Think that you have what it takes?
Show up at XXXX east, XXX Avenue and XXXX street! (So Sorry females, we're only accepting men. Audition begin at 8:30 AM and come no later than 12:33 PM or you won't be accounted for)
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"Well? What are you waiting for? Go to the auditions and make mommy proud!" And with that sentence, they left. I ruffled my brown hair as my hands reached down under my textbooks and pulled out my hidden notepad. I flipped to a new page.
6-23-2013 ▶️ chose a song. ▶️ practice. ▶️ go to an audition holdout and signup. ▶️ complete the audition and study for math on the way home. ▶️ pick up dinner and prepare it. ▶️ clean up kitchen and living room and head to bed.
As soon as I finished the list, I headed online to pull out a song I've memorized. "Ain't No Fun" by BIG BANG. I smiled and started to pack my backpack. I stuffed a folder filled with worksheets into the backpack along with my phone, pencil and keys. I almost put my notepad in their before I crammed the small thing in my front pocket. I grabbed my helmet and shoes and carefully put them on as if my parents were still watching. I snapped on my helmet and grabbed my blue rusty-but still working-bike. I pushed off with one foot and petalled down to the building. I recited the lyric of "Ain't No Fun" as the cold wind whipped at my ears. When I arrived to the building, I chained my trusty bike to a pole. I calmly entered the double doors to be filled with teenagers my age. I freaked out on the inside but had a face of determinism on the outside. I bravely walked over to the desk. "Hello. Name state of business" she loudly chewed her bright pink bubble gum as she twirled her long black hair and played with her green sweater. "I'm here to audition" "Name, address, date of birth, and phone number please." "Lee Yong-ho, Dong District, Daegu, South Korea, 06-07-1997, 111-111-1111" (A/N: this isn't a real number-don't kid yourself) "Mr. Lee, your number thirty-four" she handed me a paper with the numbers "thirty-four" with tape on the back. I quick but calmly stuck it to my shirt. "Go sit down and wait for us to call your number. I sat down and pulled out my folder and started to crack down on problems.
