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NO MATTER WHAT EMERSON said to his parents, he knew there was no way he was going to convince them that going to Hollywood Arts was a good idea. Laura and Jae-hyuk swore their son off of show business as soon as he was born, not wanting to risk the chance of their precious boy not being able to live outside the life they made for themselves.
What they hadn't known is for all they tried to hide him from the spotlight, it still always found him. At school, he was popular which could be accredited to his angelic smile and rounded glasses. He could be carded away into a friends group of jocks easily, but would still stick out like a colored pencil in a box of crayons.
So they ignored him and their flawed logic; ignored his sighs when he came home from a particularly hard day at school. Shut their eyes when Emerson's tear tracks stained his cheeks when they said he couldn't join a competitive dance team, and instead kissed his forehead while they promised him he'd be better off.
And they'd dismissed him that night when Emerson had casually brought it up while his mother made dinner.
"You don't know what you're getting yourself into, Emerson." His mother warned as she chopped up carrots for the new recipe she had probably found online.
Emerson felt as if he was talking to a wall. "I've been dancing for years, Mom. I just figured the change would be nice." He whispered, trying not to let the tears stinging vengefully slip down his face. Crying never bode well for him, he always felt embarrassed afterwards, so much so that he would end up crying again.
"If you want change, join a new club." His father joked, not looking up from his laptop.
His mother sighed, and waved a dismissive hand.
"Hollywood Arts is a no go, Emerson. You're too young and too good at soccer to be getting tangled up in all of that..." She said, then turning the page of her cooking book with her elbow. "Plus, you have never expressed an interest in the arts."
You've never let me, almost left Emerson's mouth, but he decided if he wanted to live to see the next day, he shouldn't. "You're right, I don't know what I was thinking." He murmured, swiping away the tears that had fallen against his will.
"Neither do I." His dad looked up and winked, finally seeing the devastation on Emerson's face. "Em? Em, buddy what's wrong?"
Emerson hadn't cried in front of his parents since he was six years old, and his parents had dragged him to his grandmother's house while they went to the Oscar's.
What's wrong, Dad? A lot of fucking things.
"Northridge sucks. I can't... I can't do two more years," Emerson's voice shook as he tried to gather his words.
"Northridge is a good school." Laura chided, surprised at Emerson's expression. And to be fair, Emerson was shocked as well, it wasn't like him to open a window that would let in such cold air. But before Emerson could respond, his phone rang.
