"Are.....comfo...?"

I took my earbud out and looked up at the smiling flight attendant. "I'm sorry?"

"Are you comfortable? Can I get you something?"

I forced a polite smile, "I'm all set, thanks."

My father's eyes seemed to burn a hole through my face as I replied. I felt his eyes on me since we were in the rental car all the way to the airport, through security, waiting by the gate and even now four hours into our flight. I shifted awkwardly in my seat as I put my ear piece back in.

"If you're waiting for a break down..." I trailed off quietly as the attendant left.

"I know," He pulled out a file from his briefcase and set it on the pull down table in front of him "I won't get one. How's Jams? Have you checked on him?"

I glanced both ways down the isle of the plane before bending down to check on my dog in his carrier under my seat. His ears perked up at the movement and he gave me what anyone could recognize as a smile. Even though I didn’t feel much like smiling, the corner of my mouth tugged upward at my best friend with four legs and fur.

"He's fine."

"At least someone is..."

I finally met my father’s stare briefly. "Dad. Seriously.."

He sighed as he turned his attention back to the documents in his hands.

South Korea. The land of fish and rice. The United States government rates the difficulty of learning different languages the way they rate hurricanes. The Korean language is a level 3 and it's the only language that's rated that high. There was no way I was going to understand anyone and I was pretty sure no one would be able to understand me. Plus, I hated fish.

I had friends, a boyfriend and plans. Plans that didn't involve being dragged around a foreign place by my father while he was on business.

I didn't have a choice, obviously. After Mom died, Dad was the only family I had left besides Jams. I couldn't impose on someone else for a whole year, and besides - who would take care of my Dad? The man could help to build a music empire but couldn't remember his blood pressure medication to legitimately save his life. Speaking of.

I checked the clock on my phone. "Dad."

"Hmm?"

"Pills...."

"Mmm.." He dug into his suit pocket.

I watched as he absentminded opened the bottle, his eyebrows furrowed as he still read whatever document he was reading.

BigHit Entertainment. Sounded... original. When an entertainment company was trying to expand their financial horizons and get their acts to appeal to the American populace, there was no one better to call but Dad. From record label companies like Warner Brothers to Aftermath - he's the guy behind the curtain. They hire him on a contract basis to be responsible for a specific band or solo artist to reach new target audiences and build a 'reputable portfolio'. He makes them look good, they get money and he gets money. Sounds cool right? Like I'd be rubbing elbows with Taking Back Sunday or the White Stripes? Yeah.... wrong. Dad kept me from the music scene as much as possible because of 'corruption' or whatever. The drugs, the sex, the parties. He couldn't leave me alone so I was always stuck in a hotel room with Jams. Life would really suck without my dog.

He was a gift from my Father. A way to compensate for time away from me. Birthdays, holidays, milestones my Mom diligently recorded on camera. When Dad brought him home I was covered in strawberry jam. I used to eat the sticky stuff right out of the jar. I was never too big into chocolate or candy, just strawberry jam. It was odd, I know, and when Mom wasn't looking I'd sneak the jar out of the fridge and steal a few spoonfuls. Dad had just set down the small Pomeranian and he was after my face in two seconds flat, helping me dispose of the evidence. He was stuck to my side from that moment on, my partner in 007 jam acquisitions. So obviously, his name had to be Jam and became plural as time grew on. It seemed more natural.

I grabbed a treat from my backpack and slipped him one, waiting until he happily licked my fingers. I'll always have Jams.

I leaned back in my seat and reclined, closing my eyes and tried to fill my mind with more happy memories - but all I could think about were all the things I left behind.

-Flashback-

"It will only be a year... or so...”

"Or so.... or... so.." He choked out a short sarcastic laugh as he kicked at the ground.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and watched his foot, unsure as to what to say. Eric and I had been together for seven months. It was the longest relationship I had ever had, the only one if I was being honest. We had the title and we went together everywhere, he even met my father.

I never liked attaching myself to another person. I knew the inevitable would always come - but this just sort of happened without my realizing I guess, and it felt pretty good to feel like a normal eighteen year old.

"I told you from the beginning, this... this is my life."

"It's your dad's life, not yours.."

"My Dad is my life.."

"Really?" He finally looked at me. "What was I then?"

I couldn't hide the look of shock when I saw his gaze was glossed over with tears. We never got emotional, ever. There were no hardships or deep dramatic conversations between us. I think that's why it was so easy to fall into this relationship. I felt a nervousness roll into my stomach that I had never felt before as he stepped closer.

"What exactly do I mean to you?"

I always thought that was supposed to be the girl’s line. Wasn't it? But here he was standing in front of me, baring his soul in a way I was never willing to bare mine.

A soft sigh escaped my lips as I looked away from him. “You’re my boyfriend. I care about you, but my father is my family. Where he goes, I follow. That’s the way it’s always been and needs to be.”

Suddenly my hands were in his. I tried to avoid his stare and kept my eyes on his fingers as they gripped my own.

“Look at me.”

I couldn’t.

“Jenna.”

“What do you want me to say?” Finally, I met his stare. Unfortunately for me when I was frustrated or angry in situations that were beyond my control my tear ducts would respond. I felt hot wet tears brim in my own eyes.

“He’s my father Eric. He’s the only parent I have left and the only one I’ll ever have. I can’t just stay here even if there was a way to. Don’t you realize what you’re asking me to let go of? And for what? A relationship that will more than likely not last? We’re still kids!”

I could tell that I had my words had hit him hard. I was probably too harsh. I barely spoke about the loss of my mother due to the fact that it was sure to be awkward. People don’t know how to respond to death at any age and it always resulted in pity. I hated pity. I didn’t want any of it. I felt like a dirty blackjack dealer and I gave him a sucker card.

I felt the grip of his hands on mine release and it was as if a wave of defeat washed over the boy standing in front of me.

“I think..” he took a few steps back, this time he was the one not able to look at me. “I think you answered all of my questions.” He nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

I swallowed hard past the lump in my throat that seemed to suddenly appear. “I never wanted to hurt you..”

“Yeah..” He cut me off before I could finish my sentence. “I guess it’s too late for all that.”

“Eric…. I..”

“Don’t bother.”

He turned and started to walk away. Part of me wanted to reach out and stop him. To hug him and tell him that I would miss our easy, gentle moments and that I did care. But wouldn’t that do more harm than good? Facts were facts. I was moving to Seoul. He was going to stay here. Better to make a clean break to make the healing process faster, at least that’s what ‘they’ say – whoever they are.

I stood my ground and watched him walk away into the darkness. I could have sworn I saw him pause for a moment, but soon his figure was enveloped by black.

-

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Incheon International Airport. Local time is 13:00..”

The voice over the speaker and use of military time brought me back to the present. I opened my eyes and stared dejectedly at the back of the seat in front of me.

I just let him go.

“For your safety and comfort please remain seated with your seat belt fastened until the Captain turns off the fasten seat belt sign.”

My father was already unbuckling his seat belt.

“On behalf of Korean Air and the entire crew we’d like to thank you for joining us, please enjoy your stay.”

Not likely.

--

The house looked like it came from a new age architectural magazine. It was completely gray and looked like someone stuck big cement Jenga puzzle pieces in difference directions on top of another one. At least there were big windows
.
“It’s nicer inside.” My father said stepping up beside me while I gazed at what would be my home for the next year.

I shrugged and picked up Jams carrier. “It’s fine.” I wasn't planning on growing attached.
I waited until he unlocked the gate to step inside behind him. There was a small garden to the side with a swinging bench. The flowers looked like they had just been planted and the grass was a lush green. It would be a small refuge from the busy streets of Seoul. As if on a queue in line with my thoughts a myriad of honking sounded off in the distance. I thought drivers in LA were bad, but here riding a bike seemed like a much better idea than driving any day.

There were no decorations on the wash white walls and a good amount of dust on all of the counter tops. I’d have my work cut out for me for sure. I wasn’t exactly the best decorator but compared to dad I may as well have been Martha Stewart.

“I hired some people to come help you unpack. I’ll be around to pitch in this Sunday.”

I didn’t even realize he was behind me while I stood at the entry way to my new bedroom.
Boxes were piled high against the wall near my new, already assembled, bed. By Sunday I was sure to have everything taken care of anyway, but I humored him with a nod as I took a seat on the bed – testing out its comfort. Jams was quick to jump up into my lap.

“I have to run to the office,”

Of course he did.

“There’s a store down the block or you could always order food. I’ll leave some money on the counter. I’m sorry I have to leave so quickly”

“It’s fine Dad. Go.”

“If you need me…”

“I have the number.”

Instead of walking out the door however, he was suddenly beside me. I took a glimpse in the mirror at our reflection before peering back down at my hands. We looked like we were from different worlds. Him in his suit and me in my ripped jeans and long sleeve shirt. His broad shoulders and my lanky stature. Plain Jane and Mr. Fancy. I looked more like my mother than him, except for my eyes. I got those from him. We were so different in so many ways. Sometimes it was hard to see any resemblance at all.

“I know you’re independent. I haven’t left you much choice in the matter. I know that you understand why I work so hard and you don’t like to hear any of this – but I have to tell you. Because.. I’m your Dad.”

I ran the base of my thumb over the palm of my hand slowly, watching the trail I made as he continued. I knew if I spoke, it might cause my disobedient tear ducts to reply. I hadn’t cried in front of him since Mom died. I didn’t want to break the record today.

“I do this to make a life for you, to give you all the things my father couldn’t give to me. You will be happy again Jenna, I promise. Please don’t shut down here. Give it a chance. Make some friends.”

I felt the bed shift before I felt his hand on my arm to pull me closer. I allowed myself to lean in slightly to the side hug, resting my head on his shoulder.

-

“Guys, as we discussed at the last meeting things will be changing a bit. Mr. Clark should be here within the hour. I expect you all to be on your best behavior.”

Everyone looked over at Jimin. He returned their stare innocently enough, mouthing ‘what?’ before a smirk that shone through his eyes spread over his lips.

A sigh and a look of slight discontent washed over the managers’ face. “Mr. Clark has quite a lot of experience having worked with only the best of the best. It is an honor for us that he’s going to help with our new concept for Dark and Wild reaching to audiences overseas. He will be overseeing many practices and events. The more you learn from him, the better it is for the group and your growth. Get changed and I’ll see you guys in the practice room in twenty minutes.”

The sound of metal scraping against tile sounded off as everyone rose from their chairs, everyone except for one.

Jin gave a slight kick to one of the legs of Jimins chairs, “Yah, are you deaf? Let’s go.”

“Assh….” Jimin pushed himself up off the chair and made a dramatic first few steps toward the door.

It didn’t take a billboard or flashing red lights to sound off over his head to tell that Jimin wasn’t exactly excited about the new coming changes. Things were working out just fine like they had been. They had a good fan base and it was steadily growing. Who was this American who probably didn’t know a thing about them to come and change everything he bled and sweat to achieve? That they all worked so hard for?

In the United States boy bands were a thing of the past. Everyone was solo. There was One Direction and a few bands, but they usually came from somewhere else and in Jimins eyes – were soon set into a tail spin of drama and scandals that he certainly didn’t want to be part of. He knew he had to trust his company – they hadn’t lead him down the wrong path so far, yet he couldn’t help but feel as though something monumental was about to change and he would be powerless to defend himself or his brothers in Bangtan. He would be respectful, sure – but he wouldn’t be easy if his name wasn’t Park Jimin.

“Does anyone know anything about this Mr. Clark?”

“I heard he’s a genius,” Jungkook chimed in, his voice muffled into fabric as he pulled his shirt over his head.

Jimin shot him a quick look before digging back into his gym bag, “Okay... anything besides some recycled praise given by the company?”

“Yeah, he’s worked with some big acts. He’s traveled basically everywhere and worked for everyone. Heard he’s a real hard ass.” Namjoon was already tying his sneakers as he spoke.

“Greatttt..” Jimin sighed as he dug around for his pants. Shit. He must have left them in his other bag. “Yoongi, do you have extra shorts?”

“Yeah, the one’s I wore yesterday.” He tossed them to Jimin who could smell them before they landed on his shoulder. He brushed them off quickly.

“Tempting, but no thanks.” If there was anything Jimin couldn’t take, it was bad smells. “Anyone else?”

“Sorry.. but I don’t think your ass would fit in mine.” Taehyung laughed as he threw his bag in his locker.

Jimin sighed as he shoved his shoes back on. “Tell them I’ll be right back.”

“Are you going back to the dorm?” Namjoon asked.

“I’ll be ten minutes, tops.”

“Don’t be late Jimin, seriously. You’ll make us all look bad.”

“Yeah, yeah.. Don’t want to make Mr. Hard Ass unhappy.” He trailed off as he walked out the door.
-
“This is definitely not mine.” I sighed as I dug through my third box of the evening. After shave, cologne and Rogaine.

“Yup,” I huffed as I picked up the box. “Gotta love moving companies. Can’t even read English… Dad’s Bathroom is clearly written right…”

Jams looked up at me, his head cocked.

I stopped short. “Oh, yeah… Korea… whoops.”

My father’s room was at the other end of the long hallway which seemed a bit longer due to the weight of the box in my arms. I felt like I made good time when I finally got to his bathroom. It wasn’t a surprise to me to see his carry on toiletry items already sporadically placed with no organization on the counter. If Mom could only see this. I slid the box onto part of the marble surface that seemed to have the least amount of clutter. It was in vein however as I heard the clashing sounds of contents I couldn’t see spilling into the sink.

“Dammit.”

I blew the hair that fell in my face away from my line of sight as I started to pick up the mess I made. I paused as I found the familiar bottle my Father seemed set on forgetting regardless of my nagging.

“I’m going to fuse this bottle to your face if you don’t start getting more fricken responsible, errhhhhhh.” I groaned as Jams put his two small paws on calf, wagging his tale. He knew when I was about to lose it and he was good at trying to keep me calm. “Well then you be his daughter, okay?”

I dug into my back pocket for my phone, “Siri, call Dad.”

“Calling, Dad.”

It went straight to voice mail.

“Seriously Dad?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Not. You. Siri.” I sighed as I fought back my frustration, dialing the numbers by hand.

“You have reached my cell, you know what to do.”

Running my fingers through the mess that was my hair I started pacing, gnawing on the inside of my lip. “Dad… way to charge your phone.” I hung up, shoving the pills in my pocket.
”Siri, get me directions to BigHit Entertainment.”

My other best friend starting prattling off directions that sounded a lot like she was malfunctioning as I shoved my feet in my chuck taylors, trying not to fall as I did so. I spoke more to Siri and Jams than anyone else, which I could identify as being sad if I was being honest. But I wasn’t on any medication, yet. Dammit Dad.

Jams was skittering about by my feet, not helping my balance while tried to find house keys and the money my Father left. “What? You can’t come. You need to guard the house.”

He whimpered.

“Don’t do that.” Money, check.

He whimpered some more.

“Jams.. stop, seriously.”

Once more, a pitiful whine.

“If you get me in trouble, I swear...” I scooped him up into my arms and used my foot to shut the door behind me as I left.

-

“I’ll have two, no… three jelly donuts.”

“Anything else?”

“No thank you,” Jimin flashed his best smile at the obviously swooning girl behind the counter.
“It’s on me.” She giggled as she passed him the bag filled with delicious goodness that he probably shouldn’t be eating.

He knew he had to get back to the company, he swore he’d only be ten minutes and it had already been twenty. The phone in his pocket was vibrating in a frenzy and he could visualize the look on Namjoons face already. Let them sweat a little, he was hungry and he was only a few minutes away.

Jimin adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder as he walked with little to no purpose.

“But my father works here!” A girls voice boomed from up ahead.

“Sorry… sorry..”

“No.. you don’t understand. I need to give my Dad his medication. Doesn’t anyone speak English here that I can talk to?”

“Sorry.. Sorry”

Jimin paused on the street corner as he licked the remnants of some sugar off his thumb. This wasn’t something he saw every day.

Some crazy white girl seemed to be fighting with one of the security guards outside the company. She seemed a bit more than disheveled, a mass of onyx hair in her face and a small animal in her arms yipping to no end. He paused, this could be better than cable TV.

“Hello??!” She yelled over the guards shoulder as he tried to force her backward, the dog barking wildly in her arms.

“Does anyone in there speak English? My Dad, He’s in there and I need to see him.”

“No English. No Dad. No.”

There couldn’t be another entrance right? He had way too much luck today.

Shoving the rest of his donut in his mouth he turned his snapback hat around low over his eyes and approached the door.

“LOOK! Over there!” The girl frantically pointed toward another direction.

Poor guard, he obviously hadn’t seen many cartoons.

The man looked the other way as the girl ran at lightning speed inside.

“YAH! HAJIMAH.. YAH!”

He took off after her, pulling at his hairs as he went. Jimin couldn’t help but laugh as walked inside after them at a slow strut at first but then curiosity got the best of him as he slightly picked up the pace.

Just as Jimin turned the corner he saw three more guards going after the girl. She sure had some spunk.

“Dad!”

They had her, grabbing her by her arms and causing the dog to land on the ground, barking like crazy and nipping at the guys heels.

“JAMS, FIND DAD. GO FIND DAD, JAMS.” She yelled as one of the guys hoisted her up onto his shoulder, her legs flailing in reply.

Jimin wasn’t sure if the dog was trained by Lassie himself or not, but he seemed pretty smart as he bolted down the hallway quick as a bunny. Did he actually understand? Either way, he couldn’t stick around to find out. The guys were going to kill him.

Stepping to the side to allow the men some room to move the crazy chick outside, he waited as he watched them leave before making his way to the practice room. “Wow...” he laughed under his breath.

---

“Are you crazy? He’s here and we’ve been waiting for you! Asssh.” Namjoon grabbed the top of Jimins head and gave a hard push.

“Sorry. There was a complication at entrance. I couldn’t get by.”

“Complication? Sasaengs again?”

“Nah.. well.. maybe.”

“Good of you to join us, Jimin." If looks could kill.. "Mr. Clark, this is Jimin. He’s one of our vocalists and a fine dancer as well.”

Jimin was surprised to see the man give a slight bow and he returned one as well.

“Anyunghaseo.” He said quietly as he got in formation with the rest of the guys, avoiding all of the angry stares and smiling half-heartedly into the walled mirror ahead of them as familiar music started to pound through the speakers.

Notes

I hope you enjoy. :)