"I'm not learning this bullshit!" I yelled, slamming the piano shut.

I'm not ever going to learn this. I won't become like my mum. I don't have to.

"Kim Jisoo!" My father yelled. He re-opened the piano and sighed. "You will learn this. You will become a prodigy. I've been putting you off for too long."

"No! Fuck no! I don't want to!" I kicked the piano. It hurt my foot, but I wasn't going to let him see that.

He rubbed his temple. That shows that he is annoyed with me. When he is annoyed, I get my way. "You don't have a choice in this. Your mother wants you to."

"She's not even here!" I yelled, furrowing my brows. "What choice does she get to make if she isn't even in my life! I don't even remember what she looks like. For fucks sake."

"Language." I took a deep breath and calmed myself down before I exploded. "Your mother is busy-"

"-That's why she never bothers to call, eh? She never does. She had me and fucked off. She doesn't even ask how I'm doing, " My tone dropped. I was now quiet, lightly kicking my foot at the piano.

"That's why she wanted you to learn it. She wants you to become like her. I do too." I looked back up at him. "Do this and become something for yourself. Win awards. Travel! Just don't slouch in the house all day."

I'm angry. I'm fucking furious. What am I going to get out of it?

"No. I won't do this."

"Well, you aren't going to work in that shitty café all your life!" He yelled, stamping his foot to the ground.

"Why!? I will do what I want!" I stood up straight, getting ready to leave. "You don't get to decide my life. Neither does that shitty excuse of a mother." I left, going upstairs to my room.

He doesn't yell at me when I call her that. I don't know why. I think it's because he knows I'm right. She's a famous pianist and plays for big orchestras. Once she had me, I never saw her.

She never showed up for my school plays or even my birthday. Heck, she never even bothers to call and wish me happy birthday or send me anything.

And the excuse always is, She's busy.

I only ever see her one time a year. Christmas. Twice if she has time off and thinks about us. But then, I don't respect her or even talk to her.

She always acts sad about it. That's her own problem. She should've thought about how I was going to behave if she wasn't in my life.

I've never had a mother figure.

I had to work out things on my own that my father didn't know about.

Like my period, or my bra sizes.

Something a mother would do. But no.

She never had the time to raise her child. Why even bother to have one if you were going to fuck off. I spent too much of my past time, crying about it and getting jealous of people whose mums love them. Way too much time on that shit...

I don't care anymore. I really don't.

I slumped on my bed after locking the door. I grabbed my phone and decided to just scroll. I'm not going back down. I don't have the motivation to do anything now.

I don't want to learn the dumb piano.

It's fuckin stupid.

Ring... Ring... Ring...

It's the sound of the house phone. Sometimes j feel like she can read my mind. My mother. It seems every time I curse her or think shit about her, she finds some way to come to me. She's the only one who calls the house number and not our private ones.

"Jis, honey. She wants to speak to you, " Said my father, knocking on my door. I grunted, getting up, unlocking the door, grabbing the phone and slamming it back shut.

"What?"

"Hey, baby. How are you?"

"What do you want?" I looked at my nails, biting them slightly. "Hurry."

She sighed. "I heard you're going to play the piano. I just wanted to say, I'm proud of you." That pissed me off. She isn't proud. She never was. "I wanted to tell you, do what you want. The piano is hard and I don't expect you to want to do it. Just please, give it a thought? I love y-" I ended the call.

I don't need her sappy love.

She doesn't love me. She's just saying that to make her fans believe she enjoys spending time with me.

My dad came into my room, I'm guessing he's been standing outside all this time. "Honey..." He said in his sweet tone.

I love my dad. He's always been here for me and thought me everything I need to know, even if he didn't understand some things. He's the best.

I smiled at him and he sat down on my bed. I sat next to him, resting my head on his shoulder. He patted my head. "Can we talk?"

I hummed in response. "I want you to do the piano, okay? Do it for me. I'm not asking for you to become a prodigy, that was your Eomma's idea. I just want you to pick up a hobby." I sat back up. He seemed genuine.

I sighed. "I don't want an old man as my tutor.." His smile widened and I couldn't help but smile back. My dad has done a lot and only got the bare minimum in return. Yet, he is so grateful.

"No worries!" He got up. "Jinjja? Will you really learn it."

I don't want to.

At all.

But for him, to see that smile, I would. My mother left the burden of raising a child on his own and provision for me. She didn't even send him birthday wishes or valentines flowers. He always remembers to send her stuff. She never does.

I nodded. He raised his fist. "I love you, Chu."

"I love you too appa."

He kissed my forehead before happily leaving. He then screamed, "I'll start looking for tutors!"

I chuckled.

I would go to hell and back for my dad. He's way better than the lowly excuse of a mother.

Back to piano. The music is relaxing and I love classical. It's just, I hold grudges. My mother left everything here to pursue being famous. A lot of famous people have.

That is what annoys me.

I put in my earphones, letting my hair spread out on my pillow as I played some classical music.

I closed my eyes, drowning into the sound of instruments being played over each other.

The moon is beautiful, isn't it?