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Well that was a weird dream.

‪Monday morning I roll out of bed and begin my daily ritual of reversing the night's attempt at making me look like I just crawled out of Shrek's swamp.‬

While brushing my teeth I struggle to remember the details of the absurdity of that dream.

It started off normal enough. Having lunch in the school courtyard and chatting with my friends and Namjoon. With the exception being that Eun-ji was twenty feet tall, and a nude Taehyung was busy sprinting through the halls and no one found it abnormal.

Then it morphed into me having supper again at Namjoon's house but suddenly Namjoon and all the others turned into puppies.

Initially my first thought was, "damn how is Namjoon gonna help me study for that physics exam now if he can't even talk?"

Then I realized that no one was there to take care of the puppies so I would have to. Dad was really angry because I brought them all home with me. My cats were even more upset, and eventually a turf war took place, dogs against cats, my babies versus my friends. It was a nightmare.

After that the dream turned into a blur, but I distinctly remember that the puppies began to multiply and I kept losing them and I was starting to wonder if my cats were killing them off.

It was all very traumatizing.

I want to tell Namjoon about it, but I probably won't since he high key judged me for the last dream I had about him. I mean, it's not like I wanted to dream that he was cheating on me with Jin and their illegitimate love child was none other than Jungkook.

Whatever Namjoon! Go on with your judgmental attitude. I'll keep my dreams to myself.

While my bagel is warming in the toaster I go ahead and feed BooBoo and give him another round of medicine. He's eaten well (almost too well) all weekend and now seems to have no qualms about stuffing himself all over again. Maybe the veterinarian or the scales were wrong? Or more hopefully, the rapid weight loss was something attributed to the pain medicine, as Namjoon had suggested.

What I know for sure is that every time I see him eat, it soothes down that ever present worry worm trying to burrow into my heart. Most probably he's still got some time left.

"Y/nbear," dad's voice is solemn from where he stands over the sink, washing dishes. The tone instantly puts me on edge, and the unsettled feeling increases when the sky outside becomes clouded over by blankets of gray. That's got to be a bad omen.

"Yeah?"

His eyes meet mine before a smile brightens his face. "Thank you."

For...?

Not giving me time to think further he dries his hands on a dish towel and makes the short distance to hug me tightly. "But, are you sure?"

Oh. Did Ronald ask him already? He sure didn't waste any time. That stupid bastard. I return the hug, dad being so short I'm able to rest my chin on his shoulder comfortably. "Of course, dad. If you're happy, then I'm happy."

His embrace tightens briefly before letting me go. He places a tender kiss to my forehead then taking a step back, squishes my cheeks together.

"My baby is all grown up now," he ignores my whine of protest and squeezes harder. "I really hate it. But you're so mature, and I'm very proud of you."

"Zanks da." Is all I'm able to get out in this uncomfortable state.

"By the way." he releases my face and takes a tight grip of my shoulders, his face deathly serious. Oh god. I knew it. Here it comes. That omen wasn't for nothing.

"I'm picking you up early from school. Your grandma wants to come stay with us for a while."

I light up and gasp happily. "Granny's coming?" I question excitedly. I love my grandma! She's dope and makes the best kimchi and always smells like butterscotch. Also when she visits she babies me and orders dad around. It's so much fun.

"Yes." Dad replies, his face grim. It all feels very ominous already without the sudden appearance of the rumbling thunder outside the house.

"Dad, what's wrong?" I ask, though I'm not sure I want to know.

His grip on me only tightens and I brace for the worst.

"We have to go pick her up. That means, we have to see the rest of the family."

Just as he says this, the thunder booms once more but this time is accompanied by a mighty flash of lightening.

Well, that was fitting.

Around four hours later during lunch, dad texts and tells me to meet him at the front office. Namjoon pouts and complains as if we didn't spend all weekend and every other waking hour up each other's asses. Leaving him, especially when he's clinging onto me and looking like I'm never coming back isn't something I want to do...but granny is on the same level as cats in my opinion.

So...BYE NAMJOON.

This is exactly what I tell him before running away, leaving him behind to gaze at me with a face I'm getting used to seeing on him. His: 'What the hell is with you?' face. As long as we're together, it's quite likely I'll see that face a lot.

Granny is my dad's mom and lives with my aunt, dad's sister, auntie's husband, and their now four-year-old son, Ji-ho.

I hate Ji-ho. With a passion that burns brighter than Namjoon's grades. Which is to say, a fuck ton.

Granny is (don't tell Namjoon) my favorite human in the whole world. After mom died and I moved in with dad, she came to stay with us for a year while I was getting accustomed to my new life. Back then I was still worried that dad might decide he didn't want me, after all. Tears were something I hid, afraid that if I cried in his presence he would either grow annoyed or think I was being ungrateful about my new living arrangements. My father never said or did anything to make me think that, it was simply something I'd conjured up in my head and convinced myself to believe.

I still remember the first time granny found me crying, hiding in a dark closet and clutching BooBoo to my chest, and what she had said.

"Crying is your body's way of trying to help you. You can't get better until you cry. Don't be a silly goose. We love you, tears and all. We loved your mom, too. So lets cry together from now on, ok?"

It took baby steps for me to get to a point of familiarity and comfort in my new home. Every single one of those steps was walked with Granny by my side, always encouraging, continuously assuring, and forever building me up. She's the one who always taught me to have my own ideals and to not only stand up for myself, but for people who couldn't stand up for themselves. She's the closest thing I have left to motherly love and I cherish her as much as I do my cats.

All that, and she's the one who taught me how to cuss. My grandma's a badass.

Then there's Auntie. Auntie is in her late thirties and for the most part is a stay at home mom, except that she still teaches painting classes on the weekends. We've never been particularly close but I can't say I dislike her...she's just a very annoying and judgmental bitch who believes that having a man in your life is a necessity. So maybe I do dislike her. Apart from being feminine, which I am not, she's also a low key alcoholic with a flare for the dramatics. She's that one person you don't want to go out with, because she'll never forgo a drink if there's one available, and if there isn't, then she will nitpick everything around. From the food, to the music, to the weather, there's something wrong with everything. If there are drinks available however, she's the loudest person on earth.

Uncle, as fucking weird as he is, at least really loves his family. He's very touchy feel-ie, but not in a creepy way (wants to hug when he's sad, always pats me on the head in greeting) and does keep that side of his personality reserved for people he's close to. As far as I can tell he's close with his son and wife and they appear to be one small, happy family. We do have a game we'll play whenever we're together, where we deliver backhanded compliments to each other until the other cracks. Most of time it's him because as I said, he's weird.

I'm not sure why or how it started, but he's a hypochondriac. No matter what the circumstance or how inconsequentially small, he's convinced he's sick and on death's door. Our game is always funny until one of my comments gets twisted in his mind and he overthinks it to the point that he's convinced himself he's fat because his thyroid is under active or he stinks because he's got trimethylaminuria. I didn't know what that was until I looked it up, either.

Granny had a small patch of skin cancer once that she had to have removed and Uncle was convinced he had it too, requesting multiple tests only to find out that he was perfectly healthy. He even went to the emergency room with a heat rash once. I'm not saying all this to make fun of him, because it's definitely not funny.

Lastly, and definitely least is Ji-ho.

Ji-ho is Satan. A demon straight from my worst nightmares. But I don't blame him for it. I blame my aunt and uncle. When I was growing up I had discipline and understood the word no. While mom had no qualms about it, dad never hit me but I still understood that if I misbehaved I'd pay for it later. Auntie and Uncle are the type that feel guilty for disciplining their child, and would rather bribe him into behaving with candy instead of threatening him with a time out. And then they can't figure out why the kid doesn't listen to them or behave.

In short, this is why both dad and I dread having to see the rest of the family. Granny at least is deaf without her hearing aids and doesn't have to listen to them if she doesn't wish to. The rest of us are unfortunately able to hear just fine.

"So this is the escape plan." Dad begins seriously after we make a stop for coffee and are finally on the road. It'll take an hour and a half to get there and this part of the trip is usually the only fun part. "When we get there, you're going to remember that you have a school project ‪due tomorrow‬."

"Ok." Ironic considering I do have a school project handed out just today. Some stupid book report I have to do with Carl, who I'm not even sure knows what's going on.

His only response had been: "Books? I like books. Booksa lotta books." What did that even mean?

"I need your acting to be on point." Dad tells me with a good amount of urgency. "If that fails then we're going to plan b."

"What's plan b?"

Dad's hands tighten on the steering wheel as a deathly serious looks darkens his face. "Hemorrhoids."

"What the hell, why did I ask?"

The trip for the most part is uneventful, not counting the number of Girls Generation songs dad (their biggest fan) belts out at the top of his lungs. When we're nearly there he begins to sweat in anxiety and Namjoon texts me.

😑

This is where Namjoon is wrong. Dad does not care if I send my boyfriend pictures of Voldemort and Lucifer and Madam Sparklepuss with no collars on. Cat plus no collar equals nude cat. Which are nudes. Nude cats, that is. Namjoon needs these pictures. It's not like I've sent him enough photos of my cats.

Dad might not care about that, but I could swear I saw a tear leave his eye the second we pulled up to Auntie and Uncle's house.

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Edited 9/27/21