"You don't understand, guys!" I shouted. "I'm eighteen! I'm not going to get married, whether you like it or not."
"Aw, she thinks she has a choice," my father placed his hand on his heart in fake sympathy, turning to my mother who burst out laughing. What children.
"Your grandfather has really wanted this for you," my mother reasoned. "We're going to fufil his promises."
"If he wants this so much then tell him to crawl out of his stinking grave and tell me this in person!" I screeched, a hand on my hip.
"You can either move out all alone, no help from us. Or you can do this promise."
I cringed once my father that said that. Do I really want to be disowned by my parents? Never ever.
"We promise it'll only be a year," my mother added and I thought deeply this time. Years go by fast, right?
"And we'll buy you a house, a walk-in closet, anything!"
They got me there. "Deal!"
My mother sat me down in between them and pinched my cheeks. "We knew you'd do it for us, honey."
"Grandad," I corrected. "I swear to God, if this guy is crazy-"
"I promise he won't be."
"Oh ha, where's the secret cameras?"
I couldn't believe my ears when my parents announced I'd be shipped off with another girl to get married! What kind of parents are they?
"No secret cameras, son. This is reality," my father patted my shoulder and I pulled his hand off.
"You both are maniacs!" I hissed, "I'm eighteen! And you know how much I want to go into music! How am I meant to if I have a wife, huh?"
"Don't you even think about music, you're taking over my company once I retire. We've spoken about this."
"Sure I will," sarcasm was laced in my tone.
"You father has worked himself nearly to death because of his work. It's his pride and joy! How could you think of it so little?" My mother decided to try guilt-tripping me. Well, it's not going to work!
"I don't know why I have to go through Hell too just because of your dream. What about mine?"
"We understand you love music, but what's the fun in being overworked, having creepy fans and being a tool of the media? I'm especially not allowing you to have plastic surgery!"
Oh here we go again. My mother's famous plastic surgery rant.
"I thought arranged marriages were old fashioned! I should be able to choose my own wife, right? I'm not ready for this."
"This marriage will teach you important things, like treating women right-"
I interrupted my mother with my hand up. "I think I know how to treat a women right. I've been with enough to know how to treat them."
"Yeah, so going around and dating every single girl in your school is treating a women right." My mother said in disgust. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to mention that. "And there must be a reason why they all broke up with you."
"I'm not looking for a long-term relationship," I defended myself weakly.
"Well, a wife would tie you down so you wouldn't be dating every single girl in your school."
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not his type [completed] ➷b.bhFanfiction
COMPLETED on 18th august 2016 WARNING: cliché, one of my more dated fics lmao. i am not proud of this fic in any way, so be careful hah. in short, this book is so shit lmFAO and i wrote it during my koreaboo phase but im proud of how popular its bec...