She's a Monster - Mark Tuan and Got7 fanfic

Part 1

"What the f*** is with this traffic?" Trisha just got off the airport and is on her way to see her dad, Sung-ho Lee, whom she hasn't seen for 9 years. 

Ever since her parents had divorced, Trisha had been living with her mom in the U.S. Her mom was a high school teacher in a small town in Chicago. Just a month ago she died of cancer and Trisha, with nowhere to go, has to live with her dad in Korea. 

Trisha was already hating the idea of coming back to Korea. The last time she was here was when she was 9, that was a little more than 11 years ago. They moved to the US because of her mom's work. Her dad came back to Korea 2 years after when they got divorced and opened up a small restaurant in Cheongdamdong in Seoul. 

She searched her bag for her phone and dialed her dad's number. 

"You didn't even pick me up." She shouted as soon as her dad answered. "This freakin' traffic is killing me." 

"Trisha, calm down. It's just traffic." Her dad, on the other line, said gently. "The restaurant's busy today so I wasn't able to come get you. Just be patient."

"Ugh...." She wanted to throw her phone out the window. 

She ended the call and rested her head on the back of the chair. 

"Why did I even agree on coming here?" She thought to herself. 

It took her about three hours to get to her dad's place. She got down the limousine bus and walked a few blocks. 

"Ugh...I hate walking." She started complaining again. "Where is that damn restaurant?"

She took out the paper where she wrote the address from her jacket pocket. 

"Finally!" She dropped her bags and luggage on the ground and stood in front of the entrance. "Welcome to hell." She let out a disgruntled sigh. 

"You're here. Welcome. I miss you." Her dad walked out of the restaurant towards her with his arms wide open.

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "So, where do I stay?" She didn't even look at her dad. She was looking at the buildings in front of her. 

"Oh, right." Though a bit disappointed that her daughter didn't even say hello, Sung-ho was still all smiles. "We live second floor," he said in his best English. "This is the entrance," he lead Trisha to the side of the building where a flight of stairs lead to the second level.

"Carry my bags, will ya?" She ordered her dad as she treaded her way up the steps. 

The door opened to a spacious room with a bookshelf serving as a divider for the living room and the kitchen/dining room. To the right, facing the street, is a full length wall-to-wall window that leads to a narrow veranda. To the left is a slender staircase leading to the upper floor where the rooms are. 

Trisha looked around. "Ugh," another grunt. She walked up the stairs and leaned over the railings down to her dad who was bringing in her luggage. "Where's my room?" She asked rudely. 

"It's the one on the right. Would you want to...." 

Trisha didn't bother to hear the continuation. She went in her room. It was girly, with flower-printed wall paper, pink sheets and pink and white drapes. 

"Shit? What does the old man think of me? A little girl?" She slammed the door behind her and tossed herself on the bed. 

A few minutes later, her dad knocked on the door. "Trisha? Come down and eat." 

"I'm not hungry." But, she was. She just didn't feel like eating. 

"Ok, honey. I leave your bags here."