Chapter Two: Saved By A Jerk

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ASDFGHJKL!

I'm updating extra early because I'm in a good mood and tomorrow I have a competition (STACAA to be precise) and...

I just watched the music video of "Hate" by 4Minute!!

Ack!!

The beat drop is killing me! You should check it out too ;)

The girls are just so darn gorgeous! Especially Gayoon <3


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The birds chirp happily outside the morning sky, whizzing through your window. You sat up on your mattress and stretched, hearing your bones and muscles make a satisfying crack. You looked through your window and gazed upon the rising sun. You grinned gladly as you let your feet meet the cold and smooth floorboard.

You were quite happy and contended with yesterday's bot fight so you cheerfully headed to the kitchen right after tucking your winnings in your saving stash.

You saw your Uncle Patrick at the living room, reading his usual morning newspaper with his reading glasses on. He peeks above his papers and watched you as you poured yourself a glass of cold water.

"So, where were you last night?" He asks, and you nearly spat the water from your mouth.

"What?" You wiped the remaining excess on your mouth using your sweater.

Uncle Patrick sets down the newspaper and intertwined his hands together, elbows on the arm rests, his gaze sharp on your trembling figure. "Do I have to repeat myself? Where were you last night?" He asks once again, demanding this time.

"I . . . . was at my room, sleeping? Where else would I be?" You answered convincingly, almost if it wasn't for your hesitating start.

"I don't know . . . maybe bot fighting?" He switches the television on and the CCTV footage last night played on.

It was showing how you jumped over the fences with ease and snuck into your room without making one peep. The screen went blank, as well as your mind. You hung your head down, not in shame but irritated that you got caught.

I forgot about the cameras! Darn them! You thought annoyingly.

Patrick sets the remote down and knelt before you. You presumed he was going to scream at you or maybe scold you for your reckless antics, like he always does but instead, you are startled by his arms wrapping around you and pulling you into an embrace.

Your mind went hazy and your vision blurred from the tears collecting at the corners of your eyes. You never let a tear escape. You promised yourself not cry anymore, not after your parents' funeral.

"I know it's hard losing your parents, believe me, I know that feeling . . . I promised your Dad to keep you safe and I can't do that if you keep putting yourself in danger. Just stop this bot fighting business, please. We have enough money to live, you don't have to go to every single bot fight to earn money. Why do you want to keep putting your life at risk?" Patrick ventures, his voice cracking.

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