Hi betches. It's me, Kim. I mean Callie. Henceforth, I shall be known as Callie Hartman-Lee; Korean-American model, socialite, and most definitely prettier than you. Don't take it personal, but

    Ok so it occurred to be that I am not actually a model or socialite, so I b̶r̶i̶b̶e̶d̶ convinced my photoshop savvy cousin to create pictures of me modeling for Korean beauty products, and on the covers of magazines. I also started an Instagram account for Callie, and I have already amassed four thousand followers in two days! A picture of my boba tea got five hundred likes, while a selfie got 1500 (!!!). I am extremely pleased with Callie's Instagram success, because when I get more followers I can shoutout my llama photography page and hopefully get it up to at least 15 followers.

    I definitely could be a real model though. Wherever I go, I get looks of awe from people instead of the usual apathy or disgust. I enjoyed the attention at first, but honestly now it's kind of annoying. Like ok, I get it, I'm the most magnificent creature to ever grace this laundromat. I can't help being so attractive, and it's definitely not my fault your man is staring at my FUCKING AWESOME legs.

    In fact, I was approached by a talent scout who wanted me to audition for a new drama, and I totally would have taken him up on it if my Korean language skills were above the third grade level. My life is actually so hard- everywhere I go, people approach me and want my picture taken with them. Worst of all, none of them are cute boys.

I leave Korea tomorrow, and while I have immensely enjoyed my time here, I must return to my humble abode where I will DESTROY THOSE WHO HAVE HURT ME. Ok ok I'm cool, I'm cool, death breaths, Callie Uh... deep breaths, Callie.

Thinking about Dillon Austin Colt actually hurts. Even though he is continents away, he seems close by because I stalk him on Instagram. Thank goodness for public accounts, or I would never have known that a random rap lyric really tied into a picture of his car. Damn him and his cuteness. How dare he look so cute while taking a selfie. How dare he look so cute in his soccer uniform. I want to not care but honestly

There was a time when I would have given anything for him. I used to think he was the sun to my moon, the yin to my yang, the Mc to my Donald's, and the chopstick to my other chopstick. But those days, those days of blindness and innocence, are now behind me. There is no Kim, only Callie. Callie is well prepared to play the game of life, and will do everything in her power to win. I am ready to manipulate whoever I need in order to take my revenge against Wesley High School. Dillon Austin Colt will pay for his douchebaggery.
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The plane ride back to the US was a life changing experience, as I had to get used to having enough horizontal room in an airplane seat. Sweet. And things only got better when I arrived. The sun was shining, birds were chirping, and Callie Hartman-Lee's Instagram account was now up to 12k followers.

    My parents and Jemma were waiting to pick me up, and I ran up to them, excited to see them after so long. I expected squeals, hugs, and kisses but instead got nervous looks from all three of them.

    "Miss are you looking for someone?" Asked my mom.

    "Eomma! It's me!"

    It took a while for it to register, but then she squealed with pleasure and hugged me. My father looked on with approval, nodding.

    "Wow they actually made you beautiful!" He said, sounding a little surprised. Thanks appa.

Jemma was staring at me, her brown eyes wide with shock. "Kim? Is that really you?"

"What do you think?" I asked proudly, smoothing my new miniskirt.

She leaped forward and hugged me tightly, saying "I missed you so much. Wesley was even more unbearable without my best friend."

"Fear no more, dear Jemma. Wesley will never be the same again."
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A/N: Actually I don't have anything to say. Hi I guess?