This is my first highschool romance fluff, so don't expect too much. I don't know when I'll update this story, but I'm planning on writing this without a clue. I guess we'll see how this ends up.

Let's give it a go~~

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The screens were flickering and one by one the information disappeared. People around me were panicking and my hands had become clammy. I cursed and looked at my boarding pass. From Tokyo to Seoul, boarding at 4 AM and seat A22, it said. That was all the information I had, but I had no clue where my gate was. Frustratingly I ran my hand through my hair making a silent prayer, hoping for a good ending.

I could already see myself: a young girl all alone in Tokyo, 10000 kilometers away from home, being stuck at the airport and having to spend a whole day in the dark because of the technical difficulties at the airport. I knew it was a mistake to start this journey in South Korea. It must have been a mistake to make the decision to study abroad for a year.

I believed that the universe had let me know by shutting down the system of the airport.

These thoughts nearly made me hyperventilate and I had to tell myself numerous of times that I should not overreacted. It was just that I was so tired from the flight from New York to Tokyo that I started to imagine things, since the only thing I wanted was sleep.

I rubbed my temples and went to sit on top of my suitcase while people were running around hysterically. Families were shouting at each other because of the sudden stress and babies were crying. I quickly moved to the wall since the staff was running around like crazy trying to reassure travelers and getting the system fixed. Or so I hoped because I didn't want to be here any longer. I was so nervous for everything that was coming, but I told myself to be strong. Impatiently I tapped on my thighs.

The lights had gone out right after the moment the screens went off and people had put on the flashlight on their phones and all those flashlights were surprisingly strong together. I could easily make my way towards the restroom, but there was no one there so I was left in the dark. With a shrieking sound the door opened and I searched my way towards the sink. I opened the tap and splashed some cold water in my face. It immediately helped me recovering from the tiredness that was conquering my body.

Then I suddenly heard a clear voice from the speakers in the restroom.

"Dear travelers," it began, "We are having some technical difficulties, but we assure you that this won't last long. Our staff is doing everything they can to switch the power on as soon as possible. Please stay calm until then and make sure not to run around to prevent other people, and yourself, from injuries."

With a loud peep the intercom stopped. I rested my hands on both sides of the sink and took a deep breath.

I thought about my future class and the host family that was waiting for me in Korea. I was worried if I would make friends in school, though I knew I would probably be popular being "the kid from overseas". Not to mention that I was fluent in Korean, one of my secret skills that would make my life less of a hell the first months. It shouldn't be that difficult to make friends right?

My mother was born and raised in Korea, but she moved to The Netherlands to enter university when she was twenty-one years old. And so did my father, but at the age of twenty. She was his noona; something I have always find adorable since I like older men. The thought of my mother caring for him is just adorable. They finished their studies when they were twenty-five and twenty-four. It only took them 3 months after that to marry and not long after that, they had me. That was eighteen years ago.

My parents raised me bilingual, so I can both speak Korean and English fluently. Since I went to school in The Netherlands majority of my childhood, I picked up Dutch too.

I had spent my childhood in a little village in The Netherlands, which meant I had to cycle half an hour in order to reach my school. I kinda miss that to be honest. Because when I was fifteen years old, my parents decided to move to New York City, the place where my father grew up. At first I hated moving to another city, especially New York because I preferred petite villages instead of megacities. I was more nature than fashion and social media orientated. The fifteen year old me was satisfied with reading a book and baggy clothes. I basically didn't care about my appearance. 

I remember running away from home once I found out that my parents wanted to move to New York City. I cursed, and yelled at them for ripping me away from my friends and putting me some place where I wouldn't feel comfortable. They let me ran away, because they thought I would forgive them eventually. I just needed some time to process it, they thought. However, I never did.

I might have blended in with the city life and started to get interested in fashion and brands, but that never made me forgive them. The fact that they made me do that in the first place still hurts. Our bond never recovered after that. And I refused to try.

That night I ended up at my best friend's house. It was holiday so I asked her mom if I could stay the night and luckily she said yes. There was no way I wanted to return to my parents that moment. The evil creatures they were. My friend and I talked a bit about it, but I asked her not to mention it anymore since I went especially to her to forget about my worries. However she knew me well and told me not to push myself to be strong and that it was ok to cry my eyes out. But the stubborn kid I was refused. 

That night I couldn't sleep and kept staring at the ceiling. My best friend was sleeping next to me and that finally made a tear ran over my cheek. It was easier knowing that she couldn't see it. I c closed my eyes and then felt a thumb wiping it away.

"I know you'd finally cry," she whispered with a caring smile.

I nodded and turned to lay on my belly, putting my face in the pillow. After a while I managed to fall asleep.

I usually did this when she caught me crying, because I was still too proud to admit. Every time it happened I used to look her in the eyes and nod before turning my back to her and ignoring her for a few days. It always went like that, but she didn't seemed to care as she was always ready to be there whenever I knocked on her door again. 

Suddenly the lights go on and I was brought back into reality. I let out a sigh of relief and dried the droplets on my face with the sleeve of my hoodie. With reborn courage I walked out of the restroom towards the huge screens in the middle of departure hall. To my ultimate joy they were working again and I had to suppress a cry. Quickly I looked up my gate and found it at the left upper corner. 

"G5," it said, "10 minutes left to board". I quickly grabbed my suitcase and ran towards the gate which wasn't so far away. Instantly there played a smile on my lips when I saw the plane and I handed my ticket over to the stewardess.

"Have a safe flight," she said.

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Also, are you liking this story or should I delete it? I know a high school romance is kind of a cliché though.

Please don't forget to vote! Love you~

PS: Sorry, I am Dutch so of course I couldn't help myself.