born to a chinese-american family belonging to the middle class, lala grew in the simplest of households wrapped by the haunting thought that shattered her very idea of love. at the age of five, she witnessed her mother take in numerous beatings from her own father's pair of hands. her orbs watched the idea of her own king crumble into ash, and the last thing she saw was her mom bathing in her own pool of blood, breathing so desperately as she willed herself to live. 

that was the last day she saw her angel. 

cheating was the case, according to her father. and at that moment, all hell broke loose and he wasn't able to control himself. grateful to the numerous connections he had, lala's father was able to reframe the story as murder. with that sense of redemption came along a newfound hope of restarting their lives, and fate brought them in Seoul. 

with their transfer came along her hopes of rebuilding her father's image, but the violence that she witnessed firsthand was only amplified by the sheer fact of her as the lone child of the family. it felt as though his fingers constantly circled around her neck, dragging her through the coarse texture of gravel as she fulfilled his unrealistic expectations of her. 

number two wasn't an option. 
no romantic relationships were allowed. 
drinking was out of the question. 
hobbies needed to be worth investing for. 

bottom line was: she needed to be clean and pure, unlike her mother. 

little did her father know, lala was tainted in many areas that could not be counted by ten fingers alone. shaped by her terrifying thoughts oozing through the spheres of her trauma, the woman currently thrives in switching between her father's ideal daughter to her authentic self. 

pushing that desire to further put herself out there and challenge her boundaries, lala found herself in komobi with the littlest of expectations in finding true love. 

it's all game, at least life was to her so far. 

perhaps someday i'll crawl back home, beaten, defeated. but not as long as i can make stories out of my own heartbreak, beauty out of sorrow.