Alice had come to Korea to dance (at least in her point of view), not to become tangled with a famous pop star, unable to do the proper sexy look. Now, she needs to find a way to overcome major cultural differences, run-off-the mill crazed ELFS, her cracked cousin, her easily angered/Korean-obsessed brother, his traditional parents to finally marry the Korean man of her father dreams (which was the reason she had been dispatched to Korea in the first place, anyways) and (of course) to protect her precious pumps.


He's crazy.

My father is completely, without a doubt, totally deranged.

Which father in their RIGHT MIND would send his daughter to Korea to CATCH HERSELF A HUSBAND?

I mean, even if we could ignore the fact that I do have a life here in Brazil (well, sort of, if you count spending most of your day at home studying for the BAR exams as having a life) how does one goes about catching herself a husband anyway?

Should I just go stand in the middle of a busy street in Seoul, throw away a handkerchief and marry the first gentleman who picks it up instead of stepping on it?

I don't even own a handkerchief!

Dad is still staring at me, wriggling his eyebrows. He probably was expecting another reaction – I'm almost tempted to climb the dinner table and do some dance steps in pretend joy just to appease him, but I'm still too shocked to do anything else but stay there with my jaw slacked.

Yep, it isn't a pretty picture.

I desperately look around the table. My mother is calmly eating her roast pork, piling the rice in the left side of the plate. She is acting pretty normal for someone who just heard her only daughter is being sent to Korean to marry some unknown man.

I raise my eyebrows suspiciously at her. She still refuses to look at me. She is putting the sauce in the meat. I notice her hands are shaking a bit. She is hiding something. I have my lip biting, and she has her shaking members. It happens all the time when we are feeling a bit panicky.

Oh my God.

She knew. My own mother knew about father's senseless scheme and wasn't doing anything to stop his madness! I have been betrayed.

By my mother, no less.

That is the kind of pathetic woman I am, one that not only is:

Being dispatched to Korea because I can't get a Brazilian husband;

But one who is also,

Being betrayed by her mother who knew about it and chose not to tell her about this significant change to her life.

I keep on with my glaring, but she still is not looking at me.

Really, mom? You are in the cracked plan to ruin my life and you can't even look at me? Smooth, mom. Real smooth. See if I will give you sponge baths when you are too old to remember that you need to rinse the shampoo twice!

I continue to scowl at the rest of my loving family. If my mother knew, my brothers must have known as well. I'm always the last one to know anything in this house, even when – like in this case – it is about a potentially big change on my life!

Traitors.

Okay. We might not be all that close, but this is just shitty.

Very shitty.

I will never speak to any of them again in my entire life!

And I will throw out the freaking video game that I was saving to give Ricardo for his birthday. See if I don't give it to our neighbor, that gross kid who is always picking his nose – Ha! Think if that, dear brother, when he is saving Zelda and you are here dreaming about skipping around wearing that ugly green outfit. See if I care.

Humpf.

It will serve you right. If I had had the time to buy presents for my other brother I wouldn't give him either, but since I haven't had time and/or money for such endeavors I will just have to think of a plan to complete my total revenge…

I had the perfect strategy planned on my head (it involved spending all the hot water and spilling salt on their food for a week), when Miguel sprung suddenly from his chair at the other end of the table, pointing a finger to my father.

"What the fuck is this?"

Okay, maybe he didn't know.

I still have my suspicions about Ricardo, but Miguel can have his gift - I mean, when I save enough money to buy one.

I'm so glad that someone is standing up for me in this family that I almost clap. But then he keeps talking, "You know I always wanted to go! What is so special about her that she gets to go?"

Gee, thanks dear older brother. I'm so glad to see that you care for me this much. I open my mouth to say exactly what I think about what he is saying (Come on! I agree that I shouldn't go to Korea, but do you really need to say that I am such a worthless creature?), but then I notice that he is quite red.

Uh-oh.

We are very close to dealing with Miguel's full-blown rage here.

It is a very dangerous thing.

I see Ricardo grabbing the knives and any other utensils that can do permanent damage, and try to catch his eye and inconspicuously point to the door with my head – all thoughts of my anger forgotten on the face of Miguel's bigger and much more dangerous one (even if Ricardo ignores the clause that sibling must stick together, I don't, at least not on this dire circumstances), when mother clears her throat.

And just like that, Miguel deflates like magic.

One day I want to be just like my mother. So cool.

I mean, not about the conscious decision of betraying my child and sending her alone to Korea to marry some unknown man that is acceptable to my husband just because he does have an epicanthal fold, but yeah.

(By the way, father, I do have an epicanthal fold, too. It is plenty enough for me. I will make certain to pass along to your grandchildren - pinky swear. We will still keep the beautiful epicanthal fold on our family even if I don't marry a Korean male.)

When my father was certain Miguel was calm – well, as calm as he was going to get – he kept talking while smiling at me, "Yes, Alice. Korea. I know you always wanted to go and wouldn't this be just a perfect opportunity to meet someone?"

Oh, dad. Dear, delusional dad. Where does he come up with stuff like this?

Me wanting to go to Korea?

Spending 25 hours on an airplane?

I'm afraid of flying, dad.

"Dad, I never really thought about going to Korea. And you know I'm afraid of airplanes." I chose to leave the part about not wanting a husband out for now. With my dad you had to pick your arguments on a certain order, the most important for last.

"Nonsense, you were never scared of flying. Don't try to make stuff up now, Alice."

Make stuff up?

I thought we had established my extreme dislike of flying that time when I was a child and we went to Disney, dad.

Remember how I refused to sit on my spot on the plane and you had to hold me for eight hours straight while I cried like a banshee, until finally the woman on the other seat offered you an anxiety drug to put on my bottle and you mumbled 'Lady, don't tempt me'?

Does this memory rings any bells for you?

"What exactly I'm supposed to do in Korea? How I'm going to support myself?" Ha! Come up with a solution to that, dad.

He flapped his hands around as if the matter of my survival wasn't such a big deal, "I talked to your uncle Jae Haa and he is very happy to receive you in his home and your aunt was very excited to have you work on the dance school she manages."

How long exactly has my father been planning this?

And, wasn't aunt's Se Na dance school for elderly people? Did my dad expect me to teach the salsa to a bunch of old woman? I start to imagine trying to teach octogenarians to do the booty circle – I give myself the shivers.

Did anyone considered that?

I was opening my mouth to make that point, when my mother quickly cut in, "Of course you are going to teach something other than the Latin rhythms."

Of course.

I'm sorry for thinking that I would be actually be able to teach the style of dance that I had a diploma in, how silly of me. Now, even If I stuck with tap dance or whatever, how was that supposed to work?

"And the BAR exam?" I asked triumphantly. Mom and dad were the ones that wanted me to graduate from Law School so that I could keep on living the way I'm used to (let's be real, dance teachers don't make all that much money in Brazil), so they would never let me go gallivanting around the world instead of staying home studying like the dutiful student that I am (sometimes).

At that my father appeared conflicted as I knew he would.

Education was something very important for him.

Once he sent me to school with a raging fever. I felt so bad that the school's nurse had to take me to the hospital, where I was scolded by the doctor, who said that I should have stayed home resting. When I finally got home, heavily dazed by the medicines, and told my father what had happened, he simply said 'Yes, it is unfortunate. But how could you have known that you would be feeling so bad if you hadn't gone? School is not something you can miss whenever you want'.

My mother said it was because he was Korean. Everything with my father could be summed up in this one sentence, 'I know it is different from how we do things in Brazil, Alice, but give your father a break, darling, he is Korean, after all'.

(Look where all the breaks I gave my father over the years led me to.)

To my surprise it was my mom who answered, "It is a good thing to take a time to oneself sometimes. Besides, it will be your third try, maybe this period will help you to relax to the BAR exams next year."

Great, mom.

Now, not only you are ruining my life but are also reminding me that I am a failure at the study of Law in just one sentence. Forget what I said about wanting to be like you.

My father was nodding wholeheartedly, "Exactly, Alice. You will recharge and it will be wonderful for you to learn a little more about Korean culture, after all is your culture, too."

Miguel snapped his head and was preparing to shout again, but my mother glared at him and he went back to sulking.

Poor Miguel. He was the one that always wanted to go to Korea.

That boy loved everything about Asian culture, from their music to their food – he even drank that terrible seaweed soup that dad insisted on making on our birthdays, while the rest of us just spilled it down the kitchen drain when his back was turned.

He was the one who went gladly to our Korean classes, while Ricardo and I had to be dragged there by our desperate nanny and he is the only one of us who can actually claim to speak Korean fluently.

(My Korean is somewhere between I-can-ask-for-a-glass-of-water-but-I'm-lost-when-i t-cames-to-actual-food and I-can't-read-those-damn-symbols.)

So it was no surprise that he was mad that I get to go to Korea and he didn't. I nearly suggested that before marrying me, dad should send Miguel to catch himself a Korean bride – which, to be frank, I thought he would do pretty happily. And maybe afterwards he could send Ricardo (who is only fifteen so I figure that would buy me some time) and then I might be ready to go myself.

"Now, since everyone is done, I'm hoping you boys could do the dishes while I have a little talk with Alice", mom said while looking pointedly at Miguel and Ricardo. The latter left the table promptly whistling the theme song from The Big Bang Theory (he is such a nerd!), while Miguel went very slowly, staring first at mother, than at me, before finally walking away angrily to the kitchen.

My father winked at me and joined my brothers, his arms full of dirty dishes, while mom changed seats so that she could sit at my side and hold my hand.

Oh, joy.

Now we get to have a heart to heart after she betrayed me on the worst way ever. Well, I would not open my mouth. No sir, let her talk her ears off by herself. Then I would argue like the mature adult that I was, displaying all the arguments that showed how it was a terrible idea for me to go to Korea (really, there were a lot of them) and she would take me seriously.

Naturally, my steadfastness lasted for about two minutes – she looked at me with her huge, sparkling hazel eyes and I cracked.

"Why?" And to my horror I could feel the prickling of tears beneath my eyelids. Do I have to cry now? What had happened to my mature-side?

I hate PMS.

My mom sighs and tweaks my nose, which is so surprising that I am actually able to control my almost-crying fit, "I did it for you, dummy. I know the hard time you have had with the BAR exam, well with Law ."

She isn't lying there.

It wasn't that I didn't like to study Law – I find it interesting sometimes. It is just… It is not my passion, no matter how much my mom and dad (and most times me too) wish it was.

I like dancing – no, not like – I adore dancing. Especially the Latin dances. It is just my luck that what I really love to do it is not enough to allow me to make a decent chunk of money to live the way I would like.

So when faced with the sad reality of that fact, I followed my mother steps and went to Law School. It was a lot of work – there were times I actually thought that I would not graduate, mainly because I had not given up on my dancing – but in the end I did.

Now, the only thing I'm lacking is to pass on the BAR exam and truly became a lawyer, again not my first choice in what I would like to be doing, but not my last either (and that had to count for something).

But the BAR exam is hard.

I tried twice already unsuccessfully and I swear that my brain is ready to burst. I don't think I can store any more knowledge in there – it will explode for sure.

So, yes, maybe a break is not such a bad idea, but does it need to be in Korea?

And where does a husband fit in this scenario?

"But why Korea? And why a Korean husband, mom? Surely I can take a break right here at home."

"Alice, your father is… well, Korean." Mom shrugged (as if after all of these years I hadn't noticed). "If I had suggested that you take a break, that wouldn't go well with him. But – almost by miracle – he had this idea of sending you to Korea after seeing you doing the fan dance…"

"The fan dance?" I interrupted her abruptly, while trying to grasp this ridiculous logic. She gave me a little glare, but nodded. "So you are saying that dad thought I should marry a Korean man because I learned to dance the fan dance that granny used to do?"

This was the most preposterous thing I have ever heard.

So just because my grandmother (who I had never even met) danced the freaking thing on every festival at her tiny Korean village and I had attempted to do it because dad was always remembering and getting sentimental about it, I had to marry a Korean man?

If I had known then that the dance would get me in so much trouble I would never have attempted it. I would have shown my appreciation to my father in a different way, maybe with a very nice homemade card.

But no, I had had the brilliant idea to learn the real fan dance and had acquired a huge headache, because not only I disliked that dance with a passion, I:

Am not even good at the freaking dance! On the YouTube videos, the women look like water nymphs, they are so calm and graceful – and I have a very difficult time trying not to shake my booty (too long dancing Latin rhythms does that to a person), and let me tell you: booty shaking has no place on the fan dance.

I – to my eternal shame – had to practice, not one, not two, not three, but four months before I could show to my family that blasted dance, and even then I'm pretty sure I screwed it badly. I mean, you are not supposed to drop the fan in the middle of the dance, for Christ's sake!

Granny's faded old hanbok didn't fit me, so after having developed a severe case of allergies (it had been kept on a box for God knew how long) I had to spend fifty bucks so a tailor could properly adjust the thing to fit my boobs (Granny didn't have breasts! How she breastfed dad and uncle Jae Haa I will never know) and fifty more to send it to the dry cleaner!

So not only that terrible dance wasted four months of my life and made me one hundred reais shorter but it was the reason my father had decided that I would make a very proper Korean daughter-in-law and should not be wasted on a Brazilian male!

I think I growled a little, but mom was quick to hush me. That woman does know how to nip tantrums at the bud, no one can deny, "As I was saying, after you father came with that idea it occurred to me that he had a point. No, don't look at me like that. Not about the wedding, dear – but about taking a break. You could relax, meet another country and spend some time doing what you love. What more can we ask?"

It did make sense when she put like that. But I needed to be sure, "So, I don't really need to marry a Korean man, right?"

She laughed. She actually laughed!

"Of course not! Just don't tell your father that. He is Korean and has strange notions, so let's just pretend for his benefice. You go, have a marvelous time and if you find a Korean man worth your while, why not date him? But mainly relax, my baby."

Did I mention how much I love my mom?

She is the most amazing and caring person in this entire world – probably the smartest, too. I just love how she deals with my dad – one tiny lie and everyone is happy.

Really, going to Korea is not so bad. Is like mom said, I will be taking a break, travelling to new places and dancing (hopefully at some other place than aunt's Se Na dance school)! What more could I ask, as she so intelligently put?

"How about the plane ride? You know I'm afraid of planes."

"I can't do much about that." Mom said shaking her head. "But we can go to a doctor and ask him to prescribe you a bottle of something. Now it is your choice, Alice. Do you want to go?"

YES! How could I not – just thinking about not having to look at those awful Law books again I would go anywhere, it is just a shame that it takes 25 hours to get there on a plane.

"Maybe we can ask him to give me two bottles of that something?"

Mom laughed again but I was quite serious. If was going to go on an airplane alone, I better be heavily drugged - hopefully high on something that would allow me to sleep during the complete journey.

Then another thought entered my head.

"And the boys?"

"Well, Ricardo won't mind at all, Alice. He only cares about his video games and his new girlfriend, I bet that even if we offered he would have declined." But we both knew that Ricardo was not the problem in this equation. "And Miguel… Miguel has to wait his turn. A ticket to Korea is anything but cheap."

Now I was guilty. Miguel should go instead of me. Forget my break – poor Miguel has probably been dreaming about this since the first time we learned that 'appa' meant father and ran home screaming it at the top of our lungs to make dad a surprise just to discovered that father was laying down with a terrible headache – and that our neighbor didn't appreciate having three screaming kids near his house.

"Maybe you should send Miguel first. I could wait and he would be happy."

Mom smiled and hugged me, "You are a good sister to both of them. Don't worry about your brother. Your father and I are saving money for his ticket too, I just think you should go first. Besides, he can't possibly drop his medical residency now. By the time he finishes we will have all the cash we need and then he can go too. It is just seven more months. He can wait."

And that was that.

Later that month I was heavily packed and heavily drugged on prescribed medicine (just like I wished) and sleeping while my airplane was flying to distant Korea.

If knew that in last than 30 hours I would be in a police station while the prisoners got a good look at my underwear (and not even my sexy and adult one, but the pink one with the unicorns!) I would have definitely asked Dr. José for more drugs.


Please, being this is my first published story here, I would love to know what you guys think. I will be waiting for your reviews. ^^

This story is also published in AsianFanfics, where my pen name is Dramageek.