"Welcome, son."

"Father."

We stare at each other for a few seconds, the awkwardness of the years floating between us, but I don't let it get me down. I keep my nose high and he seems to notice, because a smirk settles on his lips, making it hard for me not to smack it off his face. I've almost forgotten how much he can drive someone up the wall, and only with one glance.

"I knew you'd come," he says knowingly, kind of proud of himself as if I'd complied with his orders.

"Don't flatter yourself." I retort, an irritated look plastering on his face. "I didn't come because you wanted me to."

He chuckles for a second, but it's more of a sarcastic laugh that covers up his anger than an amused one. I can read from his eyes that he is trying to hold back. He never hit me or raised his hand, but as a kid, I was still afraid he would. There is always a first time for everything. But those days are over, he is welcome to try to raise his hand now.

His eyes travel down my body from top to bottom and he looks at me like he's analyzing me. "Look at you. You've become a man."

My nose flares in irritation. "I was more of a man than you'll ever be."

"Still the same smart tongue talking back. I see." he says, his eyebrows creasing together.

"I didn't come here for this. Say what you have to say," I huff.

Honestly, what's all this about? I didn't drive all the way out here to make small talk about old times. If he thinks he can have a casual conversation with me, he's sorely mistaken. I've never liked talking to him, I've always had a hard time finding something to say, that's why our exchanges usually consisted of the bare minimum. I don't even remember ever talking to him about myself or any morals. He is my father but he didn't teach me anything except trust issues.

"I didn't call you here to disrespect me under my roof either."

"You talk about respect?" I ask mockingly. "I'll tell you this. You don't expect respect, you earn it. Name one thing I should respect you for?"

This conversation is turning in the direction of an argument faster than I expected it to. I knew long before I left for Busan that it would eventually come to blows. I've spent long enough in this house, seen and experienced enough, to know what drives my father nuts.

"I'm your father, that is reason enough for you to respect me."

"Just because you fathered me doesn't mean you're my father!" I sneer, incredibly angry that after everything he's done to me he's still throwing the father card in front of me. "It takes a lot more to be a father. I had one who appreciated me more than you ever could."

I wish Uncle Haeseong was here now to support me emotionally. I miss him so much sometimes that I sit at his grave for hours telling him everything about my everyday life. I know it might be crazy, but I still can't accept that fate took him from me. I wish he was alive.

When he told me about his illness, it hit me hard. I couldn't concentrate on work for days. I spent the last few months of his time always worrying if it would be the last day. Every day I got up frightened if he wasn't already awake, running to his room to check on him. He gave me a second chance in life, got me on my feet, pulled me out of the hole, and was by my side on my darkest days. But now I'm on my own, standing here in front of my father.

"I am your father, Jungkook. I do love you," he says, reaching out to touch me, but I pull my arm back so quickly that he doesn't see it coming. My eyes fill with unwanted tears that threaten to roll down and it takes all my strength to bite them back.

I always expected those words, hoped I could hear them someday. But I wanted them to be sincere. I wanted them to come from the bottom of his heart. I wanted him to tell me he loved me after a fun day where we fixed my bicycle together or I told him about my stupid crush in middle school. I wanted him to cheer me up and tell me that he believes in me, that I can do anything and that it's okay when I got a bad grade in school.

But now as I look into his eyes, I realize that those words are nothing but lies. He only says them to make me feel bad. He thinks with guilt he can make me come back just to use me again like a puppet for his dirty works. And it hurts me so much, a heavy stone stuck in my throat as I look at him in disbelief.

"You don't love me," I counter, sure that I've seen through him. "You only love the benefits my existence has brought you."

"What more do you want me to do? I've given you everything, yet you're so ungrateful!" he raises his voice. My tears disappear as quickly as they came when my ears catch these words.

Did I expect too much from him? Isn't it the bare minimum to give me a roof over my head and a meal on the table? Everything he has done for me consists only of the essential needs of a human being and yet he claims to have given me everything. I see our definitions of being a father seem to be so different that they will never meet in one point. They are like two parallel straight lines that have no intersection of agreement.

"Everything?" I spit. "Then list what you've done for me! Come on, I'm waiting? Oh, that's right you are Mr. Absolute Minimum."

I just shake my head as he stares at me without uttering a word. He has no answer to my question. The room is silent, a silence you could cut with a knife or listen to a pin drop as we look at each other. I take a few steps toward his desk, my eyes roaming over the sheets for a brief moment before I turn to him and lean the back of my thighs against the wooden surface, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

I wish I could tell him everything that's on the tip of my tongue, dying to be freed, but I know damn well it won't do any good. It will feel like I'm talking to a wall, my words will go in from one ear and back out from the other. I've really tried to stay calm, but the suppressed emotions of the past are still lurking around me. Call me vindictive, but it's something I'll never forget.

All I wanted was just a normal family, a normal life. The other kids in my school were always picked up by their fathers or bragged about how their dad was like a best friend and protector to them. Meanwhile, I smiled like crazy when my dad gave me just a little smile as he passed by in the hallway.

I never wanted to read much into it because I always thought my father was just working harder for us, but he was always working for himself. He loved money and power and probably still does or he wouldn't have called me here. Loves it so much so that he didn't care if he had to use illegal methods to get where he is now. I don't need closure and an answer for all my questions anymore, because his silence tells more than he could with words. His eyes are empty as if everything I have said to him so far had no effect.

If he had cared about me, if I had meant something to him, he would have asked first how I was doing, what I had been doing all those years alone.

After what feels like an eternity, he sighs and speaks up. "It looks like you won't be coming back."

I scoff, shaking my head. I knew it.

"Bold of you to still assume I would come back after everything."

"I see," he says, pressing his lips into a line as he walks around his desk and starts gathering the scattered papers on it. My eyes follow his every move, falling on one specific document before he quickly grabs it. "I have a deal for you."

"What kind of deal?" I ask, curious as to what he's up to now. I know there can't be anything good behind it, and I know he's going to push it on me somehow.

"Our company—"

"Your company." I correct before he has a chance to begin.

"Whatever. Your cousin managed to push the company close to bankruptcy because he's an idiot. However, I have found a sponsor who is willing to help us. He just has one condition." he explains.

I hate conditions.

"You know him, too. Mr. Yang. He trusts you, knows you from childhood, and is aware of how hardworking and trustworthy you are." he continues, tucking the sheets he's picked up into a folder. "He wants to make sure he doesn't invest in anything that could end up hurting his company, so he wants to see you as the new follow-up CEO."

"No," I reply without thinking. What is he thinking?

"Will you let me finish?" he retorts and I roll my eyes in response. "I knew you were going to say no, so I've already found someone who will take over one day. He's smart and trustworthy, I know he won't let the company go down the drain. However, there is a business meeting next month, Mr. Yang wants to see you there. You just need to come to the party so he will think you are back from abroad and are going to take your rightful position. I will take care of the rest."

I look at him dumbfounded, my eyebrows creased together. That's how low a person can fall just for material possessions, considering fooling a person so he can achieve whatever he wants. It disgusts me that I carry the same last name.

"Your whole life is based on lies, isn't it?" I shake my head in disbelief and he just shrugs. "And what makes you think I'll accept to come? Where's the deal?"

"The deal is that you attend this party and I'll leave you alone in return."

I laugh hysterically right in his face. "Wow, such a good deal." I clap my hands. "You will leave me alone even without me showing up there."

"Jungkook, you know I always get what I want. Don't make me do it any other way," he threatens, his gaze serious and challenging. I know he can consider all ways. What can't a man do who has burned down my workshop.

"As if it's not enough that you took my workshop. I don't own anything else that you could destroy," I say confidently.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his face expressionless and hard. I tilt my head, trying to understand what he's getting at, and when it hits me, my eyes widen.

My fist shoots up, the other hand grabbing him by the collar and pulling him across the table. His upper body leans over the surface of the dark wooden furniture as he stares directly into my eyes. My fist lingers right next to his face, ready to be blown. A tremor overcomes my body from pure adrenaline and rage. My fingers dig into my palm and I'm sure they will leave their mark there.

I bite my lip as my hands shake like crazy. I say nothing, my eyes just shooting daggers into his. I don't want to do anything but let him taste my fist for his dirty innuendos.

It makes me angry that he doesn't show even a little bit of weakness or fear. He didn't flinch when I grabbed him, just waiting for my fist to collide with his face. It makes me angry because it just shows that despite everything, I am the weaker one and it makes me jealous in a way that no matter what happens and who is facing him, he can always stand his ground. It makes me feel small and powerless.

"You'll stay away from her!" I growl anyway, my protective side taking over my mind. "If I see you or any of your men near her you're a dead man!"

He grabs my hand by his collar and slaps it back, standing up straight and straightening his shirt. "So we have a deal then?"

My nose flares, too prideful to agree as I look at him with killing eyes. I hate his guts for even daring to think about Elaine. It makes me go berserk to think that he could have stalked her, that he could sneak up on her, and I certainly don't want to think of anything worse. I will make him pay for all this, my dignity is riding on this now.

I raise my index finger, pointing in his direction. "If she sheds any more tears because of you," I throw the pen holder against the wall. "I'll make sure to drown you in them with my own hands! Even if it's just a single teardrop."

I make my way to the door with angry steps and when I turn to look him in the disgusting face one more time, he just stands there a mocking and victorious smirk present on his lips. It takes everything in me not to take a run at him and beat him up until he begs me to stop. But I bite my tongue and slam the door shut behind me.

I take a deep breath, oxygen rushing to my brain, and I don't realize until now that I've been holding my breath the whole time to calm myself down. My head feels dizzy, it's like my surroundings are spinning. I grab the railing from which you can look down into the living room as a headache rings in my ears.

I massage my temple with one hand while keeping my balance with the other. My eyes close as the rage in my system consumes my entire body and makes it hard to breathe properly. My father has once again managed to drive me up the wall without really trying hard. It's sad that he gives everything he has to make me hate him a little more every day.

Hate is a strong word. That's what Uncle Haeseong always told me and always motivated me to look for other ways to settle a dispute with a person. For him, violence was never a solution, but after this conversation just now, I realize how my aggression issues are surfacing again. My father deserves nothing from me. Neither my hate nor my love.

I lean on the railing with both arms, taking my face in my hands. I rub my hands over my face in frustration. I want to leave this house as soon as possible and not breathe the same air as him for much longer, everything inside this house is causing me more pain. Pushing myself off the railing, I get ready to make my way back home. I turn around, but a person standing at the end of the stairs makes me stop in my tracks.

"Jungkook?" she asks in a low voice. Her tired eyes widen as mine sadden and my breath hitches although my heart races. I feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears as I look into her tear-filled eyes.

"Mom."

She stumbles forward, her legs unable to support her body before I take a step forward to catch her so she doesn't fall, but my feet are glued to the ground and I can't close the small space between us. My arm is outstretched but it falls back, swinging at my side as her free hand jumps up and she clasps her mouth shut, muffling her sobs.

My eyes well up with tears and I wince as the empty coffee cup falls from her hand, shattering into a thousand pieces on the floor, just like my heart. She shakes her head, probably thinking she's just hallucinating and that I'm not real. I want to run to her, wrap her in my arms, tell her how much I missed her, but I'm too ashamed.

Shame makes me squeeze my eyes shut, thinking about the past years I left her alone in this prison. I've been so focused on my father these past few weeks that I haven't thought about her at all, blinded by my anger and grief. How much she must hate me for just leaving like that? How many times she must have cried, my pictures in her hand as she lay down on my bed to at least have something of me with her?

There was not a day after I left that I did not think of her. I wanted to have her near me, I wanted to cry in her arms but the mistaken joy of finally being away from this nightmare took that away. Missing her wasn't big enough to bring me back. I had plans. I wanted to build a stable life and maybe someday if she would accept it too, bring her to me. But things didn't turn out the way I wanted.

I couldn't have taken responsibility for her after I ended up on the street. I couldn't have dragged her into the dark side of the world without having a guarantee of being alive for the next day.

But now that she's standing in front of me, all the emotions are coursing through my entire body, and the more she sobs the more it breaks my heart. Tears flow uncontrollably down both of our cheeks as she takes many small steps over the broken coffee cup in my direction. My eyes close with the burning tears.

She is still as beautiful as she was five years ago, but the grief and despair have left deep scars at the edges of her eyes and silver strands adorning her silky brown hair. Her once sparkling eyes are now similar to those of a porcelain doll, with no real joy. My father, with the passing years, robbed more and more of my mother's zest for life, I could witness it every day. I always felt weak because I could never protect her, could not take away the pain of an unhappy marriage.

I hear her breath coming closer, the sobbing not stopping and when she stands in front of me and I feel her breath on my neck, I open my eyes again. She searches my eyes, checks my whole face. Her eyes skip all over my body, probably with the intention of memorizing everything that has changed over the years.

Her hand slowly lifts and I bite my lower lip to stop it from trembling, but instead, my chin quivers as her hand gets closer and closer to my face. I can feel the nervousness in her slow movements and when her delicate, cold fingers make contact with my hot cheek, a loud sob escapes her pale lips. She cups my face, her eyes jumping back and forth between mine and her legs finally give up their power.

She slowly slides to the ground so I reach for her waist to keep her from colliding with the floor and I drop to my knees with her. Her arms jump around my neck and she lets all her emotions run free, crying into the crook of my neck as her tears roll down my skin. We both hold each other, a relieving feeling hovering over us as I feel her warmth after such a long time.

And we both cry, kneeling together on the floor to pour out the pain of the lost years.

__________________________

Two o'clock at night displays the dashboard of my car as I park back in front of Elaine's apartment. The drive back took longer than normal because I had to make a few stops due to my blurred vision.

I was so overwhelmed with emotions that I couldn't stop my tears. I spent more hours in Busan with my mom apologizing for the wasted years we didn't spend together. We decided to sit outside in a cafe instead of spending time in that dreadful cold house.

It was good to be able to talk to her again and it made me realize how much I actually missed her. I was feeling homesick only for her, but when she was standing in front of me I really understood what a gift it is to have your mother with you. Her warmth is one that is not easily found. It is a different feeling and whether you are a man or a woman, young or old, you will always remain a child to your mother and long for her presence.

She was a little disappointed that I wasn't going to stay and only came for a few hours, but I could see from her smile that that was enough for her. She must have been incredibly worried about me, probably not sleeping for days until she eventually got used to my absence. But from now on, I will not leave her anymore. She can come to visit me whenever she wants.

I also told her about Elaine. No details, but she knows there is someone special for me.

I get out of the car and make my way to the entrance with tired steps. The drive and the chaotic emotions have made my eyes tired and I can think of nothing but lying in Elaine's arms and letting her comfort overwhelm me. Besides my mother, she is the only woman with whom I have felt the same warmth and ease. I am sure my mother would love her.

Putting the keys in the keyhole, I unlock the door. My eyes try to find their way in the darkness and I bump into a sideboard in the process of finding the light switch. Successful in turning on the light, I am met with faint noises and when I head in the direction of the living room I find Elaine asleep on the sofa. The TV is still on and a cheap commercial trying to sell a universal grater is playing. Elaine is sitting with her head tilted in an uncomfortable position, legs spread, and the remote in her hand.

I smile and turn on a small reading lamp on the side table before turning off the full-sized light so her eyes don't hurt when I wake her. She must have waited up all night for me, even though I told her on the phone that I'd probably be late and that she shouldn't wait. It makes me feel appreciated that someone is waiting for me at home until I get back safely.

"Baby. Elaine." I whisper carefully so she won't be startled while I shake her lightly by the arm. I would carry her to the bedroom, but my own tiredness keeps me heavy on my feet myself. She groans lightly, her lips smacking. "Wake up, baby."

"Hmm? What? It's only 19.99 and it's good quality," she mumbles sleepily, her eyes still closed. I giggle softly at her cuteness. She always manages to make me laugh with even the smallest things.

"I'm back. Let's go to bed." I shake her a little more and finally manage to get her to open her eyes. She looks around sweetly to take in her surroundings until her eyes meet mine and she smiles lazily.

It takes her a few minutes to come to her senses completely, which is why I sit down next to her on the sofa for a short while. I see on the corner of my eye how she rubs her face to banish the sleepiness from her body while I play with my fingers and let the whole day play before my eyes. The next thing I feel is her hand wrapping around mine, letting me look into her eyes. She smiles comfortingly.

"Are you okay?" she asks softly, her voice light as a feather tickling my skin. This question triggers emotions in me again and my vision becomes blurred with unshed tears.

"No," I say honestly, moving a little to the side and resting my head on her lap, tightening my arm around her thigh. "I need your cuddles."

"You can have all my cuddles." I hear her smile without looking at her face. She leans down to place a kiss on my temple and I close my eyes at the sensation while she runs her fingers through my hair. It was a rough day and I don't care if I'm like a vulnerable child right now, because next to Elaine, I don't care about anything. I can give free rein to my feelings without her judging me for it.

I don't know how much time passes, but I just lie there, my gaze fixed forward. My head is full of thoughts and everything is jumbled. Seeing my mother again has somewhat extinguished the fire of hatred towards my father, but I'm still conflicted about what will happen next. I'm distraught about whether I should do what my father said. Is it a good idea to attend this business party?

"I ran into my mom," I finally sigh, turning around in her embrace. I am now lying with my face turned towards her, looking up into her eyes. She looks down at me sadly, as if she had already guessed this would happen. Still, she puts her emotions aside and smiles at me, her fingers still stroking through my hair.

"Come," she says, laying down across the couch and calling me next to her. I lie down with her, letting her affection wash over me as she closes me into her embrace and we fall into sleep together.

Hoping everything will turn out better than the last few years.

__________________________

A/N: Thinking about and writing this chapter made me cry a little because it's based on personal experience.

But I hope you still enjoyed this chapter and happy new year to you guys❤️