︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Oh, all that I did to try to undo it
All of my pain and all your excuses
I was a kid but I wasn't clueless
(Someone who loves you wouldn't do this)
All of my past, I tried to erase it
But now I see, would I even change it?
Might share a face and share a last name, but
(Someone who loves you wouldn't do this)

-Family Line - Conan Gray-

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.  

"If Mr. and Mrs. Bang are going to be there, that means... he'll be there as well."
I mumbled to myself, frustrated.

When I arrived, the house was as pristine as ever. Polished marble floors, perfectly arranged furniture—it was like stepping into a different world, one that was always in motion but never truly alive.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady the nerves that had begun to tighten in my chest, and made my way inside. Home, I reminded myself. But the word felt foreign, cold, as though it belonged to someone else.

I walked through the halls to the kitchen, hoping to find my mom, but it was empty, save for the chefs moving about with dishes in hand, arranging them meticulously before carrying them out to their destinations. The rhythm of their steps seemed mechanical, a reminder that this place was run by routines, not by warmth.

"Ma'am, your family is waiting for you in the dining room. Please join them," one of the maids said, her voice polite but distant, as if she were speaking to a stranger rather than someone who should belong here.

I nodded, though a part of me resisted the notion of stepping into the dining room. It felt more like a command than an invitation. The tension in my chest tightened, but I forced myself to move.

"Sorry I'm late, I was caught in some traffic," I said, the words coming out more smoothly than I felt. I could already hear the lie in my voice, the rehearsed tone masking the truth—that I had stalled for far too long, aimlessly driving in circles, trying to delay the inevitable. The truth was, I had no desire to face whatever this dinner was going to bring forth.

"Oh, Hana, finally!" Mrs. Bang beamed, her smile wide and insistent. "My, I haven't seen you in so long. What a pretty lady you've become since the last time I saw you."

The words were syrupy sweet, but they felt strangely hollow, like an empty compliment lingering between us, as if she thought that saying things like that would keep me on their side. The last time she had seen me was just a few months before I moved out, so technically, she wasn't exaggerating.

"It's nice to see you too, Mrs. Bang," I said, forcing a smile. "Your skin seems to be glowing. Are you sure you aren't aging backwards?"
The compliment felt almost automatic, a way to fill the silence between us with something that sounded genuine—when, in truth, I was just trying to mask the distance that maybe only I felt.

Mrs. Bang laughed, a high, tinkling sound that seemed to fill the room. "Oh, Hana, you're such a charmer," she said, brushing a hand over her face as if to downplay my comment. 

I nodded, not sure how to respond. Her words hung in the air, but they didn't quite reach me. I had heard it all before—the compliments, the pleasantries, the praise—but it all felt so empty now that I knew it was all a facade, a mask people put up to make things seem easier than they really were.

I settled into a seat in front of Yedam, the seating arrangement as predictable as ever: my father at the far end of the table, my mother at the other, and us—me, Yedam—sandwiched somewhere in the middle.

Yedam glanced up briefly, offering me a tight, almost imperceptible smile, but he didn't say anything. Neither did I.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"Our kids really have grown up into such fine individuals, haven't they?" His father said, his voice smooth as he looked around the table, a satisfied glint in his eyes. He was making it sound like a casual observation.

My mother smiled, a touch too wide, her eyes flicking between Yedam and me.
 "Yes, indeed," she said, her voice sweet but laced with something sharper beneath.
"We've raised them well. They make such a wonderful pair."
She glanced at Yedam with an approving look, then turned back to me, as if she was waiting for me to confirm her words.

"I'm pretty sure Uncle said fine 'individuals'," I said, my tone dry as I glanced at my mother, the word "individuals" lingering in the air like a subtle challenge.

My mother's smile faltered for just a second, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Ah, yes, of course," she said quickly, as if she were brushing off an inconvenience.

The shift in the room was almost imperceptible, but it was enough to make me tense.

Before I could fully process it, Mrs. Bang leaned forward, her voice sharp and inquisitive.
"Hana, are you seeing anyone right now?" She asked, her eyes glimmering with curiosity. "Your mom tells us you don't talk about your love life."

I hesitated, glancing briefly at my mother, whose eyes were fixed on me now, expectant. This was the moment. They were all circling, testing me, pushing me into a corner. And I knew what they wanted to hear. But it was the last thing I wanted to say.

"No," I replied finally, forcing the word out. "Not at the moment." It was technically true, but the truth felt far less important than the unsaid things swirling around the room.

"That's perfect," Mrs. Bang continued, her smile widening. "Why don't you and Yedam go on a couple of dates? I'm sure you both will fit well together."

Her words hung in the air like a command, each syllable carefully placed, and I could feel the pressure mounting in my chest. This was it. They weren't even pretending anymore. It wasn't just about getting me to fall in line—it was about making sure I had no other option.

I forced a smile, though it felt more like a mask than anything genuine.
"Don't you think it's too soon to be thinking about that?" I replied, my voice deliberately casual, trying to sound as if I were just putting the idea off. "I'm busy. I don't have time."

My Mom, however, didn't let it slide.
"Oh, Hana, you're always so busy," she said with a chuckle, but there was a sharpness behind it. "You deserve a little break. And Yedam's a good match. I'm sure you'll both find it enjoyable. Isn't that right, Yedam?"

I didn't even need to glance at Yedam to know how he was reacting—whatever it was, it would only make me more uncomfortable. I forced a polite smile, wiping my face with a tissue, my movements deliberate and composed as I tugged the tablecloth off.

"Excuse me for a moment, please," I said, my voice steady. "Mom and I need to step away."

My mother, a mix of confusion and anger, mirrored my actions. Her expression shifted just as quickly as her frustration flared, and without another word, she followed me to Dad's office.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.  

Once we reached Dad's office, I closed the door behind us with a soft click. The silence in the room felt heavier than ever. My mother stood there, her arms crossed tightly, her gaze fixed on me with a mixture of anger and something else—something I couldn't quite decipher.

"What's going on, Mom?" I asked, my voice softer now, trying to keep the anger from spilling out.

She opened her mouth, but no words came at first. It was as if she was weighing the consequences of everything she wanted to say. Then, finally, her voice broke through the silence.
"Why can't you just listen to me? Why do you have to make everything so difficult?"

I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to shout, to accuse her of everything she had done.
"Don't try to turn this around on me. Just tell me the truth."

She hesitated, her expression shifting as if she were struggling to find the right words.
"What truth do you want from me?"

"I know what you're planning. I know you've been pushing Yedam into every part of my life. Who does that to their own child? I don't want you to choose the person I love, neither do I want him, so why?"

She shook her head, her expression unreadable.
"What you want doesn't matter. This is for your future. Yedam is a good match, he's everything you need—" she stopped herself mid-sentence, clearly trying to find the right words to make it sound like she was doing this out of love, out of concern.

But it wasn't love. Not the kind I needed.

"Why don't you ever listen to me?"
 I asked, my voice breaking slightly, the crack barely noticeable but enough to make her flinch. "I'm not a doll to be dressed up for your convenience. I'm not your little project."

She stared at me for a long moment, her face softening slightly, but only for a second before the familiar mask of control settled back into place.
"I'm trying to help you, Hana. Don't you understand? This is for the good of the family.
You'll understand when you're older."

I clenched my fists at my sides, biting back the words I wanted to scream. The truth was, I didn't know if I would ever understand. And the idea of resigning myself to that life—the life she wanted for me—terrified me.

"Maybe I don't need your version of 'help,'" I said, my words edged with something I couldn't quite name. "Maybe I need you to see me for who I am, not who you want me to be."

She exhaled sharply, exasperated. "You're being difficult on purpose."

"Maybe I'm just being myself," I shot back, my chest tight, the air between us crackling with the weight of everything we had never said to each other. "Maybe I'm tired of pretending."

For a moment, she said nothing. Then, with a sigh, she looked away, her arms uncrossing as if the weight of my words had somehow physically drained her.
"I'm not asking you to pretend," she whispered, her voice softer now, almost vulnerable. "But you have to understand... your father and I, we're just trying to protect you."

I didn't know how to respond to that. The rawness of her tone made me hesitate, made me wonder if there was a part of her that truly did care.

"Protect me from what? I don't need your protection, Mom," I said quietly, my heart thumping in my chest. "I just need you to trust me."

"That's the problem, Hana," my mother said, her voice colder now.
"I can't trust you. You're lucky Yedam even wants you. You should just take what you're given. Don't complain."

My chest tightened, the anger bubbling up despite myself. I couldn't keep it in anymore.
"And all of this—what? It's just a distraction from my real purpose, right? To be your perfect trophy child? Getting good grades, looking the part, making something out of myself? Is that it?"

She laughed bitterly, the sound empty. "There's nothing good in you, anyway. So what do you expect to achieve? What great thing are you going to accomplish?"

I blinked, stunned by the venom in her words. "What... did you just say?"

"Look at you," she snapped, her voice thick with frustration. "Why do you think you're the only one at your age who's still unmarried? Still without a 'serious' relationship?"

I felt the air leave my lungs. "Mom, I'm only 24. I'm still studying. How in the world am I supposed to be married? What is all this even about?"

"Most people your age are already getting married, or at least in a strong, stable relationship. Not like the one you're in. Wasting your time on people we'll never approve of."

I recoiled at her words, the sting of them cutting deep.
"Who says I'm even in a relationship? I've never dated anyone. Ever."

"Don't lie to me, Hana," she hissed, leaning in, her eyes narrowed.
 "Yedam saw you—he told me. You were at the mall shopping with a guy. A guy who picks you up after your lectures every day. What am I supposed to think when I see things like that?"

I froze, the accusation sinking in like a stone.
"Wait—what? You had Yedam spying on me?"

Her gaze didn't falter. "Spying? No. I don't need to spy on my own daughter. But Yedam was concerned. And when he tells me something, I listen. I want to know what's going on in your life, Hana. If I didn't, who would?"

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. I staggered back, my mind racing.
"So you've put Yedam in the position to track me? To watch me?" My voice shook with disbelief. "You've made him my personal surveillance, and for what? So you can control every part of my life? Are you all that pathetic?"

"You're lucky someone like him even likes you, flaws and all. But mark my words, no one else will. They'll leave you behind the moment they find someone better. Take the chance while you can. I pity Yedam. He's waiting for an ungrateful girl like you."

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.
"Mom, do you ever think before you say things like that?"

Her gaze didn't soften. "I'm not afraid to speak the truth, Hana," she snapped, her voice cold, relentless. "And it's the truth. You'll never find anyone on your own. No one loves you the way we do. And one day, when it's too late, you'll finally understand just how much we cared."

She looked at me, her eyes flicking from me to the door as though considering leaving the conversation altogether. "You're being unreasonable. I'm trying to help you make the right choices. What's the point of fighting this?"

"Because it's not what I want!" I almost shouted, the frustration bubbling to the surface now. "You never listen, Mom. All you care about is what you want. What Dad wants. It's always been like that. What about me?"

"Hana, stop making us look like the villains in your story."
She said sternly.

"No I will speak, today I will." I said, my voice cracking.

"I feel so lost being your child. There are times when I wish I had never been born, or that someone else were my parents. No matter how hard I try, it always feels like it's never enough. You never seem to understand the weight of your words, or how deeply they hurt me. It feels like you're suffocating me, with constant criticism and a facade of love that doesn't feel real. It's exhausting to see you pretend everything is fine, when inside, I'm falling apart."

"You think you understand me, but do you really know what you've put me through? You build me up with kind words, but I always doubt they're genuine. One mistake or decision of mine, and I'm suddenly the worst. Every time I hope that maybe you do love me, you crush me again. I'm doing everything I can, and if you can't see that, try seeing me like everyone else does. You've destroyed my ability to trust anyone, because until it comes from you, it doesn't feel real. Doesn't that show how much I respect you?

You've made me feel so different from others my age. Don't tell me we aren't like other people just because you've built your name or have money. Have you ever looked beyond the surface? Have you seen the love my friends grew up with? And the boy you want me to marry—how his parents treat him? They're like us too, aren't they?

You may think you're rich because of your success, but you're poor in the ways that truly matter. This house is missing warmth, love, care. This house lacks everything you should've brought into it. What did you really give me? Material things? Sure, you put me through school and gave me a roof over my head, but that's the bare minimum. You brought me into this world."

"Hana stop yelling at me, this is not how you talk to your mother, you hear me?" She yelled back.

But I ignored her.

 For what it's worth, I was done keeping all the things I wanted to say bottled up.

"I loved you both so much, that I neglected myself in the process. I twisted myself to fit into your mold, but it's still never enough. So, will it ever be? I never spoke against you when it came to my studies or my future, trying to meet your expectations. But now, when it comes to my personal life—the one thing that will stay with me forever, regardless of my achievements—I won't listen. I won't marry someone just because you want me to. And if that's not enough for you, I need you to reflect on how you've wronged me. Put yourself in the life you've put me through, and maybe then, it will all make sense."

Her mother's hand flew out just as she could finish, the slap echoing through the room.

"You ungrateful little—!" Her mother's voice trembled with fury.

The slap echoed in the room, leaving a sharp sting that went far deeper than skin. My hand flew to my cheek instinctively, but my gaze never wavered from my mother's furious face.  

"We gave you everything! You think you know pain? You've lived such a comfortable life, what else could you ever want? You're nothing without me, I made you what you are today. You're useless, ambitionless without us. All you have to do is marry him, and give us whatever portion of the company he's willing to share!" She screamed.

My mother's chest heaved with the intensity of her anger, and for a moment, I thought the woman might explode. But instead, she took a breath, still trembling with rage.

"Portion of the company? This is all it's about?"
I repeated, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. 

"Is that what this is really about? A portion of the company? A piece of your empire? You want me to marry for that, to trade my life for what—status, wealth, some legacy I never asked for?"

My mother flinched, but her eyes only darkened, the anger intensifying.
"This isn't just about you or me. This is about our family, about our future. Can't you do this much for all we've done for you?"

I took a slow, deliberate step forward, meeting my mother's gaze head-on.
"You're trying to marry me off, just so you can get a share in their company without having to use your money? How pathetic are you actually?" I screamed. 

Tears welled up in my eyes as I choked out the words, my voice breaking.
"You're selling me out when you already have everything? You're trying to take everything I have—why would you do this to me? Did I really mean so little to you?"

She shifted uncomfortably, guilt flickering across her face.
"That's not—" She stopped, unable to find the right words. "I never meant to hurt you."

She hesitated, her words stumbling as she tried to justify herself.
"The company was always secondary. We only agreed to this because we thought it would be good for you, and we'd get a little something out of it too. Is that really so wrong?"

"But you did," I whispered, the truth hitting me like a punch.
"You didn't think twice. It wouldn't have hurt as much if you had just told me everything from the start—if you hadn't dumped it all on me like some death sentence I can't escape from."

Her face twisted with regret, but it was too late and none of that was real anyway. The damage was done, the trust shattered into pieces I couldn't piece back together so quickly. 

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. The silence between us felt heavier than anything she'd said.

"I would have understood," I added, my voice barely a whisper,
"if you had just been honest. You tried to trick me into this. All for money. And I never imagined you could stoop so low."

Her eyes darted away, unable to meet mine, and I saw the guilt creeping in, but it didn't matter anymore. The hurt was deeper than anything she could explain.
"I never meant for it to go this far," she said, her voice weak, but the words felt hollow.

"Then why didn't you stop?" I shot back, my chest tight with anger.
"Why didn't you tell me before it got to this point? For you, it was just a deal—a transaction."
 My voice trembled with the weight of betrayal.

She opened her mouth as if to apologize, but the words never came.

"What's happening here?" My dad barged into the room.

I froze. I didn't want him to get mad at me. Suddenly I started feel like... it was all my fault.

A slap from my mom? I was used to it, the sting didn't matter anymore, although I was still disappointed. But my dad—he was the chill one. He never raised his voice, never lost his temper... unless I messed up in ways he couldn't ignore. 

When he got angry, it wasn't with loud outbursts or shouting. No, his anger was quiet, cold, and devastating in its precision. It was the kind of anger that didn't need to be loud to be felt. 

It cut through you, like he was pointing out every place where you fell short of his expectations, every flaw you tried to hide. The words were sharp and calculated, and they landed where it hurt the most—mentally and sometimes even physically. 

That, to me, was worse than any slap or shout from my mom.

"Nothing my love, Hana just did something wrong, I just needed to put her in her place."
Her voice was calm, almost too calm, like it wasn't even worth raising her voice over.

But then he asked, his tone suddenly sharper,
"What's going on with Yedam and her?"

He knew how much I hated Yedam, and he never forced me to be around him. He'd always respected that boundary, at least. It was one of the few things he got right.

But everything else? It's confusing. I can't say he's the worst, because deep down, I know he's not. He has his flaws—hell, we both do. He perfected everything, but never bothered to learn how to be the almost perfect dad, and in the process, he constantly made me feel like I was the problem. 

He was straightforward, though. Never played games. Never tried to trick me or pretend. He didn't need to. His truth was in every silence, every cutting word. He gave me the right direction.

My mom, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. If winning meant bending reality to her will, she'd do it without a second thought. Sugarcoating lies, guilt-tripping, manipulating... she was a master at it. And now, I could see it happening again. She was already spinning her web, telling my dad it was all my fault, trying to twist things so she'd come out the victor. She knew how to play the game. And right now, she was playing it well.

"Dad, did you know—" I sobbed, but I tried to keep my body still, even though every inch of me wanted to tremble.

His eyes flicked toward me, cold and unreadable. He didn't move, didn't react. I could tell he was waiting for me to finish, but I wasn't sure what I could say that would even matter anymore.

"Do not bring your father into this," my mom snapped, her voice sharp, trying to shut me down before I could say another word.

But Dad didn't follow her lead. He looked at me, the faintest flicker of something in his eyes—maybe concern, maybe irritation—but at least this time, he didn't dismiss me. He leaned in a little, his tone firm but softer than usual.
"Do I know what, Hana?"

"Hana, think before—" my mom tried, her voice sharp, like she was about to stop me before I could dig myself in deeper.

But my dad cut her off, his tone cold and commanding.
"Not another word until Hana says anything."
 He shushed her, and for a moment, the air seemed to freeze.

My mom's eyes went wide with a flash of anger, but she didn't speak. Instead, she just stood there, fists clenched, her face tight with frustration.

"Did you know Mom was trying to force my marriage with Yedam?" I blurted out, my entire body trembling, every word feeling like it was tearing out of me.

The room fell into a stunned silence. The weight of what I had just said hung in the air, thick and heavy, suffocating. I hadn't meant to say it so suddenly, so recklessly, but once it was out, there was no taking it back.

My dad's expression didn't change immediately, but I saw his eyes widen, just the slightest flicker of surprise crossing his face. It was like the words had hit him in a way he wasn't prepared for, but he didn't speak right away. His gaze shifted to my mom, then back to me, trying to process what I had just accused her of.

"So you didn't know." I took a sharp intake of breath. "You lied, again."

My mom stepped forward, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
 "Don't make things up, Hana. I never lied or forced you."
Her voice was laced with venom, but my dad didn't flinch.

For the first time, I saw a flicker of something in his eyes—something like doubt, or maybe realization.

"You've been doing this for how long?"
 he asked, not me, but my Mom. His voice loud now, sharp.

She opened her mouth to respond, but the words didn't come immediately. The pause between them felt like an eternity, the air thick with tension.

Then, finally, she spoke. Her voice was clipped, almost too calm.
"Ever since Hana started her third year."

"Ever since her third year?" My dad's voice was steady, but there was an edge to it I hadn't heard before. Maybe it was because I'd never seen my dad truly get mad at my mom. They loved each other. But now, standing in the middle of their conflict, I couldn't help but wonder if I had just broken something.

My mom's expression hardened at his words, but my dad wasn't backing down.
"She's just twenty-four, Yun-hee," he continued, his voice rising slightly, but still controlled.
"She has her life ahead of her. She's studying. How could you do this to your own child? Do you not want her to become someone important when she grows up?"

"You can't say that and blame me Ha-jun. Why wouldn't I want the good for her? That is the reason I'm doing all this for her. I just want to make her life perfect."

"Your greed will make everyone's life here a mess. You'll be ruining our family, however bitter, but I still love it. You'll be ruining Yedam's who's just as equally responsible for this mess."
I sobbed as I interrupted my dad.

"Choi Hana, I'm talking now, aren't I?" He said sternly.

"There's no greed, Hana. Don't throw useless accusations at my actions."
 Her tone was clipped, each word calculated.

"No," I said, my voice trembling but firm. "He deserves to know. He's the only one standing up for me. He finally wants to hear me out."

"What greed?" He asked.

I took a shaky breath, gathering every ounce of courage I had left.
"She wants to be a shareholder of the Bang group. Yedam promised her a part of the company if I married him."

The confession felt like a stone dropped in a still pond—ripples of shock and disbelief spreading across my dad's face. His grip on my mom's arms loosened, and for the first time, there was a crack in his composed exterior.

"You... You did this for money?" My dad's voice cracked, barely above a whisper. The hurt in his eyes was more than I could bear. He wasn't just angry now; he was wounded, betrayed, as if the foundation of everything he believed in had been shattered in an instant.

"Hana, leave. Right now." My mom's voice was laced with fury, each word dripping with spite.

"No Hana's not going anywhere, until you explain to me what you've planned." My dad yelled.

"Hana, leave."
 Her voice was low, harsh, the words clipped like a command I wasn't supposed to question.

"I won't leave until he—"
Thud. The slap landed with a force so sudden, so hard, it felt like the air itself was knocked out of me. I staggered back, the sting of her palm searing across my face, my breath caught in my throat, a choking gasp. For a moment, the world around me went silent, everything blurry and distant, like I was underwater.

The pain hit me so fast, so sharp, it left me gasping, disoriented. I barely realized I was still standing, my legs trembling beneath me.

My father's eyes were wide in shock, his face pale as he watched, frozen in place. The silence between us was suffocating. But my mom—she stood there, unmoving. Her expression remained cold, her chest heaving from frustration.

"Yun-hee, No!" My father's voice broke through the stillness, filled with urgency. 

He was defending me. Why?

"Hana, please just go home," he changed his mind, voice softer now but still firm.

"I never want to see her again," I spat, my voice sharp, a bitter edge to every word.

My father sighed, his shoulders slumping, but he didn't argue.
"Don't speak like that, Hana. I'll fix things, I promise. Just go home. Don't let this affect you—it doesn't matter. Focus on your studies. That's all that matters."

I couldn't respond. I was too numb, too overwhelmed. I just nodded mechanically, the weight of it all too much to carry.

But as I reached the door, something inside me snapped. I couldn't walk away like this, not without saying what had been eating at me for so long.

"And since you love and trust Yedam so much," I said, my voice trembling with the weight of everything I hadn't said before, "when this is all over, ask him about everything I've been through these past few months. Ask him how much you've ruined me. Ask him, and maybe—just maybe—you'll start to regret everything. You'll start to see the truth."

I swallowed hard, but I wasn't done.
"I'm done hiding from you. You're the reason he knows—before you ever did. Maybe, just maybe, if you'd actually looked out for me, if you'd tried to see me for once, instead of relying on him to spy on me, you might've understood. But you didn't."

All I heard before I turned to leave was a frustrated sigh from my mother, a sound thick with years of tension. Then, my father's voice, trembling with disbelief, cut through the silence.
"You made him spy on your own daughter? What all have you been doing?"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.  

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶