𝓟𝙍𝙄𝙈𝘼 ❊

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"i know i am, come on." subin held out the contentious jacket, urging sumin to put it out. while the days had warmed slightly, the winter wind still pushed through, the knife that cut through clothing. sumin's hand curled around his arm, a familiar touch, as he led her to the car he had waiting, opening the back door so that she could enter first before sliding in after her. mom and dad. he wasn't expecting the question, and he felt himself stiffen imperceptibly in response. good ol' mom and dad. he had spoken to their mother recently, informed her of their current status: subin locked into endless trainee grind, sumin on thee brink of debut. he could hear the slur in her words as she gushed over her daughter, her joy tampered by the obvious intoxication... what was it this time? alcohol? pills. she'd tried to reassure subin that his time, too, would come. a sentiment she'd echoed endlessly over the past two years. he'd ended the phone call almost as quickly as he had started it. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"mom knows, she's... happy for you." sumin didn't need to know how their mother continued to hide her pain behind the shimmering veil of inebriation. but their father... subin's relationship with their father had always been contentious: subin actively rebelling against everything the man instructed him to do... until it benefitted him. he was an unwilling participant, but fed from the silver spoon reegardless. he couldn't remember the last time he'd heard his father's voice. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"i don't know about dad... you know how it is. we haven't spoken in awhile, but i'm sure he's aware. he always is." subin glanced toward his twin, her eyes searching his own, seeking something. reassurance? pride? indifference? a small smile formed on his face, a rarity, as he assumed the role he'd always played for his sister: supporter, advocate, mother, father, brother. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"i'm proud of you, you know. it's no easy thing, what you've done. i believe in you, min-ah. we'll be seeing your name in lights everywhere, soon enough."

where subin was contentious, dipping his toes into attempts at maintaining contact— sumin was a stone wall. she didn't let their parents in, as much as she felt that innate craving, the deep-seated ache that was now pressing upon her chest, to know them and to be known. by never speaking to them, she knew that she placed the burden on subin to carry that weight. he had to be the one to relay messages, an intermediary between mother and daughter, father and— well, sometimes sumin didn't even listen to those messages. she was also a vine. it climbed up her walls, out of them, through the ground until it wrapped itself around anyone close enough that was of comfort. for as long as there had been air to breathe, that had been subin. that was why now, when he said that he was proud, her lips quirked up in spite of herself. it did feel a little like how a father might speak, if sumin had known anything about that. ㅤㅤㅤ"thank you," the grumble in her voice might not have told anyone else that she appreciated the praise, but she knew subin would understand. she'd never been particularly good at accepting kindness, because she so rarely gave it out herself. she knew that her brother was the same way, so there was no pressure but— he wasn't debuting. not yet, anyway. for the first time in their lives, that meant she was now one step ahead of him. that was why now, she felt a momentary fumble for words as they climbed into the vehicle to be jettisoned off to whatever restaurant subin had selected for the evening. to celebrate her. was this the first time she'd celebrated something that was wholly her own? her cheeks felt a flush of something akin to shame, and she breathed, ㅤㅤㅤ"it will be your turn soon." because it felt like she had to. ㅤㅤㅤ"it has to be." 'cause i don't know how long i can do this on my own.