βοΈ 1 cloudy day at a time βοΈ
part 43: corporate gray
summary: getting stuck in rain on campus that one faithful monday with a mild hangover is either the best or the worst thing to have happened to y/n... she has yet to decide, and so have the people that were involved.
pairing: yang jeongin x fem!reader
warnings:anxiety / panic attack, depression and self-harming actions, (proofread but who is to say that it was done well lol)
word count: 7.6k
Day T-minus 8 days Time: 6 am. Weather: Overcast with a chance of rain and thunder.
With sluggish momentum, YN dragged her heavy body to the studio. Ignoring the ominous squeaking of the door, she stepped inside and there awaited her the piles of her priceless artworks.
A correct choice of words, without a doubt. That is how some would describe themβ¦ Yes, undeniably so. They will be sold for an obnoxious amount of money in less than 10 days.Β
Priceless.Β
And for a good cause.Β
For children!Β
For their future and dreams!Β
A worthy sacrifice for their future, yes, for the future of the faceless and nameless masses that deserve better, that need the help.
For their future.
For them.Β
She did everything in her power to help. Voluntarily.
Just as she was ordered to.
Artworks took up her whole room. Some rested in the corner of the room, covered with a white sheet, some were on the table, some leaning on the stack of her favorite pillows. Looking at the couch where she often slept while working the graveyard shift, she threw herself on the hard surface and lay down, her limbs limp like weeds flattened under the sole of a muddied shoe after a heavy rainfall.Β
She closed her eyes and listened to the never stopping symphony number 5, titled βThe anxietyβ. A messy tune lacking harmony and regular rhythm performed by her very own heart. Her muscles spasmed in the beat of her pounding headache. YN deepened her previously shallow breaths, unclenched her jaw and stretched out her fingers.Β
The start of her day weighed heavy on her chest, and nailed her to her warm bed. However, she had no choice but to get up. Rolling out of her comfort zone was never easy, but at least this time it did not result in any new bruises. She brought her hand up to eye level and looked at the fading discoloration on her wrist. A dry laugh rested upon her lips.Β
βIt sure is taking its sweet time healing up, isnβt it?β She thought to herself. That nasty fall was a long while ago, and yet, it was still here.
Her chest fell and rose in mechanic sequences, those of a robot whose program went haywire and had to be reset.Β
Breathe in and breathe outβ¦ breathe inβ¦ andβ¦ outβ¦
She continued like that for a while. Playing engineer wasnβt easy, it wasnβt even pretend.Β
The ticking of the clock drowned out by the distant cracking of thunder.Β
1,Β
2,Β
3,Β
4,Β
5,Β
6,Β
7,Β
8,Β
9, 10, . . .
.
.
15!
The crack of a thunderous whip jolted her senses awake.
And it came again, without a warning.
The thunder roared like an enraged father, with disappointment in the tail ends of his voice. The storm had yet to start in the city, but the announcement of its upcoming presence still sent a chill down YNβs spine. It was far, so far that it could barely be heard, but with YNβs heightened senses she could foretell when it would start pouring and drown any arrogant fool who dared step a foot on the streets that were not meant for them to walk on.Β
Reluctant, YN looked up to her window. It was dark outside. Yes, dark clouds usually did signify rainβ¦Β
Good eye youβve got, YN! Good job!Β
Even you rolled your eyes at your own dumb observations and questionsβ¦
Just look at how gloomy the sky was presenting itself to be these daysβ¦ It didnβt even try to hide its sadness anymoreβ¦ Like a heavy burden weighted down on the shoulders of the feeble men, like the dread has grown a body, limbs and head, like its greedy eyes have swallowed up the city whole. When was the last time the sky greeted us with the clear blueβs smile instead of the gray dullβs numbness?
When did it start to pour like a dam that burst when it rained?
When did the unrelenting typhoons start to harry the lands of the bountiful harvests?
Since when has it become a barren, emotionless wasteland?
The daylight barely peered through the window into the studio. The shadows were too harsh in here, perhaps it was a wise decision on YNβs part to stand up and turn on the lights. Nobody wanted her hard work to go to waste because she tripped on something and broke a painting or two. Sure, she could also have hurt herself, but thatβs of insignificant importance anyway. What was the worst that could happen? Going to the hospital to fix her would cost less than having her paintings ruined.Β
So many would suffer if that happenedβ¦
YN swept away the rain, the one she didnβt pay attention to until this moment, one dripping down the corners of her eyes. She exhaled the last hiccups of resistance and finally started packing the paintings. Or so she intended toβ¦Β
She stared at them, her hands tingled as her eyes slowly lost focus. Her eyes darted across the room, her body didnβt know how to move. Her shoulders tensed up, fingers dug into her skinβ¦ Her mind was blank, a crumpled piece of paper on the side of a trash can that someone threw aside. A failure of an attempt at ambitious workβ¦
Where was she supposed to put them? Or how was she supposed to pack them?
Her mind screamed at her to move and do something⦠but how⦠and what was she supposed to do?
They didn't tell her that!Β
No!
Sheβ¦ she didnβt know that! She only knew that the paintings were going to be transported to the storage roomβ¦Β
And todayβ¦ in a few hours from nowβ¦
As YNβs knees buckled down and she contracted into a little protective shell, she screamed. Not loudly. No. Her voice was gone from all of the crying she did. It was a dry desert and herβ¦ a sinner left to search and traverse the lands, perched without any salvation in sight.
She crawled underneath the table, hid like a little child playing a game. YN hid away to the best of her possibilities. The burdens she must carry wouldnβt find her thereβ¦ correct?
Frustrated, she leaned on the front leg of the table and faced the cracking wall.Β
Cracks?
No, they moved around erratically. No! Those were bugs!Β
She flinched away and bumped her head into the table with a loud thud, her scream barely louder than a whisper. She tightly shut her moist eyes⦠With deep breaths, choking on air, she tried her best to compose herself. She must have coughed out a part of her soul at that moment, if she had any left.
The desk was right to the wall, and no light reached her. It was dark. Too dark.
She must have imagined thingsβ¦ surelyβ¦
Scared, she turned around and crawled away from the cold exterior wall, careful not to hit her head again in the process. Now, she, just outside of her haven, carefully observed the room from this angle.
It was small. Small small small small small!!! oh so small! It was suffocatingly small!
Nowhere to hide!
It was spacious, big enough for all her dreams,
But it was small small small small small!!!!!!!
From this angle, she only saw the mountains of her pain and horror taking up her space.Β
She rocked her body in repetitive motions, her head knocked on the table from time to time, each hit stronger than the last. Her actions had no clear sign of stopping soon. There was no room for her to lean her head comfortably.
She was too big for it.
There were paintings on the right.
But they were not hersβ¦
There were paintings on the table above her.
But those, too, were not hers.
Not hers, not what she wanted to paint, not her dreams.
Not the fruits of her self expression!Β
Nothing inside this room was hers beside these broken tears and silenced screams that did not stop.
Where did she begin? What was she supposed to do? She wasn't told what to do, oh god, what was she supposed to do then?!
She didn't know, didnβt knowβ¦ she just did not know!
For fucks sake, was there anyone who could just tell her what she needed to do?!
As time passed, the light warily peered through the curtains and looked kindly at her. It pitied her, as she bowed her head down, pitied that her head felt heavy, that her hands felt rigid like a pair of chiseled marble stones, precious and easy to break. Her skin was hers as much as it was borrowed on a loan.Β
When will the blood debt be cleared?Β
How much longer did she need to spread herself thin?Β Β
Would it only stop once she was left with crumbles of her own identity, one that does not rely on her relationship with the LN family?Β
Would the debt be considered settled once and for all, once she was no longer a part of this earthly realm?Β
What a cruel usurer family can be.
YN let out a broken laugh, sniffling and swallowing her tears.
Even meek sunshine dared to pity the bruised heart YN carried within herself. Its callous warmth caressed her paintings, zoning in on them, it whispered for her to gather herself. It peered through its tick shackles of gray to remind herβ¦ time is all encompassing. Time brought both a slow decay of the soul and body and the thawing of an ice cold heart. It passed slowly, yet fast. It killed with the same hands it healedβ¦
On her knees, and slowly on her legs, YNβs hands supported her body weight on the table, and once more, she raised her gaze to look outside. The darkness of November night quietly switched places with the rising morning Sun. Undeniably, the sand in the hourglass still flowed out even if you could not see it because of an obstacle. And no matter how she spent this time, it still didnβt stop for her to wallow in self-pity.
YNβs fingernails gently scratched over the freed surface on the wooden table. A bit of hardened yellow and green paint to the side. It was smooth, her nails glided over it. She pricked on it, scraping away the residue. Her mind steadily calmed, still it ran a mile a minute trying to figure out the course of her actions.
Maybe she could organize them? Yes, that's what she decided to do. YN left real packaging to the professionals. Surely, she was mistaken. She couldn't possibly be responsible for that serious of a task. Yes! Silly YN!
So she did, she went and organized them⦠By size. Some canvases were small, some were a lot bigger. Wow, she really painted that many in that little amount of time? Our YN is such a genius!
Perhaps, she thought as she patted her right biceps, perhaps she should take a picture of them. Yes, she should do that before she stacks them up or anything!
Yes, YN! That's a brilliant idea! You did right by making a mess out of the already organized paintings, just to take pictures that youβve already got!Β
As much as her inner voice nagged her for making a mess, yet againβ¦ she knew that these pictures were different. These were the last images of them, and in these pictures...Β
You, too, were in these pictures, YN.Β
These were not pictures taken solely for the purpose of marketing.
Now that you took all of these pictures, you could organize them again. You werenβt doing this to delay the inevitable. No, thatβs a silly thought.
Come on, our precious masterpiece making machine, you knew you needed to pack these things. You wasted your priceless time again, silly! Why did you do that?
Yes, organizing these soulless paintings was as tedious and tiresome as making them was, but it still needed to be done?! You successfully did the first part, you didnβt complain and you didnβt stop, so why bother now?Β
The faster you finish everything, the faster those 8 days would come and the auction would come to passβ¦ and youβll be freeβ¦
Silly, YN!
So stop wasting your damn time and go do something more productive and useful!Β
Damn!
YN sighed once again and fell to her knees. Slouched, a lopsided smile graced her face. A madmanβs smile, a man who was going through a breakdownβ¦ A burst dam of suppressed emotions and opinionsβ¦Β
She bit the inside of her cheek and used the back of her hand to swipe away the beads of sweat that formed on her face.Β
Her hands went up in triumph, the knuckles turning completely white.Β
βI did it! I.. Iβm done!β
What a crazed laugh was that, YN? Like cracking of the boards in an old decrepit house that barely held itself together, like wind that howled through and rattled the windows open and shut.
Perhaps, you found today to be a dreadful day, and not completely the same as the rest. Yes, this Thursday was different than the last, and stillβ¦ It was like any other day.Β
But her questionable enthusiasm didnβt last for long, as her phone had reminded her thatβ¦
At some point this Thursday, she had to talk with her father. And that time came sooner than she wanted. She refused to talk over the phone, and now, she had to go and have this conversation face-to-face with the devil himself.
It was 7 oβclock sharp; her phone rang. It was none other than her fatherβs main Secretary β Secretary Park. A meticulous man always in gray. He was terse, but polite, and always on time.
The terror set in her eyes, it watched as the sound coming from her phone echoed across the room like the bell at an empty cemetery. Death grimaced at her trembling form, it wasnβt in her presence and yetβ¦ A feeling that fate worse by tenfold awaited her if she picked up the call.Β
Her hand reached out for the cursed object, tepidly; if she picked it up, sheβd have no peace for the rest of her days.
Silly, isnβt that your current predicament?
And so, she picked it up.
After a few morning pleasantries exchanged between them, an awkward silence ensued. Odd, as Secretary Park is not one to allow such mistakes to happen. Although he didnβt talk pointlessly, he still said enoughβ¦ But this, YN noted, was not like him.
βSecretary Park?β YN called out to him, confused.
βI apologize, Miss. There seems to be a problem on our side. Giveββ his voice sounded strained, βgive me a second to take a look at something.β
βOhβ¦ Sure.β
YN played with her cuticles as she waited for him to speak again. The shouts from the other line broke the silence.
βThey sure have a lot going onβ¦β She thought to herself as she bit down on her lipsβ¦ and at the rate she was going, she was sure to leave wounds.Β
β9 am.β Secretary Park spoke out of nowhere, almost scaring her silly. βI will be waiting for you in front of the art department building.β
βAlright.β
βA truck will come and pick up your art and transport it to the storage.β
βYesβ¦ I was told as much.βΒ
βMiss YN and I will go to the companyβ¦ Driver Kim will be driving us there...β He wasnβt talking to her, his voice sounded far.
βMhmβ¦β Still, she responded.
βOhβ¦ Miss YN, is that alright with you?β His gruff voice shook her up.
βYesβ¦β YNβs voice trailed offβ¦
βGood!β
The exchange ended with him confirming the time and place with her again. Although he didnβt say anything to warrant such a thing, to YN, his voice sounded almost pleading, as if he begged her not to cause trouble, to make sure the things went as they were supposed to.
As the line went dead, YN was reminded how much she disliked the circumstances she was in. The lack of control of it all, really. There was no moment where she had forgotten about it. She sat down on the sofa and leaned her head back, her eyes focused on the blank ceilingβ¦Β
What was she supposed to do for the next two hours? She gripped her phone tightly; turned it on and off multiple timesβ¦ as if the time refused to pass when she needed it toβ¦
She opened her private twitter account and thought to message her beloved anonymous friend.
βBut, itβs so early thoughβ¦β They wouldnβt respond, so whatβs the point?
She couldnβt bother others, she didnβt want to be a burden to anybodyβ¦
Ah.. maybeβ¦
But then, as if βBubbaβ could read her mind, she got a message. What an interesting telepathic connection these two shared.
It was a one of those over the top pictures wishing her good morning, as well as a text message that read:
-[To the beautiful soul and my dear friend, I hope this day treats you better than the weather outside.]
The irony.
And anotherβ¦ fewβ¦
-[I have classes early todayβ¦ and honestly, im not that excited to go to class.] -[i dont wanna go, Moonieβ¦ can you go instead of me :(] -[itβs that weird professor again] -[itβs been a while since i heard from you, i hope youβre doing alright~ text me when you get a chance~] -[you know i loooove you more than anyone else in the world, right? youre my ride or die boo, so tell me when we are jumping, dont jump without me okk?]
And yet again, another flirtatious and goofy meme followed after that⦠weird string of good morning messages.
A crack of thunder brought YN back to reality.
Ah, he remembered.
She responded to his messages simply, wished him a good morning as well, wished him a good day too, despite the obvious lack of hope he had for his classesβ¦Β
He responded fast, asking her one too many questions for her to process and talked about one too many things for her to even try to understand. She responded simply, but it was enough.
Soon enough, she was doom scrolling on her social media as the rain poured outside.
βAh, he didnβt forget to bring an umbrella, right?β YN shook her head as she thought to herself. No way.
She stretched her hands in front of her before retracting them back, and once more, she pulled the rest of her body close to her chest. She leaned her head on her knees, fearful of the nightmarish chime of her smartphone. It was going to ring soon. She was soon to be on her way to the place she wished she never had to step a foot in. A place where dreams are supposed to be made, and yet so often die a tragic death, never to be reborn.Β
She looked towards the door. This scene is so similar and yet so different from the pleasant night with Jeongin. Alas, with the break of dawn, dreams disappeared and reality dragged its ugly ass in. Only nights are made for pleasant things, and the days, they leave a bitter taste in your mouth. All of this would be easier to bear, if only Jeongin was there with YN, too. In person. The talk with her internet friend did help a bit, but nothing beats the real deal. At least, with him here, she could have cried in his arms. Surrounded by his warmth and pleasant caress of her backβ¦
Companionship might not solve all of her problems, but having someone to share this pain with, it certainly would make the weight easier to bear. Pain is a lot easier to deal with when someone is there to hold your hand. A lot better than suffering with your lonesomeβ¦
She really missed herβ¦ friendsβ¦
Like a preprogrammed machine, the phone rang at exactly 9. Just like Secretary Park promised it would.
YN looked at the phone in her hand for a moment and wondered if it would've been alright to pretend she never heard it, to pretend they did not have a conversation this morning. She sighed deeply, swallowed the words she wished to say and begrudgingly picked up the call.
βMiss YN, I am waiting for you in front of the building. Are you inside?β His voice was stern and yet mellow.
βMhmβ¦β
βWill you come down so that the workers can come collect the painting?β
βWhatβ¦β YNβs voice was barely audibleβ¦ βAre you sayingβ¦ I was supposed to pack them myself?
βOh, Miss YN!β You imagined that he got strange looks from the passers-by as his voice went an octave higherβ¦ if there were any around. βFor goodness sake, of course not! That would be too much trouble for you! We have professionals who can take care of that.βΒ
βAh.. I assumedβ¦β
βNo! Absolutely not!βΒ
βThat was silly of me.β You hoped Secretary Park couldnβt pick up on your sniffling. Your nose was still a bit runny. Hopefully, your eyes werenβt too red.
βNo, Miss.β
There was a slight pause, and YN picked herself up from the floor β that she somehow found herself on yet again β and shuffled across the room.
βWill you be coming down now?β
βMhm!β
With such short answers, there was no way for her voice to break. Though, that did not mean that it covered the sadness in her voice. It was still present to those who cared to listen.
YN came down and exchanged greetings with Secretary Park. He wore his trademarked gray suit, just like he always did. And YN, too, wore yet another shade of gray. Funny how things turned out sometimes, isnβt that right? She didnβt even intentionally pick itβ¦ it just sorta happened. Perhaps this was the frequency the network emitted and YN connected to the same wavelengthβ¦ and if that was so, why was the world of creativity so dull?
While YN was pondering the meaning of her useless life and tried to keep a good manners about her, the workers booked to her studio. While she wishfully looked back, Secretary Park looked on at her with a look of expectation.
βMiss.β He cleared his throat. βWe should get going, Mister L/N is waiting for you.β
YN nodded at his words.
βHeβ¦ freed up 2 hours for you.β He looked quite apologetic about the whole situation and that made YN too uncomfortable about what she was about to say.
βButβ¦ I wanted to lock the door behindβ¦β YN couldnβt look him in the eyes as she spoke. βErmβ¦. I guess I shouldβve stayed on the studio floor thenβ¦β
βNonsenseβ¦β He fidgeted with his cufflink. βThen, how about this, Miss?βΒ
He started walking towards where the car was parked.Β
βI will stay behind. Iβll lock the doorβ¦ and haul back a ride to workβ¦?βΒ
βBut that would be too much of an inconvenience, Secretary Park!β YN chuckled through the discomfort.Β
βItβs part of my job! Nothing for you to be worried about.β
With staggering steps, YN followed Secretary Park and was successfully transferred into Driver Kimβs care. Secretary Park opened the door for her and reassured YN again that he would not forget to lock the door. He promised her that he would hand the key over to her as soon as he could.
She couldnβt help but worry. Her safe space was currently being invaded and there was nothing she could do to stop the siege. Alas, her work, hobby, lifeβ¦ all of her was already occupiedβ¦ Was this move from the enemyβs side really that surprising?Β
No, YNβ¦ no it wasnβt.
The ride was smooth, there was nothing YN could complain about.Β
YN looked outside the window, watching the building pass, the monotone monochromatic view surrounding her. The dreariness of the sky contrasted by the flashing billboards. That one on the left was that one actress thatβs been signed with your fatherβs company for years, that other one on the far left building was the most popular member of the girl group that debuted 3 years ago, and that one wasβ¦. So many people, all of them were the ones that were affiliated with your fathers company. So many people were living their dreams because they chose the βrightβ company. They grasped the right opportunity. Perhaps they wouldnβt have shone as bright if they had chosen a different path, right, YN?
Even now in this moment you thought about the betrayal you felt from someone you held close to your heart. You started to believe it was ridiculous that you still felt betrayed, but you still did. You had no right to, you even gave them your blessingβ¦ and yet you still did. You wondered if you should feel this way, these are their lives, they are allowed to do what they want and with whom they want and yet. You hoped that this situation would not happen. Were you selfish to feel this way? Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes yet again, but you swallowed your wounded pride and swallowed the lump in your throat. The fingernails dug deep into the skin of your palms, hands stretched and contracted, frustrated that thereβs nothing to grab on. Nothing to tear apart the way your soul wishes to burst out of your chest and make your skin bleed with relief. You squeezed the door seat, feeling the cool leather underneath your fingertips. It was slippery, your fingers glided over it. You slowly scratched it, not leaving any marks, only a comforting sensation to calm your fried nerves. This didnβt hurt rightβ¦ Β You sighed deeply, throwing your head back, looking up to the roof of the car. It was spacious and yet still so suffocating. You spaced out looking at the roof as the neon lights bounced off your skin. There really are a lot of billboards around here, huh? And the people on them were the talents from your fathers agency.
They were the only light that illuminated this uninviting gray sea. The only paragon of humanity. And yet, all of that too was the same. Same smile, same eyes, same dreams, same same same sameβ¦ Everyone entered different, but exited the same, battered and broken. Compromised dreams and lives that many envied β the only thing they had.
The ride was quiet, only your sighs and the soft morning music were heard. Driver Kim focused on the road ahead of him, which allowed you to wallow in self hatred to your content. No words were exchanged between the two of you. You occasionally moved your unfocused eyes to look in front of you, but there wasn't anything you saw. Nothing to be seen except the morning rush. Yet another congestion in your life. Nothing to see here. Not even the pitying glances Driver Kim gave you through the rear mirror. This wasn't the first time he'd seen you this way, after all, he worked for your family for quite a while now. Even he felt pity for someone of your status.
After a while, YN had arrived on the battlefield.Β
Driver Kimβs voice woke you up from your daze, the older man called your name a few times before you noticed that the vehicle had come to a stop. You bid him your farewells as you got out of the car. With one last nod, you took hesitant steps towards the building. The guard at the front door recognized you, bidding you hello.Β
He looked at you with pity.Β
He opened the door for you. You thanked him and continued onwards. You stopped in the lobby, it was decked out with the artist's photos. It was massive.Β
You steadily approached the front desk, and asked them to inform your father that you had arrived. You went through the motions, not thinking, just navigating the space using just your muscle memory.
They, too, had pity in their eyes. They shouldn't, but they did. They, too, saw it as you fiddled with the hem of your jacket, folding it and straightening it as you waited to hear the confirmation that you can go upstairs.
From the Sun, to the Moon and stars, to the birds in trees and ants on the ground, you see pity everywhere around you, YN. They see how unfair this is, fair Lady, why are you angry at them for noticing so?
As a kid, you spent a lot of time at the company, but how times have changed. Youβd come visit your dad while he worked, sometimes even talk to some of the stars, the staff loved you too. But now, he was no longer your dad. Father was barely a title you liked to leave your lips either. He barely counts as a fatherly figure, after all you too were an employed talent being exploited for his means. Though your work brought him prestige and the publicβs goodwill and no moneyβ¦Β
You loved painting, and your artworks were going to a cause you believed in, but you felt dirty, borderline evil. There was no sincerity in your actions or concern. It was forced. These works were like rotten bread in a welfare stand. You ate poison while giving them the fresh loafs. With each bite you grew sicker and no doctor could help cure you. But there's nothing you could do to prevent this illness either, it's the only source of food youβve got.
The elevator chimed openβ¦ youβve reached the final destination. You passed by some trainees talking, they moved aside as you walked past them, immediately shutting up. They were talking about 3RATCHAβ¦ However, some of them were displeased with the quick ride to the top they got, and so the guy who recognized you shushed them up. You gave them a curt nod, and continued on your way. Thereβs no need to talk with them, or express how you felt about it.Β
A secretary waited for you in front of your fathers office. She introduced herself as Secretary Kang and told you to wait for a second, as your father was currently on a phone call, and that she was going to call you in as soon as you could come in.
Sitting on that couch felt like a lifetime had passed. Everything was a chic black and white, with posters from the talents being hung all over the walls. Secretary Kang sat quietly at her desk, typing away about who knows what. The magazines on the table looked nice. They had the number one singerβs face on their coverβ¦ what else... Erm, there was a flower pot next to the ginormous window overlooking the cityβ¦ What else was in this room? There was a bookcase next to that flower, right in the cornerβ¦ Oh godβ¦Β
As your eyes darted across the room, your hands played with the zipper on your jacket, you made eye contact with the employee... She had a slightly annoyed look on her face, her brows gently furrowed. You gave her an awkward half smile and looked away, not noticing that she wanted to say something.
The floor was nice, polished tilesβ¦ if someone walked too fast they would most certainly slip and fall and break their back and, and, andβ¦ andβ¦ your mind continued to spiral down. You didn't sleep well last night and your mind, anxious, continued to take you to the most awful of places. The ticking clock continued to pester, just pointing out the passage of time.Β
Things will get better once you're free, right? You will be free, right?
You have to admit to yourself just how much you dreaded talking to your father. How afraid you are to face him.
You wished that it would turn out he was too busy to talk to you and that you wouldn't need to actually sit down face to face with him and have this uncomfortable conversation. Maybe, then, in the end, you would be allowed to just walk in with them in the auctionβ¦ or better yet, maybe he'd agree that you didnβt need an escort. Why did you need one in the first place? And then too, if you were going to come in with one, wasnβt picking Han Jisung a bit risky? For his career sake? Ah, what a great point to bring up without having to say anything about the real reason you don't want to walk with him, talk with him or be anywhere in his proximity.
God fucking damn it, how long do you need to wait for? Again⦠you have to wait for him yet again.
You tried asking, but the poor Secretary Kang didnβt know when the phone would end. It wasnβt a planned one after all.
Frustrated, you took off your jacket, putting it on your lap.Β
"Mr. L/N will see you now."
A century long wait for your sentence finally came to an end. Now, the Judge, the cold-hearted businessman, was ready to announce the punishment.
Stubborn muscles not following the wishes of their owner, the feet dragged across a 10 steps long corridor riddled with the death traps.Β
It was fine.
It was going to be fine.
The secretary knocked on the upholstered mahogany, announcing your presence. A gravelly voice resonated from the other side of the wooden shield, inviting you in. You didnβt dare step inside of the enemy lair, but as the secretary did as she was instructed to, you had no time to run away.
Reluctantly you stepped over the threshold, with careful steps. The man stood at the back of his office, his back turned to you.
How welcoming.
YN swallowed the rising lump in her throat. One of her clammy hands trembled at her side, the other held onto the jacket as tightly as it couldβ¦ What would she do if she had to release her aegis? Only the stubborn thunder and pointed voice of a distant man standing not that far away from her roared, her voice quiet as a mouse.Β
βSit.β He said, still not looking at you. His head held high and arms behind his back.
The black leather couch was still the same as the last time youβve been here. You put the jacket beside you, the clinking noises of the zippers being the only noise in the room.
Your eyes were pointed to the coffee table in front of you, a rather empty sight. The dreariness of the color choices of the walls weighed heavy on your mood that was already in ruins. Perhaps, it is that manβs aura thatβs suppressed you and broke all of the boundaries you built. His footsteps nearing you rang like those of a killer approaching his victim.
But he was just your father, and you his daughter.
He sank into the couch opposite you, his gaze intense enough to drill through an impenetrable rock. Frozen and unmoving as you were, you might just be one.Β
You didnβt move a finger, you didnβt say anything, you stood your ground on everything heβs ever asked of you, never changed your opinions.
You might have been a stone but across you sat water, unrelenting and persistent. If water tried hard enough and for long enough, it too could break the unbreakable.
Which happenedβ¦ again and again.Β
You faltered against his authority many times.Β
He never listened or quit, always finding a way to go and make you do what he wanted, and you broke into a million pieces every time trying to fit into places he designated for you.
βIβve gone over the inventory again ββ He stopped mid sentence, whipping his head towards the desk. βDo you want any tea?β
You just shook your head, but he scoffed and narrowed his eyes.Β
βNoβ¦ thank youβ¦β
βAlright!β He cleared his throat and continued, his tiger-like roar of a voice still not allowing you to relax. Every syllable he uttered instilled fear into your heart, you even forgot to think.
βAs I was saying, you really gave it your all, YN!β
His laugh stung, it prickled your skin like sharp needles. You nodded through the pain, to everything he said.
βEvery single one of them!β He clasped his hands. βTruly, works of a genius!β
βIβ¦ didβ¦ the best I could.β If he wasnβt going to move his gaze away, you would.Β
He continued to sing praises about works, surprising you with pointed comments and things he noticed in them. But as he marveled at the details and prices theyβll fetch for, you noticed one thing that did change in this room.
It was gone.
The painting you made at the tender age of 16 was gone, made back when some love and yearning for approval still resided in your heart.
Your eyes lingered above him for far too long for him not to realize why your shaking eyes stabilized, why a flame ignited and blazed the top of his head.
βI know how valuable that piece is.β You donβt believe he does. βItβs one of the early masterpieces of a genius artist! I can part my hands with it if it helps the children!β
Oh, how the unconsidered men howled in content. How they basked in the light of their own benevolence. Their saintly light blinded. In this dark room, his own ego shone the brightest.
βYou plan on auctioning it off.β
βItβs beautiful! One of our investors is rather interested in it.βΒ
You were stun-locked by the words that kept coming out of his mouth.
βThe last time he was here, the man couldnβt stop going on about its artistry!β
βFaββ
βHe couldnβt believe you were just a high school student when you painted it!β
βFatherβ¦β
βIf only the money wasnβt going to a charityβ¦β
βFATHER!β Your voice rose an octave, words barely made it out of your gated lips. βYouβ¦ you plan on auctioning it off?β Your face contorted in disgust and betrayalβ¦ yet anotherβ¦Β
βDonβt paint me as a bad guy here, YN!β Your head fell into your hands, you reached out for your hair, your sleeves rolled up and exposed your forearms. Your locks of hair tangled between your fingers, and you resisted the urge to pull on them.
βYou can always paint me a new one, right, daughter?β
You hated the self satisfied smile on his face, if you reached over the table, you might snatch it off.
βItβs not the same!β Your voice quivered, your sour mood prepared to burst into tears if this talk continued for much longer.
And you would just sell it off tooβ¦
βYes, if you made it nowβ¦β He fiddled with his wrist watch. βIt would be more valuable, ha, I canβt even imagine how much more it would sell for if you made it now!β
You jumped up, ready to question him why heβs selling it in the first place if he believes that itβs of lesser quality than ones you made now, but his void-like eyes remind you not to.
βThis is not why Iβm here.β Instead of sitting down you walked up to the window, tracing the raindrops rolling down the glass.Β
Metal echoed across the glass table, the careless throw made you flinch, your shoulders shot up to your ears.Β
βRight, my daughterβ¦β When will this man stop his disgusting chuckling? βPray tell, YN, who do you want to bring as your plus one?βΒ
The race across the smooth surface in front of you continued on.
βDo I have to?β you mumbled.Β
The one on the left was faster than the one on the rightβ¦. Ooooh, it combined with another one underneath it and now it was even faster!
βNo.βΒ
You could see his nonchalant frame lean back onto the couch in the window. He spread his arms behind him.Β Β
For a man who never laughed, this change in his demeanor brought all of the rage inside your heart to the surface. You turned your head around, your eyebrows furrowed and footsteps hurried. You stopped right to the side of him, and leaned with one hand at the backrest of the couch, looking at him from the side.
βI donβt have to???β
βYesβ¦β His responses dragged on, he lazily smiled at you. βI thought about what you said, and you were right, YN... No need to come with Jisung.β
βI donβt need ββ
βThe trio is better presented as such.β He picked up the watch and marveled at its polished sheen. βA trio.β
βWhen did you figure that out, old man?β
He chuckled at your retort. βLast night?β
βThen ββ You huffed, snorted, shook your head in disbelief. βThen, why make me come here and miss class!
βI said we were going to have this conversation eye to eye, YN.β
βUnbelievable!β
βAnd you arenβt even missing class right now. Do you even know your own schedule?β
Taking a few steps back, you slowly approached the opposite couch. His continued onslaught of provocations made your blood pressure spike. You arenβt sure how you responded to his words. You blacked out with wrath taking control over your mind.Β
You picked up your jacked and stormed out, the doors slammed behind you. It was right on time, as Secretary Park was encroaching where you stood.
You took the keys off him and walked away, pissed that the old fart wasted your time and didnβt even care how his unfeeling ass hurt you.
However, he stepped out and reminded you once again of just how much that statement rang true. How unimportant your feelings and opinions were in the face of greater things.
βDonβt forget to be ready on time!β He straightened the collar of his shirt and fixed his tie. βWe need to be there early so we can enter at the same time!β
This old fox! What a sly fucker, forcing you to enter with your disharmonious family!Β
He made you forget that you didnβt even mind that option too much, if it was him or them.Β
Now that heβs said it as a matter of factβ¦ and in front of so many peopleβ¦ how were you supposed to say no?
But it was just a few staff and some trainees that obviously wouldnβt say anything even if you ended up entering separatelyβ¦
Oh no, this old man knew you wouldnβt let that happen.
You looked him directly in the eyes for the first time today and hissed through your fake smile. βOf course I wonβt forget! This is our last entrance together as a family after all!β
Exchanging fake but knowing smiles with that old man, YN left, not noticing that those trainees at the side werenβt just any young menβ¦ No, those werenβt the ones YN saw in the lobby on her way here. No, that was none other than 3RATCHA who was about to have a meeting with the devil himself, to accept or deny their contract with the agency.
They were sat outside by Secretary Park who ran into them in the lobby. They sat right where you previously were and unintentionally overheard the tail end of your conversation with your father. Those walls werenβt nearly as soundproof as they needed to be. There were words of anger exchanged that you probably donβt even remember saying, but they made Chris uncomfortable, stung Changbinβs ears and made Hanβs heart clench. They frightened more than the deafening growls of thunder happening outside these building walls.
Hearing YNβs words made Chris realize just how fearless you can be in the face of a man that has you in the palms of his hands, that strung you around like aΒ marionette as youβve once put it.Β
Seeing that pathetic play in front of their eyes made Changbin question where your dauntlessness had gone, he didnβt believe youβd just let someone push you around like that. Your eyes brimmed with tears and you retreated into yourself.
But Han noticed the bruise that peeked out on your wrist. You were hurt? How? What happened? He wanted to go run after you but he couldnβt, no, never. As Han Jisung felt guilt eating him alive, devouring him in bitter mockery. In the end, they were here to accept the deal, excusing their actions by believing that heβs already ruined what youβve had and at this point it would be a waste not to take it.
Your messy silhouette disappeared from their sight fast. They barely had time to process all of the information in front of them before being called in for the meeting as the lawyers presenting both sides had arrived.
YN, you peerless actressβ¦ How well you played the role you were given. A supporting actress, the second place in everyoneβs life and even your own. You were a passive participant of your own life, how shameful. Β
If you donβt like the merciless truth, then do something about it. Do you even dare to step outside your comfort zone? Until when will you continue to let everyone dictate your life. How will you defeat them when you canβt even handle me?
YN cried herself to sleep, her face buried deep into her fluffy pillow and her smothering blanket over her.Β
It was a cloudy day, and night, a slightly different Thursday. She held a conversation with her dad for longer than 5 minutes, even if it descended into a fight in the end.
Not a single star shone in the sky, just a distant thunder lulled the frightened heart to sleep and messages that popped up on her screen that lit up the room. One of them read:
[guess who got drenched like a fucking rat today?]
And many more covertly worried ones ensuedβ¦
Masterlist
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A/N: After a whole year and some months, we are back! For... one chapter :') So much has happened since then, both in my personal life and in the world... I hope I didn't miss anyone in the tag list, but in case I have, please remind me so that I don't forget to tag you for the next part... which I hope I'll finish faster than this one. Tbh, writing the whole chapter was rather daunting, even though I knew what was supposed to happen, I just wasn't sure how to express all of it correctly, and even this, I'm not sure is quite right. But, it's here! No moodboad for this part... even if it was the much needed... considering how long it took me post it hahaha In case it takes me a long time for the next one... you can check the moodboard / teaser for it (doesnt exist atm, a link will be added once i do make it) Anyways, I'll go back to my other WIPs now... hopefully I'll see you guys again soon :D The tag list is open, so if you want to be added, let me know :) especially since it takes me a while to update :))
