My lips tightened into a thin line.  

Of course, my father had taken the liberty to choose a husband for me. What, did I think that he was going to let me choose my own husband? No, but I didn’t expect him to propose marriage so early in my life. For goodness sakes, I had been absent from his life for three years and the first thing he expected me to do was get married.

I wasn’t angry. I was infuriated.

Just as I opened my mouth to retort back to the bastard, something soft caressed my face. Jonghwa was at it again, climbing onto my lap and playing with my hair. It didn’t matter that our mutual biological Father was trying to ruin my life; the abomination seemed to have no care in the world. A delighted gurgle escaped his lips when I adjusted him to a sitting position on my lap.

I almost smiled at the sound. Almost. By flattening my lips into a much thinner line, I managed to save myself from the humiliation that would have likely occurred if I had smiled. But, it was so darn hard not to smile. Jonghwa was too damn cute and lovable to boot.

I didn’t have the patience to deal with the little twerp. I didn’t want to be responsible for scarring him for the rest of his life. A smile would most definitely contribute to that. I took in a deep breath and willed myself to sober up.

“You want me to get married?” I asked in a low voice. “When? Where? Why? How?”

My father simply sat there with the tips of his fingers pressed together. He had an amazing gift of frustrating people. I couldn’t understand how or why my mother even tolerated his presence for so long.

“Well, I can’t say that I’m surprised,” I continued with a chuckle. “Finding out that I have a little brother isn’t enough for you, is it? Now, I have to follow your every whim because you deserve to order me around. Because you deserve to be a father to me, right?”

“Hwayoung-ah,” Step-monster whispered. “You don’t need to—”

“I don’t think I was talking to you,” I interrupted coolly.

Step-monster blinked back at me with an expression mixed between shock and disbelief. I smirked; she looked as if I slapped her across the face, which I would have done if Jonghwa wasn’t snuggled in my lap.

“Hwayoung, dear,” Step-monster breathed, her voice hard and laced with venom. “I am your mother. I think it is time that you treat me with respect.”

“Since when were you my mother?”

“I have been married to your father for almost ten years. Don’t you think this grudge has been going on for a bit too long?”

A corner of my lips lifted in humor. Really, what she just said was actually funny. I never pegged her out to be a comedian, but perhaps that career suited her better than any modeling gig would. “Grudge? I have never had a grudge against you, Step-mother. Holding a grudge would mean that you have some sort of significance in my life. And you don’t.”

Step-monster’s eyebrow twitched in either rage or irritation. I couldn’t tell; plastic surgery seriously did no justice for her.

“Baekhee, please leave me alone with Hwayoung.”

I bit back an annoyed twitter. Just when things were getting interesting, he had to ruin the fun.

Typical Kang Hwajin.

“Yeobo,” Step-monster murmured, “we need to settle this. I won’t have her insulting me—”

“I said, ‘please.’”

A frigid atmosphere settled in the room. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one making snappy remarks to Step-monster. Perhaps the perfect relationship between my Father and Step-monster was not as perfect as I made it out to be.

Step-monster sniffed loudly, hoisted Jonghwa gently into her arms, and dragged Sungjong out of the room with her before he had a chance to protest. Somewhere above us, a door slammed, accentuating the silence between me and my Father.

Could it be that Father and Step-monster were no longer on “good” terms, whatever “good” meant to them? Granted, my Father wasn’t the best person to live with and Step-monster was no angel, either, but their relationship was (according to my impeccable memory) likely to last for a long time. They were horrible parents, but inseparable lovers. That was something I couldn’t deny.

But, that didn’t stop me from chuckling a little at the situation. It was a rare opportunity to witness my Father getting angry at Step-monster; I didn’t plan on missing out on it.  

“Well,” I began as I sank into a more comfortable position on the couch. “That was cold. Even for you.”

“Shut your mouth, Hwayoung,” ordered my Father with a snarl. “She is still your mother, whether you want her to be or not.”

I lifted my hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m not the one who sent her away like some overbearing tyrant.”

My Father’s gaze softened, softened, at this. “I sent her away for her own good. She is too precious to get caught in what I’m about to tell you.”

Precious? I scoffed to myself. His definition and my definition of “precious” were on opposite ends of the spectrum. If someone as evil as Step-monster was “precious” to my Father, then he was not a human being. So, I guess he wasn’t angry at her, after all.  

“But before I tell you anything, that attitude needs to go, Hwayoung. Your sarcasm isn’t appreciated here.”

I literally laughed out loud at that point. My Father was a gem. “You seem to be mistaken about something, Father. I am no longer under your care. Which means that I could care less about whether or not you appreciate my sarcasm.”

Father smirked at me. “Oh, really? You are no longer under my care?” He snapped his fingers and a wizened butler appeared at his side. “Please retrieve the file that is on my desk, Mr. Woo. The one with the yellow post-it note on top.”

I watched as the butler adjusted his spectacles, bowed low before my Father, and whisked out the living room toward the staircase. I turned back to face my Father. “I’m assuming that you have some trump card that will convince me that I am still completely under your care.”

Father sighed. “When are you ever going to be an adult and accept things for what they are?”  

“Do I have to repeat myself?”

“The only reason why I allowed you to leave was because I wanted to see you grow into a mature young woman.”

There was something odd about the way he said that. It was almost as if… he loved me.

I shook my head in disbelief, then crossed my arms tightly around my chest. It wasn’t like my father to be so benign; he proved that time and time again by marrying Step-monster and ignoring me those seven years. But, there was a slight chance that he cared about me, as sickening as it was to think about it. He did pick me up from school and introduce me his new home and son, after all.

Just as I opened my mouth to respond, Father said the one thing I didn’t expect him to say. Like, ever.    

“Hwayoung, I need your help.”

“What? The high and mighty Kang Hwajin needs my help?”

“As much as I hate to say this, yes. I need your help.”

“Don’t give me that bull. You must have eaten some weird today.”

“I didn’t eat anything weird.”

“Whatever,” I scoffed. “Why would you need my help? It’s not like you needed my help before I left.”

“Look, can you forget about your pride for a moment and just work with me?”

Working with my Father was an incredibly stupid idea. And I was not stupid. “No, of course not. What makes you think that I would even dare to work with you?”

“Does me being your father ring a bell?”

I touched my chin in mock contemplation. “Hmm, I don’t think it does.”

“Hwayoung!”

“Being a father constitutes your involvement in my life, Father. You were never involved in my life.”

Father sighed as he took off his glasses and began wiping the lens with a cloth. Despite my (entertaining) attempts to insult my Father’s intelligence, an unsettling feeling gathered in the pit of my stomach. He wiped his glasses whenever he was about to explain something difficult. Which meant that an arranged married was the least of my worries. I had to admit that for someone who hadn’t seen me, excuse me, met with me for three years, my Father was sure full of surprises.

“This is very important, Hwayoung. I detest having to explain this to you, but this needs to be explained.”

What? WHAT needs to be explained? I spat impatiently in my mind.

“As you know, I am of age for retirement.”

I didn’t know and I didn’t care, but I was now aware of that fact.

“Jonghwa is still much too young to carry on my legacy at the hospital.”

Hang on.

“Sungjong is of age and is my legal son. However, he is not my biological son.”

Just then, old Mr. Woo stepped into the living room with the requested file in hand and gave it to Father. Then, he slinked back into the shadows, his spectacles glinting as he turned to walk away. I released a shuddering breath. Was it me or was that butler a tad bit fishy?

Father propped open the file to a nearly blank sheet of paper. The fine print was too small for me to read from my perch, but I knew exactly what it was for. I didn’t need a degree in Law to figure it out. I stared at Father’s neat signature and blood-red seal at the bottom of the page.

At that moment, I finally understood why he pulled out the file.

My freedom was never mine to begin with.

~:~:~:~:~

I was still in shock when Father sent me to rehearsal with Bodyguard Jung. The limousine ride was, without a doubt, comfortable, but I didn’t notice a thing. I didn’t respond to any of Bodyguard Jung’s vapid questions. I didn’t answer my phone when it began buzzing like a bee on steroids. And I didn’t step out of the limo as readily as Bodyguard Jung wanted when we finally arrived at my school.

I was in a daze. My mind was busy with too many questions left unanswered. Then again, I didn’t dare ask my Father a single question after his final proposal. Simply seeing the file was enough to render me speechless for the rest of the day.

I finally knew why he needed my help. No, I didn’t want to help him, but he was my old man. It didn’t matter what I thought. He was, and always will be, the warden of my fate. Damn him. Why couldn’t it be someone else? Why couldn’t my mother offer her love and life to someone with actual substance in his heart? My hollow-chested father was now picking on me as his heir and I didn’t like it. 

Rehearsal didn’t go too well, either. Since I was half an hour late, the Director made me apologize in front of the whole cast and crew (which didn’t do much, to tell the truth), ordered us to run through the entire musical from start to finish thrice (an amazing feat, really), and demanded that we rehearse the new dance number (the one that the Director chose in place of the kissing scene) five more times afterwards.

Yes, he was angry. Again. Granted, he always had a short temper, but my tardiness today was the last straw for him.

Those who weren’t involved in the dance number had long since gone home after the third run-through. Of course, each of the homebound cast members glared at me at least once before leaving. This time, the extra practice was indeed my fault. I couldn’t argue with that.

“Yah, Hwayoung,” whispered Sungyeol as he supported the small of my back with his knee. We had just concluded the new dance number for the fifth time.

I blinked up at him. “What, Oppa?”

“Don’t, ‘What, Oppa’ me. What’s wrong with you today?”

“There’s nothing wrong with me.”

He eyed me, then looked away with a sigh. “You always say that there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“It’s because there’s nothing—”

“Ten minute break!” Our Director announced before storming off-stage. There was a hush as he made his way to his office at the back of the theater. All the cast members collapsed to the floor the moment the office door slammed shut.

“I can’t believe this,” muttered Sungyeol as he pulled his knee out from under me. I crumpled to the floor with a soft groan.

Goodness, even Sungyeol was irritated with me. What was this? “Blame-Hwayoung-for-everything” day?

“What can’t you believe?” I asked as I pulled myself into a sitting position.

He tossed me a water bottle. A bit forcefully, I might add. “Don’t you feel the least bit sorry for your fellow cast members?” 

“Oppa, I apologized in front of the entire cast and crew.”

“That has nothing to do with it! All of these people had to suffer for your mistakes!” Sungyeol barked with a of his pointer to our glowering audience. “Think about someone other than yourself for at least five seconds, will you? Just what did you do to make you so late to rehearsal today?”

I winced when a jolt of pain shot through my temple. “Stop reprimanding me. You’re giving me a headache.”

“Giving you a headache? Oh, I’m sorry, Princess Hwayoung. I didn’t know you were that fragile.”

I bit back an annoyed twitter. Yes, I was fragile. My mind felt like it was about to explode from the amount of thoughts crammed into it. But, in no way was I a princess. Sungyeol had no reason to be saying like that to me. He himself had just been cured of drunkenness, thanks to me. If anyone was a princess, it was him.

I sighed. Then again, I had no reason to be annoyed with my best friend. He was probably just concerned with my welfare. 

“Oppa, I had an extremely long day. Could you cut me some slack?”

“You know, it would help if you told me what made your day long.”

Goodness. Of course, I wanted to tell him! But, I simply couldn’t include my best friend in this mess. He wouldn’t be able to help me, even if he tried.

“As much as I want to do that, Oppa, I think you have enough duties on your shoulders. I don’t want to add another insignificant thing.” 

“You little—!” Sungyeol stopped mid-sentence long enough for the silence to be uncomfortable. I looked up at him to find him staring blankly at me. I furrowed my brows. What was he staring at?

“You met up with your father, didn’t you?”

I rolled my eyes in an attempt to mask my amazement. Apparently, he knew me so well that he could read the double meaning behind my words. Unbelievable. “So what if I did?”

He lowered his eyes. As he did this, anger slowly began to fade from his expression. “Did he say anything to you? Did he hurt you?”

“Oh, please,” I scoffed. “If anyone did the hurting, it would have been me. But, no, he didn’t say anything worthy for me to remember.”

Or rather, worthy for me to try to remember. Unlucky for me, it was the type of thing that I would never, ever forget for the rest of my life.

“Oh,” he breathed, a smile brightening his moody expression. “That’s good.”

It was official. My best friend was bipolar.

~:~:~:~:~

After yet another one of our Director’s lectures about punctuality and interdependence, the remaining cast was finally dismissed half an hour before midnight. We had rehearsed for a good seven hours. It was our longest rehearsal to date.

As everyone began gathering their belongings, I sunk to the ground and drew my knees to my chest. 

Throughout the entire night, my fellow cast members didn’t fail to spare me a glance at least once. Even though they finally had the chance to laugh and talk amongst each other, I was still the subject of tonight’s gossip. Popularity sure had the tendency to ruin my life.

Not to mention, Dahee had to leave a few minutes before rehearsal ended. She was needed at home and it was way past her curfew. No Dahee meant no one bubbly and annoying to ease my troubled mind. It also meant no one to listen to my problems and hug me when I needed it. I really took the younger girl for granted.

Someone plopped down beside me, shattering my thoughts into a million pieces, but I didn’t dare to look up. I was in no mood to interact with other human beings.

“Yah, Hwayoung, look at me.”

Sungyeol. I should have known.

“I’m sorry for earlier.”

Sure, he was.

“I thought that your father hurt you.”

Well, he didn’t.

“There were some things he told me that… Let’s just say that it could have hurt you.”

I wasn’t hurt. Why did he keep assuming that?

… Wait.

“What did you say?” I asked, barely audible above the conversations.

There was a pause. “There were some things your father told me… I thought that maybe—”

“—it would hurt me?”

So, he knew. Sungyeol knew about my father’s secrets. Well, I couldn’t call them secrets if he told Sungyeol before me.

Kang Jonghwa.

My arranged marriage.

And that final proposal.

“But, I’m glad,” Sungyeol added quickly with a chuckle. “I’m glad that he didn’t hurt you! At least he had enough class to leave you unscathed.”

Unscathed. That… was not the right word.

“You knew… and you didn’t tell me?” I enunciated before lifting my head to meet his eyes with a hard stare. “You knew about my ‘namdongsaeng.’ And my arranged marriage. Did you know about his proposal as well?”

He widened his eyes at me. “How did you—?”

“Oppa, how long are you going to keep things like this from me?”

“It’s not like I wanted to, Hwayoung—”

“How long?”

It was not like Sungyeol to be so tight-lipped on matters concerning my father. He was my best friend, after all. He heaved a sigh, then stood up. “I’ve had enough of this.”

“Enough of what?” I snarled as I did the same. “Am I that much of a nuisance that you can’t even tell me these things?”

“What if I said, ‘yes?’”

“Then, of course, I’d be pissed at you,” I murmured. “I probably wouldn’t speak to you for a week or two. Or maybe even a month.”

“Then, yes. You’re a nuisance.” 

That was it. My expression soured so fast, I thought my lips were going to disappear. “A nuisance?”

“Yes, a nuisance. Why am I supposed to take care of you? When did I become your guardian? I thought I was your best friend, but I ended up being your caretaker…”

The rest of Sungyeol’s lecture fell on deaf ears. It was enough that I had to deal with my Father earlier in the day; I didn’t need Sungyeol treating me like a child, as well. Father’s proposal still hadn’t dissipated from the recesses of mind, no matter how desperately I wanted to forget it. Funny thing about my Father was the fact that his decisions always affected how I lived my life. This time was no different.

A loud, wooden smack resounded from beside me, snapping me out of my thoughts so violently, I barely had time to collect myself.

Sungyeol spun me around by the crook of my elbow and directed my head towards him with a rough tug of my chin. I widened my eyes at the sight in front of me. His expression was a strange mixture of rage and concern; a wild snarl disfigured his usual sunny complexion, but there was an intense burning in his gaze, like that of a concerned parent. Or, what I assumed the gaze of a concerned parent would look like. It was such a jarring juxtaposition that I almost whimpered.

“Yah, are you listening to me, Kang Hwayoung?” Sungyeol snapped, drawing the attention of our fellow cast members. “Am I that insignificant in your life that you forget who saved you from becoming homeless? I clothed you, found you a job, and a new home. Yet, you can’t even spare a few minutes to listen to what I have to say!”

Woah. That got heated up real quick. Was this Lee Sungyeol speaking?

“Everyone in this auditorium depends on your leadership and you are leaving them high and dry whenever you come late! Why, do you want this musical to fail? Do you want all this hard work to go to waste just because you are unable to take responsibility for your actions?”

This was coming from someone who appeared at my doorstep late the night before in a drunken stupor. He was reprimanding me for arriving at rehearsal half an hour late, something that I rarely did to begin with. Surely, this was the spirit of the Director speaking through my best friend, or something of that ed up nature, because Lee Sungyeol would never reprimand me for something as menial as being late.

“Have you become a mute or something? Say something, you little !”

The auditorium grew silent.

. Now, that was new. It was a term he and I reserved for women who were uncontrollable, inconsolable, and irresponsible. es were women who had no regard for the human race. It was debatable whether they were humans themselves. And he was identifying me as one of them?

Hot, wet tears pooled in my eyes, blurring his face into a mass of colorless colors. I had never seen Sungyeol get so enraged at me, or anyone else for that matter. Depressed, yes. Irritated, yes. But, never enraged. Not even his mother witnessed such wrath. Even during our diaper years, he rarely cried or screamed. He did not curse easily and even if he did, the curse list would range from “crap” to “butthead.”

But, Sungyeol was clearly mad. At me of all people.

He released my elbow with a shove. I felt my heart tear a little. So, this was what it felt like to be hurt by the most important man in a woman’s life, best friend or otherwise. My Mother had the right idea to leave my Father. She would have never survived if she stayed with him.

Before any of my tears had the chance to fall, I my heel and fled toward the auditorium exit.

I burst out the door and kept running.

Rain poured down the sky in sheets of dull gray. Thunder boomed somewhere in the east. Lightning streaked across swollen rain clouds, igniting the night with an ethereal light. Small rivers and lakes plagued the school grounds; the school resembled a swampy marshland more than a respectable institution.

By the time I reached the Sun Mount Path*, I was soaked to the skin and ankle deep in water. My Gucci pumps were no longer able to function fashionably. My rehearsal dress clung to every curve and crevice of my body. My hair and stage makeup were in a mess. I was probably a sight to behold.

(*The Sun Mount Path is a walkway on the Sungkyunkwan University Natural Sciences Campus that connects a total of four buildings and leads to a forking path to the Samsung Library and Student Center.)

I slowed to a stop under the cover of the General Studies Building, which was already closed for the evening. I sunk to a sitting position beside the front doors and drew my knees to my chest. Within ten minutes, the rain weakened into a misty veil, while my tears continued to fall heavily.

As I struggled to regulate my breathing, I stared out at the stormy skies and let out a breathless chuckle. The weather totally reflected my mood. I was sad, frustrated, and overwhelmed with a plethora of emotions that I couldn’t even begin to differentiate and identify.

Exhaustion grappled with my consciousness, taking the upper hand whenever I thought about Sungyeol’s sudden animosity and Father’s proposal. My eyelids grew heavy and drooped to a close.

*****Hey, all! So, I'm back after an extremely long hiatus. Since I am a graduate student now, I cannot guarantee that I will be able to update frequently... I'm sorry about that. But, I can guarantee that I will finish this story! Unfortunately, it will take a long time. I will do my best to update periodically. If you feel that I update too slow, you are definitely free to unsubscribe... I feel horrible for subjecting all of you to my procrastination. I don't want to make all of you wait. I have already made you all wait two years with only seven chapters posted. I'm such a horrible author.

But, all of you who plan to stick it through to the end, thank you so much! I promise that with each chapter, I will improve my writing and present a polished final draft for all of you to read! Please comment and subscribe upon your leisure and as always, constructive criticism is welcome! Look forward to Hoya's appearance in the next chapter! 

10.8.15, 2:32 pm :)*****