Jongin had envisioned his destination to be nothing more than a normal abode but no – this place appeared more like the Korean counterpart of The White House. High ceilings, pristine marble floor, red velvet curtains…was he in a palace of some sort?

The aimless wandering of his eyes soon stopped at the thundering of both feet and voices. He’s unable to calm the rapid pace of his heart and he ended up squirming uneasily in the white sofa as the vehement noises across the living room intensified in volume.

"—not really in a position to tell me to calm down—"

"—show some respect! You are not to have a say in this—"

"—very ing well do! This is my marriage we're—"

"—have been in debt to them since—"

"—see that I don't give a —"

Despite only following two quarrelling voices, about four figures started streaming into the living room and at the sight of them, Jongin's entire mind zapped blank. All noises ceased, everyone was looking at him, and Jongin wished the ground would just swallow him whole. One person in particular stared him down with such hatred and disapproval that Jongin could do nothing but to swallow down an audible gulp. He’d never been an avid fan of being put under pressure.

"You gotta be kidding me," Sehun deadpanned, shattering the silence once and for all, incredulity painting his face. "This - he's a ing kid-"

The Kwon matriarch was appalled by how crass her grandson was. "Language, young man!"
 

It