When Yoongi opened his mouth, the doorbell rang.

His face clouded, and Seung Hee turned away, suddenly shy, and he went to answer the door.

“Hello, Eomma,” he said.

“I hope I'm not disturbing anything,” said Mrs Min's voice, and Seung Hee thought that she would die – how did Mrs Min know that something was about to happen? Or was that just Seung Hee's overactive paranoia starting up?

She was still sitting at the table, still holding a half eaten Oreo, her heart still thumping. But she got up quickly and embraced Mrs Min, who exclaimed, “Just look at you! Eighteen years old now – you're an adult!”

Seung Hee smiled and Yoongi said, “Don't get any ideas, kiddo – you'll always be a kid.”

He pulled her ponytail and she slapped his hand.

“Yup,” he said, amused. “You'll always react that way.”

Mrs Min looked at them both, a little surprised, and Seung Hee realized that she hadn't offered her anything.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” she asked.

Mrs Min shook her head. “No, thank you, dear. I just came to tell you something. Yoongi, your father's job requires him to go to China for a few months.”

“So what?” said Yoongi indifferently. “He always goes away – do you want me to move back in?”

“Not this time, Yoongi – I'm going with him.”

Yoongi drew his breath in sharply, and Seung Hee felt as though she were missing the picture. Yoongi seemed shocked – but what was shocking about a woman accompanying her husband?

“Are you sure?” said Yoongi urgently. “Because if-”

“I'm sure, Yoongi.”

“Then….” he said slowly. “What time are you leaving?”

“This was all very sudden, you know. We're leaving tonight.”

“What time? I'll come see you off and-”

“We're leaving at 2:00 AM, so don't – I'd rather you were sleeping, all right? And all you will do is fight with your father...”

The look Yoongi threw at Seung Hee was a plea to let him talk to his mother alone.

“Excuse me,” said Seung Hee. “I think I left something in the kitchen.”

She went to the kitchen and since she really had nothing better to do, she sat on the counter and tried to hear the conversation. However, no matter how hard she listened, all she could hear were low, indistinct murmurs.

She finally gave up on eavesdropping and decided to look through the fridge. It had been almost empty yesterday, and she had to make a list and go shopping.

To her surprise, the fridge was full of airtight containers, pickles, and sauces. A giant container of kimchi took up an entire shelf. Who had brought this? Yoongi had probably gone to see his mother the other day and brought this back.

Seung Hee took the container of kimchi out – she had to use two hands – and placed it on the counter. She was already drooling and when she put a bit into , she wasn't disappointed – it was spicy, salty, tangy and crisp, and definitely made by Mrs Min. She ate another piece and Yoongi came in.

“Can I go back now?” asked Seung Hee, full.
He nodded, and she went back and hugged Mrs Min.

“Thank you, Seung Hee,” she whispered softly. “For Yoongi...”
And Seung Hee understood that Mrs Min knew all about it – that Yoongi had given her a choice, and she had chosen him.

“Thank you, Eomoni,” she said. “For taking such good care of me. Take care of yourself in China-”
Yoongi cleared his throat. “Aish, it's not like we'll never see each other again. It's not like there's no such thing as a phone!”

“You're so insensitive,” said Seung Hee.

“Yah, I'm an artist – I'm really sensitive!”
Mrs Min rolled her eyes but accepted Yoongi's embrace. Then, her eyes wet with unshed tears, she left after many goodbyes and take cares.

Seung Hee went right back to the kitchen and ate more kimchi.

Yoongi followed her and he frowned slightly. “Why are you eating all the kimchi?”

“Because it's good.” Seung Hee put the box back in the fridge. “Did you bring all this?”

“Yeah, this morning. You and Ha Na were sleeping. Just how late did you stay up, anyway?”

“Um, I'm not sure – I didn't look at the clock.”

He smirked. “How predictable.”

Seung Hee ignored this – he just wanted to annoy her. And why was he making such a fuss about Mrs Min going to China with Mr Min? She wasn't sure whether she should ask or not – would he say that she was nosy and get in a bad mood?

“Do you want to ask me something?” asked Yoongi.

“How did you know?”

“It's written all over your face.”

“Oh...”

“So what is it?”

Was she really that easy to read? It wasn't fair that Yoongi seemed to know what she was thinking, when she couldn't even guess about him. But anyway, it looked like he wasn't going to get mad.

“It's just,” she said slowly. “You seemed surprised about Eomoni, and I was wondering why because I don't think there's anything strange about that.”

Yoongi sighed and ran his hand through his red hair before saying, “You know, right, that my father had numerous affairs? And that I'm the result of one?”

Seung Hee nodded.

“Just think, can a marriage survive that?”

She shook her head – what Mr Park had done was the ultimate betrayal. “But why didn't they get a divorce?”

“I think it was for my sister's sake,” said Yoongi quietly. “And later on, for my sake, too.”

Mrs Min had been so brave – and unlike Seung Hee's mother, she knew what a divorce did to the children.

“Sometimes,” said Yoongi. “I wonder how she can bear to live with my father – or even look at me.”

“I can tell you why,” said Seung Hee. “It's because she loves you – and I think she still loves your father, too.”

“My father did-”

“I know, he did a terrible thing,” said Seung Hee. “Is this why you and him always fight?”

“Fight?” she said sharply.

“Yeah, fight. And you never speak either.”

“I don't know,” said Yoongi. “I guess I can't forgive him. It's funny, isn't it? Eomma already forgave him a long time ago, and now they are going to try again. I have never remembered a time when they went anywhere together before.”

“Then maybe it's time that you forgave him, too,” said Seung Hee.

“Then what about you?” he challenged. “Why don't you forgive your mother?”

“She is a different case.”

“Not really, when you think about it.”

Seung Hee didn't want to listen to Yoongi lecture her about her mother, so to change the subject, she pointed to Yoongi's closed hand.

“What's that?” she asked.

He opened his hand to reveal a small box – the kind rings were put in.

“Eomma returned this to us,” he said. “Our wedding rings, remember?”

He opened the box, and inside were two gold rings nestled together. “Let's wear them.”

“No way!” cried Seung Hee at once.

He frowned. “Why not?”

“Yoongi, that's real gold. And it's so obvious that it's a wedding ring.”

“No, it isn't,” he insisted stubbornly. “Just wear it.”

He took her ring out of the box and she put her hands behind her back.

“Stop being so immature and just put it on!” he ordered. “What, are you scared that you'll lose it? Is that it?”

“It's really expensive and I just don't want to wear it.”

“Tell me why. You have to give me a reason!”

They glared at each other. Why did he even want to wear the rings, anyway? It was true that she was terrified of losing hers, but wearing it would feel so strange and uncomfortable – it's a real wedding ring, after all.

Before she could explain, the doorbell rang. In a foul mood, Yoongi stomped off to answer it.

“Manager Woo,” he said, suddenly sounding meeker.

“Just what the hell do you think you're doing?!”

Even from the kitchen, Seung Hee trembled a bit at Manager Woo's voice – it was so harsh. That man was just so… cold. And she always felt that he considered BTS as possessions, as money-making machines.

“You turned your phone off!” shouted Woo. “Did you really think that you could wriggle out of it?”

“I told you,” said Yoongi wearily – as though he had said this many times. “I'll do the concerts, the fanmeetings, the advertisements, the photo shoots, but I won't go on variety shows.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” demanded Woo. “Who are you to make these kinds of decisions? You listen up, now – as long as you work under K Entertainment, you will do as you're told or else meet us in court for breaking the terms of your contract. And right now, we're telling you to go on that variety show.”

Yoongi said something so softly that Seung Hee couldn't hear, but it must have been bad because Manager Woo's voice rose.

“You are just an idol! You sell yourself for a living, all you have is your face! If you don't please the public, you're out – there are plenty of others who can take your place. You go on every show we tell to, and you please the public. If you ever try to get out of doing a show again, K Entertainment will consider it as a breach of contract. Understand?”

“Yes,” muttered Yoongi. He sounded so helpless...

“Follow me. We have to hurry to get there on time – and you're fined, Min. We warned you last time, so you better pay the fine.”

Seung Hee heard them leave and it took every bit of self-control not to go after them and beat that Woo into a bloody pulp – how dare he speak to Yoongi that way! But she knew that if anyone got beaten up, it would be her – there was a reason why Yoongi hadn't let Woo know that she was there.

How long would Yoongi be away for? A few hours? A day? Would she spend every day waiting for him in an empty apartment?

No, she couldn't think like that. He was going to come home, and she wasn't going to be alone all the time. And when she was, it was a perfect opportunity to get started on the pile of homework the teachers expected her to do – and she was supposed to be on vacation!

Except Manager Woo's words kept echoing in her mind as she tried to learn a bunch of maths formulas - “You are just an idol.”

No, Yoongi was a lot more than that – there was a lot more to his identity than that. Woo had no idea what he was saying and Seung Hee longed to go punch him in the face.