You might ask me why I did what I did.

Was I jealous? Biased? Vindictive? Worried? Or maybe I was even…interested?

Oh, no, no. I’m none of those things. Park Sun Young is no one to me. And I’m nothing to her, she’s said as much, and she will probably keep saying it to me time and time again.

So why, you would ask?

Well.

Maybe, in the spur of the moment, I just wanted to look out for my own self. And with Park Sun Young, I might be able to be myself more than if I were to be it around the rest.

Rest assured that there is nothing I would like more than to have her off the show and out of my life, going her own way, picking on street pickpockets and social injustices the way she always has.

But for now, though, while the music plays and the night is young, I shall keep her close by and wait till the moment is just right. She is far too amusing to be kicked out so quickly.

Sorry, Miss Park. You’ll just have to put up with all of this a little longer.

“Where is he?” a frantic voice rang along the corridors of the hospital, “Where is my son?”

A woman, clad in formal office attire, ran in her work pumps to the front desk, her voice hiccupping as she asked for the whereabouts of her child.

“His name is P-Park Chanyeol, about this tall,” she choked out, pressing her shaking hand to her waist for his height, “He g-got into a road accident. Please, if you c-could b-bring me to him-”

Someone appeared next to her, placing a hand on her arm. “Did you say Chanyeol? Are you his mother, by any chance?”

Young Mee spun around so quickly, catching onto her words. “Yes! Yes I am her! I am Park Young Mee!” she gasped, taking the other woman’s shoulders and half-shaking them, “Do you know him? Did you see him?”

The woman nodded, despite being vigorously shaken. “Yes, I came with him and my daughter just now,” she said, all calm and composure, “The doctor told me he has some injuries, but mostly abrasions to his skin and a sprained foot.”

Abrasions to his skin-

Sprained foot-

He is alright then? Just those minor injuries? No broken bones? No fractured skulls?

Young Mee let out a breath, so relieved to hear the news, that she almost sunk to the floor had the other woman not caught her. “Thank you,” she said, taking the woman’s hands, “Thank you.”

“Here, why don’t you take a seat. You look like you’re about to faint.”

Young Mee let out a shaky laugh. “Y-yes, that would be g-good.”

The woman smiled. “Don’t worry, Mrs Park, your son will be alright.”

“I h-hope so.”

Young Mee later found out that the younger woman’s name was Han Nari, and that her daughter had been involved in the same accident, but unlike her son, Sun Young had broken both her legs and had passed out before the ambulance had arrived.

That alone had given her enough reason to calm down, and she had ceased her feverish words, opting for a better composure than the one she had brought with her earlier.

Nari’s clothes had blood on them, and Young Mee couldn’t fathom how she could remain so calm despite her daughter’s far more serious injury. That was when she noticed the woman’s clothes further, seeing the golden logo atop the nametag.

“You’re from Royal Pavilion?” she gasped.

Nari blinked. “Yes, I work there,” she said with a smile, “How did you know- oh, wait, I was wearing the uniform.”

Young Mee stared at the woman. “I…My husband owns that hotel.”

“Director Park?”

“Yes.”

Nari’s mouth gaped open.

Young Mee’s mouth gaped open.

Nari got out of her seat and bowed to her. “I didn’t know, Mrs- um, Madam- um, Director? – Park!” she cried, “I didn’t know-”

“I think, given the circumstances of this acquaintance, you should just call me Young Mee,” came the reply, “Sit, sit. It feels better now that I know one of my staff is here.”

“I can’t call you by your name, Ma’am. It would be unfitting. I’m just a concierge assistant.”

“Yes, but you were with my son, and you were there for him when I wasn’t. Anyone would be grateful knowing that their child was – at the very least – watched over,” Young Mee said, “Come, come. Sit.”

And suddenly it was as if the Director’s wife had fully calmed down, the panicked exterior stripping off, revealing the affable woman underneath.

One would notice how it was the same with her son in present times.

Nari nodded, reluctantly sitting down.

“Are you new to the hotel?” Young Mee asked.

“I’ve been working there since I graduated from high school. So…nine years? Around there.”

“You’re a part of the concierge, you say?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Nine years is a long time to be at the front desk.”

“Oh, I started out as a bellboy…um, bellgirl. I became a waitress at the restaurant section, and then I was part of the housekeeping team, and then the room service team…” Nari said, counting off her fingers at each job, “I’ve also been part of the gym, as well as the security personnel. I’ve been at the concierge for only five months so far.”

Like her daughter, Nari had much to speak of, with the tendency of speaking on and on the way she did.

But Young Mee was more amused, if anything. “Have you been promoted?”

Nari looked sheepish. “That’s been a little difficult,” she explained, “I was told that I didn’t have enough qualifications for a higher position, given my high school education. But my manager has been very kind to teach me managerial tasks these days, given how quickly I’ve picked up the skills.”

Young Mee nodded to herself. “I see,” she murmured, noticing how Nari was staring at the closed doors to the Accident & Emergency ward every now and then. “Did you know what exactly happened?”

Nari turned, a worried expression on her face. “Somewhat,” she said morosely, proceeding to tell her all she had seen.

It was a painful few minutes of listening, as Young Mee assumed who the balloons were for.

“It’s Director Park’s birthday today,” she said, “You’d have been aware of the corporate birthday party in the hotel, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“I’m sure Chanyeol must have wanted to be involved.”

“Wouldn’t he have gone too?”

“He’s not allowed to.”

Nari’s eyes widened. “He’s not allowed to his own father’s birthday celebration?”

Young Mee sighed. “That’s how it is. I was planning to bring him and his sister out, but we were looking for him and couldn’t find him anywhere,” she explained, “Not at the stone pavilion, not at the observatory…it was then that I got the call and I rushed over as soon as I heard.”

“What did Director Park say?”

“He’s with the other investors at his own party right now. I didn’t want to shock him with the news,” Young Mee said, her lips a thin, pressed line, “I’m sure you know how dedicated he is to his job.”

“Yes, he is,” Nari said with a smile, “I hear that he even helps the housekeeping team in the mornings.”

“Yes, well. That comes with a price.”

Nari’s smile faltered, thinking of Chanyeol. “That’s very…sad,” she said, “I hope he’s alright.”

“I can say the same for your daughter,” Young Mee said, changing the subject, “How is she part of the accident too?”

It was Nari’s turn to sigh. “Sun Young can be quite impulsive when she has her own thoughts,” she said with a shake of her head, “Apparently, she thought she could save him.”

“Save him? What do you mean? If you say he was in the middle of the road-”

Young Mee paused, realizing what must have happened.

“Oh.”

The weeks following the accident were long and painful for both mothers.

Nari slept at the hospital almost every night during Sun Young’s stay, buying her warm beancurd with the glutinous rice balls that she so loved, bringing her favorite blanket so she could sleep more comfortably, and by reading stories to her before bed.

It was painful still for Young Mee, who discovered that Chanyeol was going to be scarred. Not permanently, but for a very long time.

Director Park, upon finding out his son had been hospitalized, had rushed from the hotel a day after his birthday.

Like a madman, he trailed after his wife, almost kicking down the door to the personal ward and ripped apart the curtains, seeing his son seated on the bed, playing with toy dinosaurs.

Half his face was covered in gauze and bandages.

At his appearance, Chanyeol lit up. “Abeoji!” he said happily.

Young Mee watched her husband hurry to their son’s side, examining the bandages with a stony stare, before enveloping him in a tight embrace.

“My son,” he choked out, holding the boy so close the latter could hardly breathe.

When he pulled away, Chanyeol smiled at him, waiting for him to speak, even showing his dinosaurs and asking if they looked real or not.

“What happened?” he asked, as the boy’s hand paused in mid-air, “What were you doing in the middle of the road?”

Young Mee stared at her husband’s back, puzzled. She had in fact informed him all that she knew from her conversations with Nari. Why would he ask again?

Their son blinked, looking down at his lap. “I wanted to buy you a birthday present,” he mumbled, his features morphing into a pout, “But they flew away.”

The reply was curt. “They ‘flew away’?”

The Director gripped onto the boy’s chin, just enough to make his smile disappear.

“You gave up your face,” he said grimly, “For a birthday present?”

Young Mee felt her heart skip a beat, her husband’s words shocking her into silence.

Chanyeol’s eyes widened as he stared at his father, and even from here, she could see them start to glisten with tears.

Her husband let go of the boy, a deep frown on his face. “Were you so greedy for my approval that you would give your life to something so worthless as balloons?” he asked softly.

Young Mee’s expression hardened. “Honey-”

Director Park raised his hand to silence her, and he waited for their son to respond.

A tear escaped down Chanyeol’s eye, tugging at her heart. She watched him bit his lip, composing himself, before answering.

“Yes,” his voice filled the cold, silent room, “I am.”

Young Mee almost smiled at the bravery her Chanyeol had in him.

Until the slap came, startling both her and her son.

She watched, in slow motion, as her little boy’s cries rang in her ears, before she ran towards the bed to pull Chanyeol in her arms.

“Why would you do that?” she cried, staring at her husband, “How could you?”

The man didn’t look the least bit apologetic. “I didn’t ask for a present, least of all from you,” he said, ignoring her protests and staring at her crying son, “Is staying quiet too much to ask, Park Chanyeol? Must you resort to such tactics to gain my attention?”

Chanyeol’s body racked with sobs as he buried his face into Young Mee’s side, his little arms winding around her waist.

She glared at her husband, and he gave her a fleeting frown before turning on his heel, leaving them in the ward.

She couldn’t control it inside anymore. “You call yourself a father?” she yelled after him, watching his figure retreat from the doorway. “Is this how you treat your children? Your own son?!”

Before she knew it, tears had pricked their way into her eyes, and she hurriedly swiped them away as she comforted Chanyeol.

Young Mee heard of Nari’s promotion before even suggesting it.

Entering the West Wing library, she opened the door to her husband’s office, through an adjacent door. She couldn’t understand the latter’s need for dark, gloomy enclaves like his library, but he had always been a private man with extremely masculine taste; she had gotten used to it when she had married him, although there were some things that would still need some getting used to.

Like the fact that his decisions were never discussed with her, despite her position in the company.

“What is the meaning of this?” she demanded, striding into the room, “I heard you spoke with Nari.”

That, of course, was referring to the promotion.

Or rather, what lay behind the promotion.

Director Park looked up through his reading glasses. “What are you on about?” he asked quietly, before resuming his paperwork.

“You told her to stay away from Chanyeol, and keep quiet about her daughter, about the accident, everything…for money to pay for her daughter’s medical bills? For a promotion?” she asked in disbelief, “Are you even going to deny it?”

His hand paused mid-writing, before he slowly looked up. “What’s it to you?”

She threw a file onto his desk. “I went to scour the traffic’s CCTV footage. Whether we liked it or not, we would still have offered to pay for Sun Young’s bills! She saved his life, for goodness’ sakes!”

“Who’s Sun Young?”

Young Mee scoffed. “Really now? Who’s Sun Young? That’s Nari’s daughter!”

“Why are you shouting?”

“Why won’t you let Nari visit Chanyeol?”

He didn’t answer.

“Are you afraid she’ll bring him to her daughter?”

He didn’t answer again.

Young Mee let out a frustrated sigh. “He’s been asking about the girl,” she pressed on, “Why won’t you let him see her? Why can’t you just-”

A hand slammed onto the table. “Because she’s different from him!”

Her eyebrows furrowed together. “What?”

Her husband took a deep breath, returning to his prior calm. “Curiosity leads to discovery,” he said, “If I let him see her, let him befriend this Sun Young girl, I’m showing my peers that it is alright for someone like me to mingle with the common people. Our family is different from Nari’s. You shouldn’t be around them either, people will ask why we’re so friendly with our staff, asking them for dinner with us and whatnot. They’re just…different from us.”

“You’re saying that we shouldn’t mix with others,” Young Mee repeated, “Because they, what, earn less than us? Are in a different class than us? What time period are we in?”

“I’m saying that the quieter this is, the better for us, for the kids, and for Nari. It’s better this way. Everyone benefits! Sun Young’s bills are settled, Nari can support her daughter better, and Chanyeol will forget everything,” he said with a smile that was clearly insincere, “He will grow up, everything will be fine, and you’d just be overreacting over something as simple as friendship.”

“He’s never had any friends,” she murmured, “He’s wanting one now and you’re not letting him? Just because she’s not a chaebol?”

He stood up. “I cannot have anyone target us again,” he said, “I already made a mistake of marrying someone out from my circle. Look what they did to my family; dragged us in the news over something so stupid like that.”

Young Mee stifled a gasp. “Mistake?” she echoed, staring at her husband.

His eyes met hers. “No, wait, I didn’t mean to say-” he began.

She backed away from his table. “Don’t,” she blurted, even as he started to walk to her, “Don’t come to me-”

Director Park’s hands wound around her shoulder as he held her close. “I didn’t mean it, Young Mee. I’m sorry,” he murmured, as she fought through her tears.

Covering her face with her hands, she tried to push away the onslaught of dark memories that threatened to overwhelm her confidence, from being ridiculed by her husband’s family for being the daughter of an abusive and poor household, struggling to make ends meet to achieve her university degree, to finding solace within her husband’s promises and marrying him despite their differences, to rising up as his second-in-command in the Park company despite her lack of experience, and finally, realizing that there was still an invisible line of inequality that lay between her and her husband.

“If you’re sorry, you would put aside your own embarrassment and let our son recover from his accident,” she accused.

“He is healing. His scars don’t have to be patched up anymore!”

She didn’t want to yell at him to look at their son properly and see the horrible ridges that still stayed over his skin. “You know what I mean. Let him see her. Let them both see each other!”

He let go of her, the apologetic expression morphing into anger. “No. Over my dead body. I won’t have him-”

Young Mee didn’t stay to hear more.

Why would she, when she would hear his stubborn refusal?

She pushed from him, hurrying out of the office and refusing to turn back when he called her name. Her feet ached in her high heels, and she paused, taking them off and throwing them against the wall as she stormed out of the library barefoot.

She deserved better. Nari deserved better, and so did Sun Young.

And Chanyeol. Poor Chanyeol, now being supervised by a nanny every hour of the day, wondering if his scars would ever heal.

The poor boy had so many nightmares that his face had looked sunken these days, restless and exhausted from the traumatic flashbacks. He would mutter incoherently on how sorry he was, to the point that he would beg her to find the girl and let him bow to the ground in gratitude to her.

The psychologist had suggested having meetings with Sun Young, if only to help him displace the grief and guilt he thought he had caused to the girl, but with her husband’s obsession on not allowing Chanyeol any contact whatsoever – probably in part of his own shame and embarrassment on being a neglectful father – she was unable to coordinate any group therapy.

Heck, with Chanyeol being withdrawn, making friends was a terrifying experience.

How would she better help him adjust, given his insecurities? She wasn’t sure.

Unless there was some way to bypass her husband.

Over my dead body, he had said.

If only he had realized it would be a prayer come true.

Young Mee was in the penthouse, upon being called to it by PD Kim. Yoora sat by her side, equally anxious as to the reason they were called right before dinner.

They faced the large flatscreen on the wall. A video was paused, and PD Kim stood next to the screen, looking at her watch.

The door to the penthouse opened, revealing Baekhyun and Chanyeol.

PD Kim brightened up. “Right on time, gentlemen. You could have been slightly earlier, but well, you’re here now.”

Baekhyun dropped into a swivel chair. “Ask him. He went missing when I went to get drinks. Turns out he was inside the maze.”

“Why are we here?” Chanyeol asked suspiciously, and Young Mee noted green leaves on her son’s coat as he entered, plopping next to her.

“Apparently there’s been a bit of drama inside the girl’s dorm. I want you to know it first before everyone does.”

Young Mee raised an eyebrow. “Already?”

Chanyeol leaned forwards. “I already know about it. That’s what you’re asking us to hurry back here for?”

PD Kim glanced at him, curious. “How did you know?”

“I’m the director of this hotel,” came the reply, “I know whatever that happens within its walls.”

“That doesn’t answer the question, Director Park.”

Chanyeol gave the producer a long stare, to which she smiled back.

Baekhyun cleared his throat. “Maybe we should see what’s going on?” he suggested.

PD Kim turned to the screen. “Gladly,” she said, as the video began to unfold.

Young Mee watched as the scene opened with a bird’s eye view of the Lilium Suite, before the camera zoomed in on two girls arguing.

“Isn’t that Sun Young?” Yoora asked her, and she nodded.

“What is wrong with you?!” Sun Young’s adversary shouted, and they watched as Sun Young ran from the room.

The video stopped, as PD Kim gave a smug grin as they looked at her.

“Mr. Byun,” she said, “What do you think of this little drama over here?”

“I don’t see the point of Sunny – whoever she is – being offended. She’s making a big deal out of nothing.”

“Good observation,” the producer said with a nod, “Now. Miss Park, wouldn’t you think it’s a little too early for a catfight?”

Yoora hummed softly. “You don’t seem too surprised,” she commented, “Are you used to it already?”

Young Mee met the producer’s gaze and immediately put two and two together.

Chanyeol fidgeted next to her. “It was staged, wasn’t it?” he asked, confirming his mother’s suspicions.

PD Kim nodded. “Some of the contestants have been given a little secret mission to wreak a little havoc here and there,” she explained, “That’s how we begin to cull our pool of participants-”

Baekhyun’s chair squeaked. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Cull? What is this, some kind of natural selection thing?”

Chanyeol turned to his mother. “You knew about this?”

Young Mee shot Taeyeon a quick glance. “You heard PD Kim. It’s how we begin to sift the participants we want from the ones we don’t want.”

Chanyeol frowned. “Then what was all that about you supporting Sun Young?” he demanded, “When now you’re wanting to eliminate her?”

That’s it, Channie. Stick up for her. “I’m not sure if she can handle being in such a rigorous competition,” she only said, “Some candidates may not fit well with the vision of the competition, and we should spare them wherever possible, wouldn’t you agree?”

“That’s survival of the fittest,” Baekhyun piped up from behind, “Isn’t that mean?”

Young Mee stared at her son, seeing her husband in his features. “Would you choose someone only from the elite society, if you could?” she asked him.

Chanyeol looked at her like she was crazy. “I’m not going to discriminate someone based off their income, Mother,” he seethed.

He seems offended.

That’s a good thing.

Young Mee smiled. “That’s good to hear. We shall have to see if she can make it despite the challenges.”

“This is insane,” he muttered, “I thought you would want to support her. This is all a trap.”

Yoora shrugged. “You heard her. She’s testing everyone. Sun Young just happens to be the first,” she said, “Maybe it won’t be as bad as later on-”

He looked at PD Kim, looking agitated for some reason. “You better not pick on her.”

Young Mee suppressed the urge to smile.

That’s my boy.

PD Kim chuckled, seeing the turn in conversation. “Director Park, if I can defend myself, I will be picking on everyone. It is in times of drama that we find out how people really are. I’d say Miss Park is a runner from her problems, but that’s better than landing a bl