At seven, Soonyoung’s mother declares that they have to visit their ancestor’s graves. “You can’t come, of course,” she says sharply once her eyes land on Jihoon. Soonyoung had protested, but his mother had put her foot down, so that left Soonyoung only being able to apologise to Jihoon.

“Don’t wait up for us—unpack, walk Byeol—do whatever you want,” he had said, trying to keep the mood light.

Jihoon is kind of hurt that he couldn’t go along with them, but he figures it’s to be expected. He’s Soonyoung’s boyfriend, not his husband. He’s not part of the family. He goes along with Soonyoung’s suggestion, unpacking their luggage.

After an hour or so, he gets bored and decides he needs a glass of water. He makes his way into the kitchen, not expecting to see an old woman. Her wrinkled but nimble fingers are making songpyeon and setting them down on plates in neat rows. He yelps, attracting her attention. “You must be my grandson’s boyfriend!” The old woman says. “G-grandmother,” Jihoon mumbles in respect, bowing hurriedly.

“Oh, none of that,” she smiles kindly, pulling Jihoon back up. “Call me Eunhae when we’re alone.” Jihoon mutters an assent, too busy matching her features to Soonyoung’s (Christ, does everyone have eyes like that in the family?). The old woman asks Jihoon to wash his hands and help her with the songpyeon, and Jihoon does so. This must be better than hanging up clothes anyway.

“Why aren’t you with Soonyoung and the others?” Jihoon asks after a few minutes of closing up songpyeon skins. “Someone has to prepare snacks. Besides, why pray to the ancestors when you’re about to join them anyway?” Eunhae snorts.

“You sound like Soonyoung,” Jihoon remarks offhandedly. Eunhae tries to hide a smile, but Jihoon notices anyway. “What’s so funny?”

“You know,” Eunhae says. “They say if the songpyeon you make is pretty, your future children will be, too.” Jihoon narrows his eyes at her. “And you’re telling me this because…?”

“You keep bringing Soonyoung into the conversation. I know you’re in love with him. You’re going to be a good grandson-in-law. My grandchildren are going to be very pretty, too.”

If only it was that easy to gain the rest of the family’s love.

Soonyoung’s family seems to hate him with a burning passion, his mother even more so. When Jihoon presents her with 2 million won’s worth of red ginseng, she merely sniffs and tells him to put it aside.

Nothing major happens until dinner though.

The kids—five in total—sit in a circle around Soonyoung, listening with rapt attention as he tells them stories of him living in Seoul. Jihoon sits awkwardly outside the circle, pretending he’s working on a piece of music on his laptop when he’s actually just admiring how Soonyoung’s face lights up when he tells a particularly funny story while Byeol naps on his lap.

“Your Jihoon hyung here is a composer and producer,” Soonyoung proudly says. Six pairs of eyes land of him, and he blushes, stuttering now he’s been found out. “U-uh, yeah—yes, I am?”

One of the kids, a pre-teen girl that seems infatuated with Soonyoung, scoffs. “I bet his music is crap,” she says. Soonyoung gasps, “Chaeyoung! That wasn’t nice. Apologise.” Jihoon smiles at Soonyoung even though he feels a little like crying, “It’s fine.”

At that moment, Eunhae comes to his aid unwittingly. “Dinner’s ready,” she calls from the kitchen.

“Woozi, sit next to me,” Soonyoung whispers, clutching onto Jihoon’s sleeve. Jihoon smiles. It’s so like Soonyoung to see that he’s hurt, even if he hides it. “Of course.”

“Who’s Woozi?” Mrs. Kwon who appears on the other side of Soonyoung, interrupts their conversation. “Ah, it’s just a nickname of Jihoonie’s,” Soonyoung says cheerfully. “It’s his stage name.”

“Well, would you be kind enough not to use it? This is supposed to be a family dinner. Not your performance.” The way she stresses family makes it clear that she doesn’t think Jihoon as part of theirs.

“Mom—,” Soonyoung says, but is cut off by Jihoon. “Then you won’t mind if I don’t eat with you guys, right?” Jihoon says bitterly. “On the contrary, I would love it that way,” the woman sneers.

It looks odd on her otherwise elegantly aging face.

Once Jihoon storms outside, leaving only Soonyoung and his mother, he finally cracks. “Mom,” Soonyoung says, dead calm. The middle-aged woman sighs, whirling around to meet her son’s burning gaze. “Don’t use that tone with me, Soon—” Soonyoung interrupts her.

“Jihoon didn’t even do anything! Why do you hate him so much?” “Soonyoung, I only want to protect you—” She tries again, to no avail. Soonyoung is livid, stabbing her where it hurts with words. “You’re not protecting me when you hurt me and the person I love, mom! He’s not dad—”

“You will not speak of that man under this roof, Kwon Soonyoung.”

It’s her turn to use that voice, and Soonyoung wonders for a split second if he got it from her. Soonyoung bats the thought away—now’s not the time. “You know your goddamn problem, mom? You can’t let go of the past—not everything that happened to you will happen to me alright? The world isn’t some damn repetition.”

His mother tries to say something, but Soonyoung continues. “Jihoon has been nothing but the poster child. He’s trying so desperately to prove himself—he spent a fortune on everyone’s gifts; hell, he hasn’t even cursed the entire day—but you won’t even look at him twice.

He set a steely gaze on his mother’s shell-shocked face.

“Lee Jihoon is a wonderful boyfriend, and an even better person. You are in no position to judge him.”