“Pretending not to be lonely, pretending not to be in pain. Pointlessly pretending to be okay, pointlessly pretending to be strong.”

Agust D, 140503 At Dawn

“Thank you, Jimin,” I said, reaching over to my brother and poking his cheek, “You always make the best soups.”

He beamed. “I try.”

“I think any woman would be happy to have you a husband,” I added, “Someone who cooks, cleans, and does his best to be a scholar? Not only that, a heart of gold too? The perfect package.”

Jungkook hid a smirk as I exchanged a look with Hoseok, before he cast a brief glance at the woman who was currently pouring more soup into her bowl of noodles.

Everyone knows our stepmother can’t cook to save her life.

She cleared . “I heard there was a chase in the market square today,” she said to no one in particular, “Does anyone want to claim responsibility for that?”

Hoseok pretended to gasp in surprise. “I wonder what happened. Eunji, since you know those ahjummas, surely you must’ve heard something, huh?”

I pouted. “I’m not sure, I was too busy gathering herbs and buying vegetables for our Jimin to cook with.”

Jungkook coughed, barely concealing the snigger he was trying to hide. “And I was too busy helping Jaehyun study for the entrance exam. I wouldn’t know, either.”

“That’s enough,” my stepmother chided, slamming a hand on the table, “I know it was all of you. Especially you, Hoseok.”

A hand fluttered over my mouth. “Omo, Mother, then why did you ask?” I asked innocently, “You made me anticipate a dramatic story in my head.”

That was the last straw, and my siblings began to burst into loud guffaws.

The woman’s eyes were irritated, and she pursed her lips as I returned her gaze coolly.

When Father first introduced us to Stepmother, we could sense that she was clearly with him for the money. I suppose, in her defense, she did not know that he lived his life scamming the rich and giving to the poor, and neither did she know that he had taken in orphans and taught them how to steal.

Perhaps she thought he was a rich merchant, living off the capitalist earnings and the labor of the ones in poverty. Perhaps she thought she had wanted to be a lady who rubbed shoulders with the upper echelons of society. She had herself been from a well-off family, and never worked a day in her life.

She already had Jungkook by then, and was pregnant with another child, whom she eventually lost due to a miscarriage, and the father of the baby had been some scholar who had left her to pursue a life in the Court. Scorned and disowned by her family, Father took pity on her and they soon fell in love. He later brought her to our village, and we never forgave him for it.

Specifically because she seemed to be pretty much helpless, useless and a constant thorn in our side. While Father travelled out of the village regularly with the merchants, helping with the smuggling of prohibited goods across borders, she was always spending on unnecessary things like pretty hanboks and bejewelled hairpins.

As if she were a young woman wanting to attract a man’s attentions.

Eventually she looked away from me, eating her noodles as she pretended to be unbothered. “Aren’t you getting too old to be a petty thief, Eunji? All these running and stealing is not going to help you find a respectable husband.”

I scoffed. You’re one to talk. “As the eldest, I think taking care of my brothers is way more important than trying to find a husband.”

“Your brothers can definitely take care of themselves. Jimin is studying to be a scholar, and Jungkook is a strong young man who can work with the village builders. Hoseok, for all his talents, is going to be a performer for Harvest Festival tomorrow. And what are you going to do, other than following the whims of your brothers?”

“Are you saying I am only useful if I have a man by my side?”

I felt Hoseok’s knee nudge mine under the table, warning me not to have another row with her. If there was something that my brothers were good at, it was avoiding family arguments; that was where the women of the household excelled in.

And I was stubborn enough not to allow Stepmother to get away with her insults and comments.

Sorry, brother. I will not listen to you where she is concerned. Not today.

“Well, Mother? What would you have me do?” I asked, “Be married to Taehyung, who doesn’t know a moth from a butterfly, and consent to be the good wife? That is what you want, right?”

“I’m sure your father would agree with me that you are of marriageable age-”

“Mistress Song is not married, and I’m sure she’s past her marriageable age,” I interjected.

“Jung Eunji!”

My brothers jumped, startled by her sudden screech, their eyes looking between my stepmother and me.

I could see two spots of color appearing on her cheeks.

“I told you not to speak of that immoral woman in our household,” she said, her voice low, a contrast to her outburst, “She is the scum of all seven hells, and if you think she is a measure of what it means to be a successful unmarried woman, then perhaps you can join her house of s.”

Stepmother hates Mistress Song with a passion we can’t describe. Whenever the madame of the brothel pass by us in the street, Stepmother will do her best to avoid treading the same path as her.

Hoseok says that maybe it’s because she’s jealous of Mistress Song’s fortune; the woman enjoys wealth like no other woman, and maybe that’s why Stepmother always hates her.

That, or the fact that even at her age, Mistress Song always makes the men’s heads turn.

I placed my bowl on the table. “Coming from someone who got pregnant out of wedlock, who are you to judge?”

Stepmother gasped, and before I could do anything, the slap came out of nowhere.

I felt the metallic sting on my tongue, and I spat on the ground, seeing blood mixed with saliva. My cheek burned, and I was sure that there was going to be a mark there tomorrow morning.

I definitely wasn’t going to hide it with powder.

Another reason to parade it in front of the neighbors when I pass them by.

“How dare you,” she said, her voice shaking.

I made sure to smile at her, even as tears of pain blurred my vision. “I would rather be a who earns money than be whored by you to the boys in our village.”

Jimin choked on his food, just as Hoseok’s eyes widened, almost comically.

Jungkook in a breath. “Noona-”

“Thank you Jimin for the dinner,” I said, getting up, “Pity that you have to cook for this family, when it’s perfectly clear who has to care for us children.”

Stepmother’s face got redder.

But I wasn’t finished. Looking directly at the woman’s face, I spoke.

“I will not turn my back on this family, nor leave it until I can guarantee that each of my brothers are well taken care of. You can try to force me into a marriage, Stepmother, but I assure you, when that day comes, my future husband will beg for mercy,” I said, feeling something warm trickle out of my mouth, “I will make his life a living hell.”

She said nothing; merely ignored me as she continued to eat, as if nothing happened.

I felt my lip tremble, and I walked out of the room, sliding the door shut behind me as I walked down the wooden steps. The light of the full moon was bright enough to illuminate the courtyard of our house, and I looked up at the dark sky, seeing the blanket of stars twinkling softly.

It was moments like this that I missed having Father around; he would never allow Stepmother to raise a hand to me. And he would never treat me the way she did. He would never want me to leave the house, especially when he doted on me the most; I was, after all, the first child he ever had, even if we weren’t blood.

“If there is a god out there,” I whispered to the moon, “Please, bring my father home swiftly. I cannot live without him like this.”

The Harvest Festival was the best thing that could happen in our village every spring.

Decorations filled every corner, lanterns were hung outside houses, and the markets were noisy with the various merchants selling their fair share of products. Farmers gathered their best produce, bringing them and selling them to the highest bidders.

The highlight of the festival was the games. Though I was no longer young enough to take part in the cart races, I was interested in watching them. And of course, Hoseok would be there, taking bets on who was going to win.

Despite my initial stubbornness at not wanting to doll up, I spent the whole morning picking out my best hanbok, and I brushed my hair, braiding it intricately as I had seen my stepmother do.

She seemed to be in a chipper mood today; we had gotten word that the merchants were due to return any day now, and I was nervously anticipating my father’s return. He had promised to bring us gifts, but other than that, it was his comforting presence I so desperately craved. It would have been nice to spend the Harvest Festival together, like we used to, but with him constantly travelling – smuggling opium under the guise of exchanging wares – it was getting impossible to spend time with him the way I used to. After all, we were a big family now.

My door slid open, and Jimin entered, setting a tray beside me.

“Thought you might like some tea,” he said, “I just made a fresh pot.”