Sehun eyed the chaos, looking down through the huge glass window. He sighed, moving away in case they catch sight of him and point their cameras. He didn't want to hide behind closed doors and bulky security guards. While his lawyer suggested methods for him to turn down the accusations, Sehun could only wonder how Sarang was coping up with this sudden blow-up.
There was a strong urge to see his daughters. Sehun paced around the room with impatience as the man kept blabbering things that didn't reach his ears. He clicked his tongue, "Dial for Uncle Jihoon, Yoojin," he spoke, shutting the lawyer up.
Yoojin nodded, taking a hold of the telephone on the desk, noisily pushing the buttons. Sehun sighed, gulping with frustration. There really was no definite answer to when he would be able to get out of this place. Sehun was way past the stage of wondering why the hell they were in his business. He was in that stage where he knew that they would never stop wanting to be in his business.
"Sir, he is unreachable," Yoojin informed him. Sehun bit his lips, going back to the huge crowd he could see from his window. Moving away in a flash when he once again realized it could be dangerous. He thought he should be out there already. That he should put these reporters back to where they belong and remind them their place. Because his personal life was his and no one could tell him what to do.
While their job was to inform people of what was going on, Sehun knew them well. Their language was extremely subjective and didn't seem as if they were speaking from an unbiased view at all. Sehun could go on and on about why he hated the press. He simply didn't see a reason to explain his actions to anyone. Why did they bother?
Above all, he was confused about how these papers came out to the world when Mrs. Bae had promised to not let another soul know about this. And Sehun had felt like he could trust her, he regretted with a sigh. His uncle did so and therefore it was okay to trust her, Sehun had thought. Sehun felt dizzy all of a sudden, felt like the world was coming for his head and there was no one he could put his faith in.
Something didn't feel right. Sarang fluttered her eyes open again. In the dark, she couldn't much make out anything. The pattern of her room was swirling around her. She felt dizzy and was thirsty. The night seemed would last too long. The moon wasn't shining on her veranda, splashing its rays like it would on a good night. She sat up slowly, finding no difficulty in it despite feeling dizzy. It was her low blood pressure, Jaehyun had said.
It could be true, Sarang thought as she made her way out to the veranda. Little potted plants lined the railing. She had planted them some months ago and they were dead now. Of course her cousins haven't taken care of them. They couldn't even take care of themselves yet. A pair of her nail polishes was gone and Sarang wondered why Hyuna hadn't hoarded all of them. Her wardrobe was not really what she had left behind and Sarang wondered if her cousins had snuck in to steal her dresses since Mrs. Ahn had said there was tight security around her room.
Nobody really knew how Sarang wouldn't care if they did take her belongings away, how the only thing she yearned for right now was to not be lonely. She silently sat down, leaning her head against the railing, silently eyeing the garden through the gaps. Her mother's garden. Sarang remembered she had once caught her parents dancing right there one night. She remembered it was her mother's birthday and and her mother was crying because she was so happy.
Sarang could still see them. Sarang wanted to call out to them, ask them why they had to go like that. If only she was granted another day with her Mom and Dad, oh what would she not give for that one day. Tears welled up in her eyes. There were no stars in the sky tonight. Nothing she could look up to. It was all so sad, so quiet, so lonely.
By the next minute, Sarang was crying in hysterics, hugging her knees to herself tightly because that was all she could hug tonight. She only had herself. Not a single soul heard her cry. Sarang felt hands tighten around and could feel herself choking. It was frustrating to be where she was when she could be hundred times better. Her life had barely started but she felt like already giving up. Tonight was the hardest night and she didn't know why.
It was like her head was being torn into pieces, tortured as it bled. Lonely used to be an abstract idea in this house. She had her parents, they had her and in between there were silent promises of letting her watch them get their silver hair, wrinkles on wrinkles. Sarang wondered, what had they done wrong? Or perhaps they were taken away from her for good. Perhaps she hadn't been the good daughter.
First it was the shock, the anger, the despair. It takes so long to arrive at acceptance, the final stage the counselors long to scrawl into their notes. It isn't much of a destination though. It's an empty train station, no people, no trains, nowhere to go. It's like falling back and letting things happen, never really investing oneself into what was going on but just letting it happen.
She remembered sitting right where she was as her mother tied her hair. And then she'd kiss her goodbye and Sarang would whine about not wanting to go to school tugging at her apron. Her father would take her out on fishing adventures and Sarang remembered their trip to Hawaii on her 8th birthday when she learned to swim from him. They had been so happy. Despite being only three in this enormous house, every corner rang with laughter, every second had ticked by with smiles in the air. Sarang felt the strong tug at heart. If she was left alone for even an hour, she thought she could go berserk.
Returning to her room, she desperately searched for her phone. Sarang was so scared to be lonely. She thought she would be alright but she was wrong. Her shaky finger pressed on his name, her tears blurring her vision. It was as if she didn't deserve to be happy at all. Every happiness that she sought out was seized from her with cold hands. She wondered how Minji was doing in her daycare. She remembered him saying she was making friends but perhaps he had said that to make her feel better. She wished Minhye didn't come to the assumption that she didn't deserve a mother. She would give everything to go back. But she had nothing.
Sehun silently took a seat at the last row. The Sunday mass was still going on. He ed his blazer, patting his pocket to feel the two silver bands inside. He was happy today. He hadn't been this happy in a while. Even though he had just been kicked out of his house the day before, nothing could suppress this happiness inside him. He couldn't wait to get married.
He would find a job, work day and night. They would live in a little house. She would decorate it herself and they would call it their home. And his daughter, he had plans for her too. She would get the best of the best because that's how hard her parents will work for her. They'll be a little family of three. And they will live happily ever after. Sehun will hold this grudge against his parents. And he hoped that would always keep him and his family away from them. He will protect them. He was old enough.
The crowd dispersed before him. The clock struck eight. Sehun impatiently tapped his feet. Perhaps it was Minhye crying, keeping Joohyun from being here on time. Perhaps she was taking her time to dress up for her wedding. Sehun decided not to call her and let her take her time. There was no haste today. There never was a haste. Sehun thought they had taken their sweet time to come to where they were. Joohyun was all he had