It’s a nice day out. The sky is a brilliant blue, with thin strips of clouds drifting here and there. Acres and acres of lush, green, and well-kept grass sprawl around you. You can make out a lake from where you stand, its waters glittering under the sun. It’s almost peaceful. Almost. Then you hear a whack of a golf club. You don’t hear the follow through of a ball landing, probably because it’s already too far out.

“Dammit,” your father curses, not bothering to keep it under his breath. So much for peace. “What do you think, sweetie?”

You hadn’t really been paying attention. You never do, whenever your father drags you out to play golf. You don’t even play, really. You just hit the ball when it’s your turn, hoping your form and swing are up to your dad’s standard.

“Looks like a bad shot,” is all you can say. But really, you don’t care. You’d just assumed it was because of the expletive that he’d blurted out.

“It is.” Your father puts a hand just above his eyes and squints into the distance, as if the gesture makes his eyesight better. “How ‘bout you, boy? What do you think?”

Jaehyun — the ‘boy’ a.k.a. your father’s caddy — purses his lips before answering. He’d been your dad’s caddy for years and yet the old man hadn’t even bothered to learn his name. “Seems like a thin shot, Mr. Byun,” he says. “I think it’s gone OB.”

“Bah! It does, doesn’t it?” Your dad’s face crumples into a sour expression.

He’d been handsome once. You remember seeing a picture of him and your mother from when they were students, probably in college or grad school, and thinking that he looked a lot like Baekhyun. Now your dad just looks old. And bitter. And angry. Maybe he wouldn’t if he’d just smile more.

You wonder if Baekhyun will turn out like your father: a grumpy, withered man that forces his adult children to play golf with him because his wife had stopped paying attention to what he does years ago. The thought makes you shudder despite being under the sun.

“Here, boy,” your dad says as he stretches out his hand to his caddy. Jaehyun takes his golf club without a word, placing it back in its bag.

“Should I take out a different club, Mr. Byun?”

“Dear god, no,” your father answers. He doesn’t even try to hide his annoyance. “I’m tired. Let’s head back to the pavilion after my daughter takes her shot.”

Your dad should be nicer to him. Jaehyun makes a far better golfing companion than you do. At least he knows what he’s talking about. He seems genuinely interested in the sport, too.

As for your case, you don’t even acknowledge golf as a real sport. You despise it. Sure, it’s highly competitive when done professionally, but outside competition, it’s just a game that loaded bastards play when they have nothing else to spend their money on. Equipment costs a fortune on its own. Club membership is far more unspeakable. To top it all off, you find it distasteful how much space the courses waste. Why dedicate a good amount of land just so the rich can hit balls and boss their caddies around? Why not put that land to good use, like for a public park or something, instead of a gated patch of grass where people with deep pockets come to circlejerk?

Junmyeon would laugh if he could hear your thoughts right now. He’d point out how ironic it is that you hate the rich when you come from money yourself. Old money. University money. Education profiteering money. That’s as bad, if not more, as taking an area of land for the sole purpose of having rich s like your father scream, ‘Fore!’

Jaehyun runs up to the tee and places a fresh ball on top of it. You don’t even know if you’re going by or match play, and quite frankly, you don’t care. Your dad looks like he doesn’t mind, either. It’s obvious that he’d invited you here just for the sake of it and not because he wants to play seriously.

You approach the tee, look at the flag in the distance, and begin to visualize your shot. After checking your grip, posture, and footing, you whack the ball with what you hope is enough club speed. You turn around almost immediately, not giving a care in the world as to where the ball had landed.

Jaehyun rushes to your side to take the club from you but you ignore him, making a beeline for your bag sitting at the back of the buggy. You know that your father has made Jaehyun’s day horrible already. You don’t want to add to that by making him think that he’s your caddy, too. Besides, you like cleaning up after yourself.

“Let’s go, Jaehyun,” you tell him after you’ve finished putting your club back in its bag. “Back to the pavilion.”

“Right away, Miss.” You and your dad climb onto the buggy. You hear Jaehyun whisper, “Nice swing, by the way,” before he’d gotten behind the wheel.

As Jaehyun drives away from the course and back to the center of the Club, your dad asks you: “What have you been up to, sweetie?”

And there it is, you tell yourself. Here comes the interrogation Baekhyun had been warning you about. You prepare yourself to be stressed.

“Nothing,” you answer.

That’s the literal truth. You’ve done nothing since graduation, and you’d like to keep it that way for quite a while. You’ve been studying for seventeen years of your life; is it such a bad thing for you to want a break?

As expected, that isn’t the answer your father had been expecting. “Nothing?” he repeats. You know he’d want to hear about even the slightest of interests in a master’s degree. Maybe even a job. But nope. You’ve got nothing for him.

“Yeah. Nothing.”

“You don’t have any plans at all?”

“I’ve already told you my plans,” you remind him. Keeping your anger in check for this conversation is a lot harder than you’d thought it’d be. “I’m taking a break. From everything. Ask me again in a year or two.”

“Your trust fund won’t last forever. You know that, don’t you?”

It’s subtle, but it’s there: your father threatening to cut you off. It wouldn’t be the first time. Long story short, you’ve received veiled threats from your dad before. This doesn’t rattle you, not even in the slightest. You’ve heard worse.

If anything, he’d be doing you a favor. You’d never wanted anything to do with him nor the surname he’d given you, anyway. Trying to get by on your own sounds like paradise compared to living off him and having it thrown back to your face as if you owe him all that you are.

But you’re not in the mood to fight. The past few weeks have been too good for you to allow your father to ruin the happiness you’re feeling.

“I’ll keep grad school in mind,” you say just to shut your dad up. You have no intention of actually going, but that should keep him pacified at least for a few more months. You’d worry about him then.

“Alright. Are you in touch with your brother?”

“Sometimes. When he’s not busy.”

That’s true. Ever since that little stroll you and Baekhyun had taken in Marbella, you’d grown closer, if only a bit. It doesn’t make up for all the years you’ve drifted apart, but it’s a start.

“And Hye-ran?” You turn to look at him, startled at his question. “You should try and get closer with your sister-in-law.”

You have nothing against Hye-ran. You’re really just not the friendly type. “Do I have to? It’s not like Baekhyun chose her for himself, anyway.”

You know you’ve crossed a line the minute that remark had left your mouth. But if it has bothered your father, he doesn’t show it. “I think you’ll be an aunt soon. Better get on her good side.”

“S-she’s pregnant?”

To your relief, your father shakes his head. “They’re trying to be. I told your brother I wanted to have grandchildren before I died. I think he got the message.”

You feel sick to your stomach. Yet another aspect of your brother’s life controlled by your dad. Hadn’t he done enough? First their marriage, and now this? Do they even want children? Had your dense father even thought of that?

“Baekhyun’s only twenty-eight,” you say. Only five years older than you. Five years. You can’t imagine having children five years from now. You don’t feel like you’ve lived your own life enough to give life to someone else — a child that has half of your genes, a child that you’ll be responsible for. It’s too soon. It’s too much.

Your dad shrugs. “Old enough to start a family, if you ask me. He’s not getting any younger. Hye-ran’s not getting younger, either. Better get it out of the way as soon as possible.”

“Get it out of the way?”

“Having children,” he clarifies.

Huh. So that’s how your father views having children: a duty to do and to get over with. What a sick perception. No wonder you’d grown up loathing him. He’d never seen you as a child to be loved, only a marital responsibility he had to fulfill to his wife. A means to keep his name alive.

You’re disgusted, and you don’t try anything to mask that. When you still don’t say anything, your dad speaks up again.

“I know that you feel like you’re way too young,” he says as if he can read your thoughts, “but you have to think of the future. Your future. Think long-term. Baekhyun had been easy to… steer in the right direction.” You don’t even stop yourself from scoffing. Forced in a direction, more like it. Still, your father doesn’t let you interrupt him. “You’re more like your mother. Feisty. A lot of spunk in you. But, someday, that rebellious streak will put you in danger. Life is already unpredictable as it is. Don’t try to find trouble. Try to find stability.”

Stability. What a nice word to justify years of micromanaging your life and Baekhyun’s. It’s revolting, really, how your dad thinks he’s doing all of this for you and Baekhyun’s sake. Why can’t he just admit that the great Byun In-chul can’t be seen with even a hint of mediocrity? That everything in his life has to be perfect? It would’ve been better — bearable, if your father would just acknowledge that he’s doing this for himself more than he’s doing it for you or for Baekhyun. You might even feel sorry for him. Might. But no, he always has to be right even when he’s so clearly in the wrong.

You don’t want to hold this conversation any longer. You feel like crying, screaming, throwing up. If only it was possible to do all three at once. “Like I said,” you say through gritted teeth, “I’ll keep grad school in mind.”

Jaehyun nervously announces from the front seat that you’d arrived at the pavilion. Obviously, he’d heard every word between you and your dad. But you don’t care. He can gossip about it with the other caddies, too, if that’s what he wants. At least word will get out that Byun In-chul’s little family isn’t perfect at all, that his daughter can’t even stand to breathe the same air as him.

“One more thing,” your father says as he climbs down from the buggy, “Mr. and Mrs. Oh would love it if you met with their son. Sehun, I think his name was. Do you know him?”

You know where this is going. This is your dad’s ultimatum. Get your act together, his eyes seem to say as he looks at you knowingly, or I’ll marry you off like I did with your brother.

There’s no need for you to marry into a good family because you can’t pass on your surname. But your father can still very much make that happen, if he feels like it.

“No, I don’t know him,” you say as sharply as possible. You’ll never allow yourself to be pushed around by your dad. “I have no intention of meeting him, unless it’s nothing but friendly.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m dating someone.”

Your father arches an eyebrow at you. Is he annoyed? Or had that piqued his interest? Either way, you don’t care. It felt good to say that to his face.

Your dad gives you a nod. “Very well. Bring him over for dinner,” he says. “Let’s see if he’s worthy of my approval.”

* * *

“Sorry I had to drag you into this.”

“It’s okay,” Junmyeon assures you. He has that easy smile on his face again, the smile that tells you not to worry, that he’ll take care of you. “It’s good that he heard from you and not…” he trails off. But you both know what he was about to say.

It’s good that your father hadn’t heard from someone else.

That’s good as good can be, given the situation. You have the upper hand. Had your dad heard from another person’s mouth, you’re sure that you wouldn’t have been able to do any damage control. He’d simply take whatever information he’d been fed at face value, not bothering to ask you for any sort of explanation.

You hate your father, and you’d stand up to him if the situation would call for it, but you’d be stupid not to be scared of him. He can still very much ruin your life if he wants to.

Sure, you want to be free of him someday, but you want that day to happen on your own terms. Your own time. Your own defiance, not his anger. You want to make a name for yourself without ever having to mention your dad, but if you give him a reason to make your life more of a living hell than it already is whenever you’re in the same vicinity as him, you’ll never have that chance.

And if your father finds out what Junmyeon had been to you before you started dating…

Well, it’s safe to say that it’s not only your life that’s bound to be ruined. You’d have to think about Junmyeon’s, too.

“He doesn’t know,” you blurt out. In the small space of Junmyeon’s car, the words come out louder than you expected.

“Know…?”

You try to ignore the knot forming in your stomach. God, you hope you don’t throw up at the dinner table later. “How we met,” you explain. “That you were my professor at the university.”

“Ah.” Junmyeon doesn’t seem surprised.

Why would he be? You know that he wouldn’t really expect for you to go, ‘Hey, dad! This is the guy I told you about. The one I’m dating. Oh, did I mention that he was my professor?’

Your father would disown you then and there, if he wouldn’t die of a heart attack first.

“What should we tell them?” Junmyeon asks. “Just so we’re on the same page. Wouldn’t want to make rookie mistakes.”

You know what he’s asking, and you’ve been slowly easing into that topic as well, but it sounds so ridiculous to hear it from him.

Junmyeon is laidback most of the time. But there’s this aura around him that just screams good noodle. Maybe it’s because he was a professor — is a professor, if he still wants to be. If a university would take him. He still hasn’t applied to any, as far as you know.

But now he’s sitting there with you in the darkness of his car, asking what lie you should settle on to tell in front of your parents. You feel like a silly teenager all over again.

Of course, it hadn’t been that long for you. You’d just shed the teen suffix attached to your age roughly three years ago. For Junmyeon, it’s been more than a decade. You wonder if he feels as childish as you do right now.

“I don’t know,” you finally say. “I’ll leave that to you. You’re the one with a PhD in Creative Writing. You can come up with a better story than I ever will.”

That makes Junmyeon smile, at least. You allow yourself one, too. Who knows if you’ll be smiling after tonight?

You look away from Junmyeon and let your eyes fall on the big, ugly house sitting in front of you. Well, not ugly, really. It’s beautiful — a towering three-story home with dark red brick walls. Like a castle. There are ivies crawling around the windows and above the doors, but they’re well-maintained, obviously put there on purpose. It’s quite a sight to see. The ugliness is in the man that lives there.

You don’t remember the last time you’ve been home. Was it Christmas? New Year’s? You honestly have no idea. Your memory is already a bit wonky as it is, but whenever you go to your parents’ house, you try to erase any memory of the visit as soon as you walk out the door.

“Ready?”

“No.”

Junmyeon chuckles. You know he wants to ease both of your nerves somehow, but you’d sensed apprehension in his short-lived laughter. “Well, that makes two of us.”

You and Junmyeon step out of the car and into the house.

Your mother is the one who answers the door. Gracious as ever, she welcomes Junmyeon with a bright smile and a warm embrace. She’s the same age as your dad, but she certainly looks a lot younger. Perhaps it’s because she smiles more.

She ushers you and Junmyeon into the living room while the cook finishes up dinner. Apparently your father is cooped up in his study, making a few important calls. He’ll be out when dinner’s ready.

“Baekhyun and Hye-ran are running a bit late,” your mom says. “Traffic’s bad.”

“They’re coming?” you ask, and your mother nods. “I didn’t know that.”

You’d told Baekhyun you’d be bringing Junmyeon to meet your parents, but you hadn’t expected him to be there. With Hye-ran, even. You guess he didn’t want you or Junmyeon to feel too uncomfortable with your parents. Baekhyun has first-hand experience of having dinner with his partner beside him while his parents are sitting right across from them.

It’s a good thing, you figure. At least all the attention wouldn’t fall on Junmyeon.

Your mother makes small talk with him, but she doesn’t ask too many questions. Just the usual: what he does, what his family does, if he’s having any trouble with you — all of which Junmyeon answers with poise. Your mom doesn’t ask how the two of you met, and you’re thankful for it, but you know the question will come up sooner rather than later.

The sound of a car pulling up in the driveway disrupts the conversation. Baekhyun and his wife enter the house moments later.

“Mom,” your brother says when he finds the living room. He throws you a knowing glance and sends a nod to Junmyeon before your mother drowns him in a hug.

“I’ve missed you, darling. You don’t visit often.” You know your mother’s just teasing Baekhyun, but there’s a hint of sadness in her words as well.

Discomfort settles on your brother’s face, but it’s gone in a flash, as if it was never there. “I’m busy with the dissertation, mom,” Baekhyun answers. “And, uh… marriage.”

Before it gets any more awkward, your mom turns her attention to Baekhyun’s wife. “Hye-ran, dear. Beautiful as ever.”

She is. You can count with your fingers the times you’ve met Hye-ran, but she has always stunned you every single time. Her hair is now dyed a light shade of brown, almost golden, and it compliments her fair complexion nicely. Her brows, expressive as ever, wiggle with every expression she makes. As she stands beside Baekhyun, there is no doubt they look good together.

It’s too bad that they met under the circumstances that they did, all thanks to your father. From the way she and Baekhyun tense whenever their bodies get a little too close sends a clear message: they don’t love each other.

That would’ve been your future, too, if you hadn’t stood up to your father earlier today at the Club. You would’ve been forced to meet Oh Sehun, and that meeting would’ve eventually led to another loveless marriage. You’d be standing where Hye-ran is right now, clenching your jaw while the mother of a man you don’t love dotes on you.

And perhaps that possibility isn’t completely far-off. Your dad still hasn’t met Junmyeon. He’s yet to give his approval.

Hye-ran offers you a kind smile before your mom whisks her away into the kitchen to see how dinner’s coming along, leaving you, your brother, and Junmyeon in the living room.

“So,” Baekhyun begins, “you’re the famous Junmyeon.”

Junmyeon accepts your brother’s outstretched hand. “Just Junmyeon is fine.” His smile is genuine, you notice. He must’ve felt that Baekhyun isn’t a threat.

“Want a piece of advice about dad before you meet him?”

Junmyeon shakes his head politely. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I like a good challenge.” You’re not sure if he’s joking, but he does seem calmer than you had expected. Isn’t he nervous? Or maybe he’s just better at hiding it than you do?

Baekhyun laughs at his statement. “Alright. Suit yourself. Good luck.”

Dinner is ready soon after. You gather in the dining room where a lavish feast is laid out. The candles are lit and there are fresh flowers as the centerpiece, indications that your mom spared no expense in this meal. It’s not every day that her two children are home, after all.

You all take a seat. On the long mahogany table, your mother sits at the far end, parallel to the chair that would be your father’s. You and Junmyeon take a side while Baekhyun and his wife sit across from you.

One of the housekeepers walks over to your dad’s study, which is just right outside the dining room, and knocks softly on the door. Moments later, your father emerges from his study.

Your stomach roils at the sight of him. Clearly the anger you felt for him this morning still hasn’t quite subsided.

He pads toward the dining room, but abruptly stops. At first you thought that he was looking at you, then you realize his eyes are fixated on the person beside you. Junmyeon.

Your dad’s face contorts in confusion. “Kim Junmyeon?”

Junmyeon stands up from his seat. He bows slightly, and when he looks back up, he has a smile on his face. “Hello, Professor Byun. It’s been a long time.”

Now you’re confused as hell, too.

Your eyes drift back and forth between your father and Junmyeon.

How on earth do they know each other?

You kick Baekhyun under the table. Instinctively, he throws you a glare, then his eyes soften when he realizes that you’re asking for help.

Baekhyun clears his throat. “You guys… are acquainted?”

Your dad makes his way over to his seat, not taking his eyes off Junmyeon. When his confusion fades, he returns Junmyeon’s smile. “Yes, yes. I advised him on his dissertation in its early stages when he was a doctoral candidate,” your father explains. You detect fondness in his tone. “How long has it been? Seven years?”

“Eight,” Junmyeon corrects. He takes a seat when your dad does. “I got my PhD four years ago.”

“Oh my. That makes me feel so old.” There’s an exchange of laughter between them. But you’re still so confused.

Unfortunately, all your questions will have to wait.

Your father takes his napkin and places it on his lap, signaling that dinner can begin. He talks to Junmyeon, mostly — asking what he’s been doing since his PhD. There’s no point in lying, so Junmyeon tells him he taught at the university for a single term. Junmyeon conveniently omits the part where he taught your Contemporary Literature class, and that he’d been fired by the department chair because of a certain relationship.

“Why didn’t you stay?” your dad asks. “Why not aim for tenure? You have the talent. And the patience.”

You tense in your seat. Junmyeon doesn’t, still sporting an easy smile on his face.

“I wanted to, but I’m afraid I’ve received offers from out of the country that are too good to turn down immediately. I told them I needed time to mull it over.” That’s a lie. Or is it? Is Junmyeon telling the truth, perhaps, and he’s been hiding it from you? Will he be leaving the country soon?

“Ah, that’s a shame,” your father says. “You would’ve been a fine addition to the Literature department.”

Junmyeon offers him a polite smile, and, thankfully, your dad doesn’t press further.

Your father moves on to other topics for the rest of the meal. That’s good for you but bad for Baekhyun, as he’s become the center of attention. As you’d expected, there’s talk about expanding Baekhyun’s family. Baekhyun nearly chokes on his vegetables when your dad drops a hint of wanting grandchildren ever so casually. You don’t miss the way Hye-ran’s eyes turn distant.

Their obvious discomfort confirms your suspicions. They don’t want children. But clearly, your father wants it for them, and when did they ever have a say in their relationship? Their marriage was arranged. Your dad’s probably thinking that their children can be arranged, too.

It’s sick, you know. You feel bad for them. Truly, you do. Hye-ran’s younger than your brother — four years younger, to be exact. Just a tad bit older than you. You can’t blame her if, at twenty-four years old, having children would be the last thought on her mind.

The remainder of dinner is eaten in silence, save for the occasional remark of how good the food is. Junmyeon’s careful enough to be more vague with his compliments, as he’s aware that your mother had absolutely nothing to do with tonight’s meal. You’re not sure why, but she stopped cooking after you’ve left home.

After the meal, all of you retreat to the living room and enjoy fine red wine from your father’s cellar. You’ve never developed a taste for it, but somehow, you’ve worked through three glasses already.

Junmyeon, however, doesn’t accept a drink. “I’m driving,” is all he says when your dad asks why. That impresses your father, which is a big deal, because he’s never easily impressed.

Then the question you’ve been dreading all night finally surfaces.

“Sweetie, how did you ever manage to ensnare a man like Kim Junmyeon?” your dad asks you. The way he talks about Junmyeon… It’s obvious that he likes him. Junmyeon’s dissertation must’ve been superb for your father to talk so highly of him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Baekhyun shift uncomfortably in his seat.

“I’ll let Junmyeon tell it,” you say. “He likes telling this story.” You look to Junmyeon for guidance.

He chuckles. If he’s nervous, it doesn’t show.

Junmyeon makes up a story about how you two met a few weeks ago in an open mic at Communis, the small café where the folio usually holds zine launches. “She read a very beautiful poem that night,” Junmyeon says, “and I knew I just had to talk to her after her set. The rest is history, and here we are.”

You carefully observe your dad’s expression while Junmyeon lies. Your father’s face betrays no emotion, and before you can decide whether that’s a good thing or not, your mother snaps your train of thought.

“How poetic,” she remarks. She sets her now-empty wine glass down on the low table. “Two writers meeting at an open mic, and then falling in love over a poem.” She turns to you. “You must really love him, darling, if you had him meet us so soon after you’ve met.”

The wine suddenly leaves a bitter aftertaste in your tongue.

Love?

You have strong feelings for Junmyeon, and you like him a lot, but… love? Did you love him? That’s a question you haven’t even thought of, until this moment. And even if it’s been quite a while since you’ve felt strongly about him, the two of you had only been officially together for a few weeks. Isn’t it too soon to think about love?

You can feel Junmyeon’s stare burning through you. He must be expecting an answer. But you don’t have one, so how can you possibly give it to him?

“Dad wanted to meet him,” is all you say while offering a small smile. You finish the rest of your wine, setting the glass down right beside your mother’s on the table.

The atmosphere has turned more awkward than it already is. Thankfully, Baekhyun has keen senses; he knows when tension is building in the air. “And what dad wants, dad gets,” he says with a short chuckle. If you didn’t know Baekhyun, you’d think that this is just one of his jokes, but there’s a sharpness to his words that only you and him can possibly understand. “Isn’t that right, dad?”

Your father doesn’t answer.

“Thank you for dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Byun,” Hye-ran interjects to save everyone from a long, unpleasant silence. “But I’m afraid we have to get going. We have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow, don’t we, honey?” She looks at Baekhyun.

Baekhyun’s confused for a split second, but then understands what his wife is doing. “Ah, yes. The appointment. Right.” He stands up from his seat, and Hye-ran follows him. “Lovely being home for dinner. Thank you, mom.” He looks at your father. “Dad.”

“You’re not driving, are you, darling?” your mother asks worriedly.

Baekhyun shakes his head. “I don’t drive these days,” he assures her. “We’ll be off, then.”

“Make sure to keep in touch,” your father’s voice startles everyone, just as your brother and his wife are filing out of the living room. “Both of you.”

You notice Baekhyun’s jaw clench ever so slightly. Again, Hye-ran intervenes before things get out of hand. “We will, Mr. Byun. We’ll keep you updated.”

That’s when you realize that your father must’ve been really bothering them about the whole ‘I want grandchildren’ thing. Poor Baekhyun. Poor Hye-ran.

“Hye-ran, please,” your father smiles, “I told you to call me dad.”

Hye-ran returns his smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Dad,” she repeats. And then they’re gone.

Your father gets up from the sofa. “I’m guessing you two are going, too?” He sets down his wine glass, not bothering to finish the rest of his drink.

“I’m afraid so, Professor Byun. It is getting quite late,” Junmyeon replies.

“Very well.” Your father nods. “But before you leave, I’d like to have a word in private, Junmyeon. In my study, if it’s alright.”

Junmyeon’s demeanor still doesn’t crack. He’s still cool and collected, just as he’d been all night. It bothers you that you can’t understand what he’s thinking, unlike how he manages to read you perfectly. “Of course, Professor Byun,” he says.

* * *

The drive home is mostly quiet. As the suburbs disappear behind you, your mind also travels elsewhere as you try to make sense of the entire ordeal you’ve just experienced.

“You didn’t tell me you knew my father.”

You’re looking out the window so you can’t see Junmyeon’s expression, but you imagine that his lips must be pressed into a thin line because of how long it takes him to answer.

“I didn’t know he was your father,” he finally says, “at least not until Dr. Lee mentioned he was president of the university.”

“And you still didn’t tell me after you knew.”

“I didn’t expect to meet him so soon,” he argues.

Junmyeon’s right, of course. Having him meet your parents so suddenly was an impulse on your end, all because you wanted to prove something to your father.

“I’m sorry.” You turn to look at him. His eyes are fixed on the road, as they should be, but there’s a hardness to them that you can’t quite put your finger on. “Did he give you a hard time when he talked to you?”

Junmyeon thinks about it for a moment. “Not really. Not any harder than I imagined.”

“What did he say?”

You don’t really want to know. Or, more specifically, you’re not sure if you want to know. You understand that there are some things better left to the imagination. You already have a lot to think about as it is.

Junmyeon doesn’t look like he scares easily, even with your father, but you had to ask for the sake of it.

“What did he say?” you repeat when Junmyeon still doesn’t answer.

He glances at you briefly. “Don’t worry,” he says, a small smile plastered on his lips. “He didn’t tell me anything you don’t already know.”

What the hell does that even mean?

You’re curious now, but you don’t pry further. Perhaps it’s better for you not to know. Whatever they talked about, it’s between your father and Junmyeon. You don’t trust your dad, but you do trust Junmyeon. And you trust that he’ll tell you if something’s wrong.

So you just nod, even if Junmyeon can’t see, and look out the window again as the landscape slowly turns more urban.

It doesn’t surprise you when Junmyeon doesn’t take the road leading to your apartment. For the past few weeks, ‘home’ has been his place. It hasn’t been long since the two of you got together, but strangely, you’ve already gotten used to sleeping next to him and waking up to the smell of breakfast wafting around the apartment.

And, like always, when things are finally bright and warm and comfortable, you wonder when things will go wrong. They always do, eventually.

But you didn’t expect it to happen tonight.

When you arrive at Junmyeon’s apartment, there’s a woman waiting by the front door.

She’s dressed simply — in faded jeans and a white V-neck — but when she hears footsteps approaching her and she turns to look, you’re floored by how gorgeous she is.

Her long black hair is cascading in soft waves down her shoulders. There isn’t a dab of makeup on her face save for a bit of lip gloss, but she still looks otherworldly. Her skin is so fair that it almost looks like freshly-fallen snow.

Somehow, even before her name falls from Junmyeon’s lips, you already know who she is.

“Joohyun.”

Joohyun’s lips twitches into a smile. “I didn’t know you had… company.” You don’t miss the way she stumbled to look for a word to describe your relationship with Junmyeon. Company. Her eyes drift down to Junmyeon’s hand, which is intertwined with yours.

Your heart breaks when Junmyeon lets go.

“I wasn’t expecting you.” You have a feeling Junmyeon said that more for your sake than hers. “I thought you moved out of the city. What brings you here?”

Joohyun shrugs. “I was in town. Just wanted to drop by and say hi. For old times’ sake.” She looks at you, but you can’t tell if she’s sizing you up or otherwise. “I can come back another day if this is a bad time.”

“It’s not,” you say, mustering the best (and probably the fakest) smile you can. You turn to Junmyeon. “It’s okay. I can take a cab home.”

Junmyeon’s eyes dart between you and Joohyun. You can almost see the gears turning in his mind. This is quite a predicament.

“Are you sure?” he whispers.

You nod. You can feel your chest tightening. “Yeah. I’ll be fine. We’ll talk in the morning.” You tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek, making damn sure that Joohyun sees it.

You walk away before Junmyeon could say anything, and your stomach sinks to your feet when he doesn’t try to stop you.