« THE BEGINNING  »

Being born from a well-off family has its own perks. I was provided with everything that I needed: food, clothes, and having a strong sense of security. But it still has its downside, especially when you live in a strict household - like mine. 

At first, I thought it was normal for parents to guide their children, deciding for them what they should and shouldn’t do. I assumed they’re trying to lead us to the right path. But I soon realized they were doing it to boost their ego, to let the others know that they did a fantastic job at raising their children.

When they started going against my own choice, I knew I wasn’t in control with my life anymore. As my dad says: “My house, my rules”. 

And I knew I’ll live the rest of my life pleasing them. 

“Can you come by the house later?” I re-read the text, raising an eyebrow in confusion. 

“Who’s it from?” As a nosy friend, Wendy peeked on my phone screen and in a matter of seconds, she bore the same expression as me. “Today’s tuesday. Isn’t it too early for your weekly family dinner?” 

When I started going to college, I convinced or more like begged my parents to let me stay in a dorm near the university because I know that was the only way I could have at least a bit of freedom for myself. But on one condition, they wanted me to come and have dinner with them every friday night. I knew they wouldn’t let me off that easy. So instead of having an awesome weekend night drinking with my friends, I was forced to have a dreadful dinner every week.

“Did you fail another exam?” Johnny joked from across the room. I rolled my eyes at him and hurled a throw pillow straight at him but was quick enough to dodge it thanks to his fast reflex. 

Johnny gasped, “You almost ruined my hair! It took me 30mins to style it.” He ran up to the mirror, checking for any loose tendrils. 

“I guess you won’t be coming with us to the party then.” Wendy pouted, realizing that I have no other choice but to attend to the my mother’s request.  I felt bad for suddenly ditching them even though we’ve been planning for this night since last week. 

“I’m sorry, Wen. I’ll make it up to you next week.” The disappointment on her face was quite visible as I gave her a pat on her shoulder. I just hope my mom has a good reason for calling me over. I’ll definitely lose it when it’s about Buttercup not eating again.

……

“Good too see you, Ms. Song.” Mr. Han, our family butler, greeted as he opened the front door. From his stance, there was a hint of curiosity by my sudden arrival even though I assumed he would’ve known by now. 

“To you as well, Mr. Han.” I gave him a slight bow. Before I could asked the reason why my mother called me over, I heard a pair of heels clicking accompanied with rushed footsteps across the hall.

“Mari unnie, you’re here. I missed you.” Eunhae pulled me for a tight hug which I couldn’t return back as she had me lock in between her arms.

Mr. Han cleared his throat, trying to get our attention, “Eunhae, how many times do I have to tell you not to address Ms. Song by her first name.” His voice was sharp which came out as a warning.

She immediately took a step back, gasping in realization, “I’m sorry, Ma- I mean, Ms. Song.”

“It’s okay, Eunhae,” I patted