With a gentle sigh, you closed the door behind you, your head pounding. It was a trying day, where everything was crashing down on you and you were just so so tired.

It had been a week since the boys officially moved in, and the days you had since then was filled with noise. You had to admit that it was a nice feeling though, coming home every day to actual people, rather than the empty house.

Your parents had insisted for a housekeeper to move in with you so as to see to your needs when you first moved out, but you treasured your privacy. It was after much negotiating with them, that both parties agreed to a compromise – to have the housekeeper visit daily to upkeep the penthouse only when you weren’t at home.

You had to admit that even though it felt nice, without the usual demands for parties and arranged dates, but yet it felt lonely sometimes.

You had gone back today, to your parents’ mansion in Apgujeong, Gangnam at their request as they claimed that it had been a whole month since your last visit and they were beginning to forget how their only daughter looked like. The visit had been a mistake, with your parents badgering you to attend their upcoming charity ball, and for you to find a date to bring along.

It was your duty.

They had claimed that as their only daughter, it was your duty to attend parties, socialise and to please your business partners. Throughout dinner, every time they mentioned only daughter or only child, you felt the urge to snap back, that you weren’t the only child, that you had an older brother, albeit illegitimate that they had conveniently forgotten.

The shallow part of you wanted to argue back with them, that as the largest two conglomerates, there was really no need for you to socialise with others. It should be others asking after you, rather than you going out to meet them. They needed you after all, and not the other way round. But you knew that was shallow thinking, for the company was what it was today, thanks to the people who had supported your family and placed trust in the form of shares.

“You should take up a second major. I met with the business dean of Yonsei yesterday and he agreed to let you study business part time, in addition to your medicine degree. You have to help us with the family business, you are the heiress of Lotte-Samsung after all,” they nagged as you sat quietly in a corner.

You didn't want the business, you didn't want the heiress position. All you wanted to do in life was to go to the hospital, visit patients, help others and maybe open a clinic of your own.

But your parents wished differently.

You knew that even though they agreed to let you study medicine rather than business, they always believed it was some temporary hobby, where after a while, you would find your true path. That you would one day wake up and realise your true duty.

But who took medicine as a hobby?

You figured that your parents finally saw how serious you were, and that they better find an alternative – hence the double major.

At that point, you had tentatively agreed, knowing that the conversation was going no way if you did not. But that had been a mistake, seeing as how they were beginning to get their way, they managed to convince you to not only attend the ball the next week with a date but to meet up with some guy they arranged for you.

After all, if you can’t manage the company, you should at least marry someone who can.

It was times like this, that you really missed your childhood, where you were free to do whatever you wanted, and meet whoever you wanted. But it was after Jongin’s parents passed away when he was eighteen, four years ago that your parents really changed. Your father had lost his best friend and it was at that moment that you saw just how fragile the power you had was.

In one night, you could lose everything.

And that’s why, at the back of your mind, you could see yourself agreeing with them. That it was all for the good of the company.

Reaching for the drawer in front of you, you popped two pills into your mouth, throwing it back with the pitcher of water next to your desk.

Amitriptyline.

A strong painkiller for anxiety and migraines. Shaking the near-empty bottle, you sighed. You were running low again. Taking out your phone, you sounded a message to Donghyun, telling him to refill your prescription again.

‘You shouldn’t take too many. The last time…’

The reply came almost instantly as you let out a short sigh, replying a short I know.

It wasn't that you wanted to take so many pills, but if you didn't, your head would pound and your breath would grow short, your heart beating violently in your chest. Signs of panic anxiety. The stress was simply too much at times for you to bear, and even though as a med student, you knew that relying on medication was not a long-lasting solution, you found yourself with little choice.

A soft knock came behind you as you closed the drawer shut, locking it with the key around your neck.

“Come in,” you called, hearing the door open softly behind you.

“Chae?” You heard a familiar voice behind you causing you to heave out a sigh of relief. The blonde (once red-haired) boy came into view as he shut the door behind him. Standing up, you moved to the bed, gesturing for him to sit next to you before he sat down lightly, the bed bouncing lightly at his weight.

“What did they say this time?” Mark asked softly, not beating around the bush – a trait he knew you appreciated. With a soft shake of your head, you just sighed. There was nothing much he could do, but in this world, he was probably the one who understood you best.

“The annual charity ball is next week, and they want me to bring a date. And