feel so bad.

“Omma, Appa, I’m home!” Hoya announced, removing his shoes as he entered the small household.

“I’m in the kitchen, sweetheart.” He heard his mother call out. He dropped the bag and walked in, placing a kiss on her cheek.

“Where’s Appa?” he questioned, as he picked up an apple from the basket and took a big bite. The crisp and tart taste lingered in his mouth after he swallowed which made him smile.

“In the living-room probably watching the game,” she answered, stirring the stew she was in the process of making. Hoya nodded and vanished to where his father was.

At the doorway he could see his father in front of the screen and indeed he was watching a soccer game like he normally did when he had free time. Hoya sighed and walked to his father. He stood between him and the screen and crouched down in front of the wheelchair Mr. Lee was seated in.

“Appa, I finally mastered that shot.” He narrated, softly. However his father’s eyes were stuck onto the screen and he wasn’t saying a word. “It was perfect. I did it in one try, you should have seen it. You would have been proud.”

Finally, Mr. Lee’s eyes wandered to his son. He blinked and remained silent. Hoya plopped onto the carpet and crossed his legs; he inhaled deeply and stared at his father. “I played with a girl, appa. She was pretty good, too bad she’s annoying and likes to please people a lot.” He scoffed. Mr. Lee tilted his head a little and Hoya smiled.

“I think that’s enough about my day. Why don’t we watch this game together?” Hoya questioned. He knew there was going to be no answer but it felt right talking to his father that way. Maybe if he kept speaking to him casually, things would go back to normal.

He stood up, brushed his pants and pulled up a chair next to his father. Again, Mr. Lee’s eyes fell to the screen while his son was watching him, admiringly. Hoya’s hand found his father’s as he squeezed onto for reassurance. “I’ll accomplish your dreams for you one day,” he whispered.

The two of them spent the evening quietly watching the game. Every now and then Hoya would make comments and remarks, interacting with his dad. “Wah appa, did you see that pass?” He ou-ed and he ah-ed while Mr. Lee remained passive and unresponsive.

Mrs. Lee rested against the doorframe and smiled softly. “That’s a good boy,” a tear slid down her cheek as she quickly wiped it away. “Howon-ah, bring your father to the table. It’s dinner time.”

“Hold on, omma. The game is over in five minutes.” He replied. Mrs. Lee chuckled and left to set up the table. She had four plates ready and then their landline rang. She used her apron as a napkin before answering the call.

“Yeobsayo, ah you won’t be able to make it for dinner? It’s okay, I’m sure he will understand. Don’t work too hard and be safe.” Mrs. Lee spoke before she ended the call. She spun on her heel to see Hoya pushing his father in.

“Who was that?”

“Halmeoni,” she replied as her chest dropped. Hoya locked the breaks on the wheelchair and frowned.

“She’s not coming again, is she?” Mrs. Lee shook her head as a response. She took a seat next to her husband as Hoya sat across from them. He stared at the empty chair and sighed.

The food sprawled on the table consisted of nothing but vegetables and tofu. The only thing that had any type of meat was the stew. Yet, Hoya didn’t mind. He lifted his chopsticks and began to eat. Although the food was slightly bland, he didn’t complain. He was grateful enough for having a roof over his head, food in his stomach and a loving family. Mrs. Lee scooped more soup for Hoya and continued to feed her husband.

“Eat a lot okay, Howon-ah.” Hoya swallowed his food and nodded.

“You too, omma, appa.” He chimed. You too Halmeoni.

“Agasshi, it’s time for dinner.” The head-maid announced. Miyoon leapt off the couch and raced to the table, beating Myungsoo. When she arrived, she was stunned to find it empty. The table wasn’t empty, there were plenty of food but the seats surrounding it were.

“Where’s everybody?” she asked, taking her seat.

The head-maid sighed and poured them water. “Your parents went to watch the opera and your brother is having dinner at Luhan’s. They will return later.”

“Andwae, so none of them are coming home?” Miyoon gaped. The elder shook her head. “Then are we supposed to eat all of this?” this time the elder nodded. “This is too much for us to eat though!” Aigoo, why did they have to make so much food if it's only Myungsoo Oppa and I?

“Whatever you don't finish, we'll throw it away.” she pointed out. “But that's wasting good food.” then she looked at Myungsoo who was wiggling his brows.

She stared and then smiled. “Sunbaenim, how many workers are still here?”

The maid tapped her chin, “At least five or six.”

“Have they eaten yet?”

 “We'll be eating once you're done, Agasshi.” she told.

“No need, you guys can eat with us!” Miyoon beamed, clapping.

“That is not allowed, we are the employees. I know you're being kind but—”

“No buts sunbaenim. Think about those with no food, would it be fair for us to throw this out?” Myungsoo cut in. The head-maid debated about it but then her young miss had already dragged her into a seat while her accomplice went and gathered the rest of the workers.

No one moved a muscle as they all sat there, silently. The two youngsters exchanged glances and pouted.

“Let's eat!” Myungsoo suggested as he began. Miyoon followed suit but none of the maids or butlers complied.

Miyoon looked at the senior, “Sunbaenim, why aren't you eating?”

“I told you before, Agasshi. We are nothing but workers. It's already too much that we're sitting at this table. If we were to eat we'd be crossing boundaries.” she explained, wisely.

“Is that so?” Miyoon’s lips tugged downwards. But soon an idea drifted into her mind. “Wait, if you say you are only workers… that means I’m sort of like your boss, right?”

“Agasshi, you aren’t sort of like our boss. You are our boss.” She answered, professionally.

The young girl grinned then composed herself. She cleared and sat up straight. “Then as your boss, I demand that you eat. Workers are people too, right? So shouldn’t you