Guys this version is so good. It just gets them feels going you know?

Chapter 46: Ophelia

Hamlet: You should not have believ'd me; for virtue cannot so 
inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of it. 

I loved you not.

Ophelia: I was the more deceived.

Naeun does not remember much of Seoul. She doesn't want to.

She remembers the bright lights of Gangnam though. The tall glass buildings dark in the night. All life seeping away into the quiet of their own homes. The Son mansion was far up some hill, as most chaebol's houses were-  tucked into some secluded part of the neighbourhood, guarded by a huge wall enclosing the building. The walls bordering the gates were covered in vines and shrubs. They were bordered by a pair of cherry blossom trees, now bare in the winter, thick roots intertwined in the grass.

As the gates opened, Naeun closed her eyes.

This was a nightmare.

At least she told herself that. But it wasn't a nightmare. It was real.

The car stopped in front of the winding driveway and Minho shot her a suspicious look.

“It wouldn't help your cause if you ran out now.”

“I'm not that stupid." She bristled and got out of the car. But Minho held her back, a tight grip on her hand.

“Whatever happens inside this house… I apologise for whatever I might be forced to do.” He whispered.

“Your words mean nothing. You know that.” She hissed back haughtily.

The house had changed a lot.The furniture had became more sleek, all white and black and smooth lines. It was not like the comforts of home she knew before. Gone were the floral arrangements and handmade quilted throws. The house seemed colder now. She wondered if her mother was hanging around somewhere, perhaps on the balcony.

“The madame is on her way. She asked you to wait in the gallery.” A maid informed them and Minho lead her towards a room on the upper floor where it used to be a store room but now the room was open and airy, converted into a mini gallery at the heart of the house. The butler whom Naeun did not recognise was feeding the hearth of the fireplace. Another maid offered her a glass of water.

“What happened to butler Kim?” She asked Minho.

“Most of the staff was dismissed after what happened… to you.”

“You mean they were dismissed for incompetence?”

“No… Just to make sure no rumours would spread.”

“So they were paid extra to keep their mouths shut?”

“Don't say such things so carelessly, Naeun. Your pain is not an excuse to spite others.” Minho whispered lowly next to her ear, sending a chill down her spine. He pulled away and went to stand by the door, eyes still trained on her.

“Are you cold, Miss Son?” The butler asked.

“No, I'm fine.”

“Forgive me for not introducing myself. I am the head butler here, Mr Wang.” He bowed formally to her.

“It's fine. Just call me Naeun.”

“Of course, young miss.” He excused himself and Naeun wandered in the bright room.

“What time is it?”

“Almost eight o'clock.” Minho answered. Naeun stood and wandered towards the hearth, finally noticing the painting above the fireplace. It was a beautiful rendering made from strong brushstrokes of oil paint.

“Isn't this…” She asked aloud but another voice cut her off.

“Mother hates that painting.” Naeun whipped around and was greeted by Kai, dressed up in a nice suit, black tie crooked, grinning or perhaps somewhat forcing a smile onto his face. He avoided looking straight into her eyes. As he always does.

Naeun glanced back at the painting.

“She should. It's me on a canvas. Or perhaps my mother. I never really did make it onto the stage.” She whispered the last sentence, he ignored it.

“It's Degas. But of course you can tell.”

“It's pretty obvious. The colours. The brushstrokes. The ballerina.”

“I didn't think you were that avid of an art collector.”

“I wasn't. But I do appreciate a few pieces for the sake of appreciation. There's not much difference in dance and painting, is there?” He said nonchalantly.

“That's gold coming from someone who took away both from me.” She said carelessly, malice streaking her tone.

“I didn't take away your art.” It sounded more like a question than a statement. Kai himself was always so fickle.

“No… you took away my freedom. Not that I had much to salvage anyway. And now I'm here patiently waiting for my execution.” She clasped her hands in front of her calmly, expressionless as she watched his reaction. He looked away from her and focused on another painting.

A painting of a women floating in a river, face serene, flowers swirling around her lifeless body.

“Ophelia from… uh…” Kai started, trying his best to shift the conversation.

“Hamlet.” Naeun provided.

“Uh yes… Hamlet.” He clenched and unclenched his hands uncomfortably. Naeun studied the picture, tugging into a smile, her eyes still sad.

“Ophelia went mad and drowned herself in a river after Hamlet rejected her and her father died. Even her brother was obsessed with her.” Kai flinched. She secretly enjoyed making him fidget like that. To make him remember his own carelessness. It was like a mouse taunting the cat.

“So… she killed herself?”

“Yes. Shakespeare writes the greatest tragedies. Though perhaps it's not as tragic as my life.” She said sarcastically.

“Nothing is more tragic than your life, dear. Glad to see you made here in one piece. Thank you, Minho.” A sweet voice chimed in. They turned to find Madame Kim leaning against the door frame, voluptuous figure wrapped in a black dress, hair pinned back into an updo. All red lips and white pearly teeth smirking at her. She had a necklace around her neck, of rubies that Naeun knew for sure were her mother's.

A maid held open a red velvet box and encased in the blue satin were the matching pair of chandelier earrings. Naeun's eyes narrowed as she put them on.

Serpent.

Naeun wondered how long it would take to strangle her by the necklace against the time that it would take for Minho to pin her down. She wouldn't win. But she could try.

“You told me you had a family emergency.” Kai snapped at Minho but the latter remained composed.

“Our family emergency.” His mother interjected.

“Mother.” His voice was exasperated, as it always was when speaking with his mother.

“She should be here for the spectacle. Your father insisted you were here for the… preceedings.”

“You mean the writing of his will whereby he leaves my name out?”

“Mother!”

“Though that does sound like fun, I'm afraid your father really did call for your attendance.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“I'm just being a good wife and following orders Naeun-ah. Unlike your mother.” She spoke so sweetly, dripping with venom.

“That was unnecessary.” Kai growled.

“I was just teasing Naeun dearest.” She smiled, dusting lint from his shoulders.

“Thank you so much for your hospitality.” Naeun drawled. She was not scared of the snake.

“Ah… again with that tone. We should really reintroduce you to some manners. No matter, nothing a little confinement can't fix. Minho take her to her room and make sure she stays there.” She ordered him, voice still sweet and light and threatening.

“Yes, Madame.”

“You can't do this! I'm not some pet.”

“Welcome home, darling.” She smiled cynically, eyes twinkling in the fire light.

Kai watched as Minho dragged her away, her eyes pleading him to intervene. He hated those eyes. And he turned away when his name was called. 

He was always the weaker one.

Naeun was confronted face to face with her own bedroom door.

“I can't. Isn't there some other room?”

“The guest rooms are being refurbished.”

“Then accommodate me in the garden shed for all I care!”

“I have orders.”

“I can't. You know I can't!”

“Naeun, listen here. You're not the only one trapped in this house. You think the people you've met today can escape this house? This family? We're all hunted here.” He spoke lowly, almost in a whisper; eyes steely and hands cold. Naeun stopped writhing against him and sighed.

She knew that Minho's stubbornness reflected her own. He was protecting her. But he was also asking for assurance.

“Just bear with it for awhile.”

Naeun nodded silently and stepped into her room.

Unlike the rest of the house, her room was left untouched. Everything remained from her old posters to the same clothes hanging in her armoire. There was no dust and everything was pristine, the white sheets white and the lilies by her bedside replaced by red roses, even the smell was the same.

It was like she hadn't left.

And the she heard the door slam shut behind her, followed by the lock clicking undeniably into place.

“Merde.” She swore in french before turning around and banging on the door.

“MINHO! MINHO DON'T DO THIS! PLEASE!” She shouted as she banged on the hard wooden door, though she knew it was no use.

“I'm sorry, Naeun.” He whispered on the other side of the door.

“MINHO HOW COULD YOU?!”

But it was useless. Naeun knew it was useless for her to even try. She was trapped now. She slid down the door frame and sat there  for a while looking at her room. Everything came back like a flood, the pain, the anguish, the hatred.

It felt wrong to be back. She felt dirty. Did I just sell my self away again?

She shook her head and picked herself up, dragging her feet to the bathroom, shrugging the woolly jacket she wore onto the couch. She glanced at her bed but looked away. I'll sleep on the floor. She thought internally. Naeun grabbed her bag they had put in her room and rummaged through her bag, she finds the bottle of pills puts it in on the ensuite marble counter top. She continued to rummage around her medicine cabinet and then on her dressing table and then her armoire.

“Of course they took away all the sharp items.” She sighed to herself.

Naeun went back to the bathroom and washed her face, the cold water stung and she noticed the bags under her eyes.

Coming back here is turning me into a ghost, she thought.

Naeun  the tap of the bathtub and thought of Ophelia and how beautifully she died, surrounded by swirling flowers.

“This is ridiculous. I'm leaving.” Kai slammed down his first flute of champagne on the buffet table.

“Already? But you just arrived like half an hour ago.” Soojung whined. Her hair was pulled into a slick pony tail and she wore an organza lily dress that she floated gracefully in. But Kai wasn't particularly focused on his fiancée.

All he had swimming in his head was the memory of Naeun's eyes, begging and pleading. Such eyes that haunted every waking thought of him. Those eyes would haunt him forever.

Even in his drunken state, he remembered her eyes, though a bit cloudy, he knew those eyes anywhere. And it hurt to remember.

“I'm worried about Naeun.” He sighed softly, turning away from Soojung.

“Eo? She's here?” She sounded appalled, he could tell from the higher pitch of her voice.

“Unfortunately, yes. She just came in from France.” His mother cut, beating him to the punch. She held her own flute of red wine, he didn't miss the annoyance in her voice.

“I see. Kai, don't leave just yet.” She whined and tugged his arm, that needy feeling making him impatient. But he wasn't looking for a fight with Soojung, not when he would be in such turmoil.

“Darling, don't worry.” His mother insisted.

He however felt uncomfortable. Something was just wrong. Her expression. Her hints at the gallery- of ballet, her mother, Degas… Hamlet.

“Sorry Soojung, I have a bad feeling about this.” He pulled away from her hesitantly, ignored the sharp glare his mother shot him and strode towards the elevator undeterred.

He drove like a maniac.

Something was just wrong. He felt the ennui in his bones. He quickly parked his car at the back and leapt out of the car, passing Mr Wang his keys.

“Good evening, young master Kai.” Mr Wang greeted him formally but Kai brushed past him uncharacteristically.

He entered through the back door, emerging in the kitchen. He found Minho sitting at the marble island, a cup of steaming coffee in his hands. He looked up from the cup when he heard the door slam.

“It hasn't even been an hour yet and you're back?” Minho raised an eyebrow.

“I didn't feel well. Where's Naeun?” He asked, breath heavy.

“In her room.”

Just then a drop of water fell into Minho's cup. They both looked at the ceiling where a patch of water was concentrated at the centre of the ceiling.

“Is the roof leaking?” Kai asked, alarmed.

“Naeun's room is above here.” Minho deadpanned.

“.” Kai cussed and ran for the stairs, Minho trailing not far behind when he reached her door he tried the doorknob to no avail.

“Naeun! Naeun are you alright? What's happening?” He shouted, ears pressed against the door and hands clenched against the wood.

“I have the keys.” Minho said, fishing the keys from his pocket and unlocking the door with clumsy hands.

“You locked her in her ing room?!” Kai exclaimed, red faced.

“I had orders.”

“You answer to me, Choi Minho!” He fumed, mad that he had no power despite having the highest authority in the house now that his father is in the hospital. Figuratively, that is.

“Naeun!” He wrenched the door open.

“She's not here.” Minho scanned the room quickly.

“Bathroom.” Kai whispered, eyes widening at the wet carpet near the bathroom. He threw the bathroom door open and made a noise neither of then could interpret. It was a cross between a gasp and a sob.

But it sounded all so pained.

With the bathtub tap still running, overflowing till it flooded the small en suite. He could feel the water reaching his ankles.

And deep in the bathtub lay Naeun, eyes closed, face looking the most calm he had seen her since she set foot in the house. Submerged in the water, floating like some water nymph or… or… Ophelia; was his dear sister.

“Dear God, what have I done..” Minho gasped next to him.

His mind snapped back into place and he lifted her out of the bathtub. His heart was beating frantically and her hands shaking as he pulled her against his chest, not thinking of the water splashing everywhere. Her white shirt clung to her, he could see her pale skin underneath. So very pale. Her wet clothes were dragging her down but he pulled her even closer, breath shallow from worry.

“Naeun. God Naeun, can you hear me?” He whispered, his breath creating clouds. Naeun's wet hair stuck to her skin and her eyes were still closed even when he shook her.

“Call the bloody doctor! Hurry!” Kai shouted at Minho who was paralysed by the scene. He awoke from his trance when Kai shouted at him and ran out of the room, eyes shaking.

Kai wrapped his jacket around her and cupped her cheek, worried of how cold it was. She was freezing, like stone. He pressed against her chest slightly as she began to cough up water, momentarily awakening, eyes fluttering before closing again. But he felt her frail pulse against his palm and he relaxed slightly, letting out a sigh of relief.

“I'm so very sorry.” He sobbed, bitting back tears as he buried his face in her neck, worried sick.

“Don't do this to me, Naeun. I still have a lot of apologies left in me.” He said as he carried her out of the bathroom, eyes wet, water splashing and hoping whatever pain had left her down into the drain hole.

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A/N: Its 2 am and I'm effing high on the 1975. I haven't been this drunk since 2012.

     I was gonna upload earlier but i accidently deleted this chapter so I was lazy to rewrite it. Sorry guys!

     This chapter is heavily inspired by Hamlet and theres loads of secret references to Ophelia, hence the title.

     It is dramatically emo now... yup this was all planned in my sick brain. since like forever.

    Happy reading yall!