Two empires, both similar in prestige

In the fair city of Seoul, where we lay our scene

An old grudge healed by new matrimony

Where two are hand in hand

Do with marriage bound by their parents

A pair of crazy, psychotic, and stubborn killers

Born by rivalry

Fall in love

Kim Junsu

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From the moment Haera was born, it was as if my existence had been completely erased. Father admired her, trained her, and worshipped her whole being. He’d taught her how to hold a gun, taught her how to eliminate any kind of emotion, hell, he taught her how to be exactly like him. Shivers spiral through my body, as I remember those times when he would turn his eyes to me and it was as if everything around me would freeze, and the hatred in his eyes would engulf me. Father resented me, and I never knew why. I tried my best, trying to gain the skills and precision Haera had and I lacked. I tried years and years again, to prove my worth, but never succeeded because he refused to take his gaze away from his prodigy. I complied with every ing command, every ing order, and every ing thing he spat at me with no complaints yet, there’s Haera, still placed on the highest pedestal, being praised for her good-for-nothing self.

I watch my sister’s shadow creep behind her, following her down the altar as she slowly walks to her future; to my throne. A sense of nausea sets in my throat, as I watch her excruciatingly slow strides, her arm entwined with my father’s. The worst part was, I knew she didn’t even want to marry this Exo Clan piece of . She was never willing to marry, but she knew she had to in order to inherit the empire. This was all a ing act that everyone was falling for.

My hands start to sweat, indicating my further irritation as she takes her final steps to the end of the aisle, now standing in front of Kim Jong-in, another piece of that doesn’t deserve to be a Boss. My father takes Haera’s hand and gives her a reassuring squeeze, as if he were telling her, “This is the right thing to do,” and all I wanted was to shoot both of them right through the ing skull. He offers Haera’s hand to Jong-in, and hand-in-hand, the two future heads of the Exo and Kim step onto the last step of the altar, in front of the white clad priest.  Father turns toward my direction, his eyes shifting cold right when I come into view. He walks towards my front row seat and takes his seat to my right.

The priest clears his throat and lifts his right hand, indicating the start of the show. He offers a warm smile, the wrinkles on his face shift.

Everyone stands with no command. I heave a bored sigh and stand, an