Author's POV

Yerim skips over to the door, curious about what made Luhan goes completely silent. A tall lanky giant and a puppy-like guy stand on the porch. Her cousin and a guy she doesn't know. 

"What the hell are you doing here?! How did you-"

"It's training," Luhan sighs and ushers them into the house. Chanyeol eyes his friend with suspicion and glances to his little cousin. He's worried his cousin might've have gotten herself into a tangle mess of drama with Luhan. Luhan is a generous guy with integrity but his family is not one to get involved with. Chanyeol loves his cousin too much to allow her to get hurt. Yerim stands there, nervously as she puffs up her cheeks- one of her many habits when she gets nervous. 

"What kind of training exactly?" Chanyeol raises his brows at the two. Yerim blinks rapidly and glances over at Luhan for help. Being a guy who constantly tells himself to eliminate any trace of emotions, the latter maintains a straight face (for Chanyeol and Baekhyun, it's referred to the face).

"Since you're her cousin, you should know by now that she can't make desserts. If she's going to work for me, she should at least know the basics to help out in the kitchen," Luhan states a very convincing statement. Chanyeol's sudden burst of laughter suprises everyone.

"I remembered her last attempt to make chocolate for this guy she liked, from another department," Luhan sighs in relief that there was no holes in his white lie. Okay, maybe it's not a white lie.

Almost immediately, Yerim's face darkens and gets into stance, ready to pounce on the giant who is almost twice her height. Luhan steps in between the two with a scowl on his face. "Don't trash my place. Besides, we have business."

"Right! Let's go cook!" Baekhyun shouts enthusiastically and runs to the kitchen. Chanyeol's ears perk up at his best friend's word and races after.

"Move it, slowpoke. Did you not hear what they just said? We're cooking together. Try not to blow this house up," Luhan motions his hand towards the kitchen.

Cook together? That's something Yerim never experienced before.

Yerim's POV

I pull on my jacket and walk to the doorway where my aunt stands. "Where are you going?" She glowers at me and hisses in a threatening tone.

"I need some snacks for school. College gets me starving," I smile sheepishly. She doesn't peel her glare away from me and steps out the house mumbling about shameless freeloader in the house. Obviously, that was directed to me. I'm the shameless freeloader she is sick of and despise with all her heart. I waste her money and shelter under her roof.

I swallow the painful lump in my throat away and blink, retreating into the house. Head duck, I slowly return to my room, swallowing the guilt that wasn't suppose to exist. On the way to my room, my grandmother orders me to bring her food. So I did, quick as I could before I lose it. When I place the plate down in front of her, she grumbles and give her the same look almost everyone in the family gave me. It's the look that makes me feel small and insecure. The kind that makes me want to shrink into a microscopic size and hide away in a space where no one can see or find me. The look that sends shivers down my back and pierce my soul like it didn't matter.

I walk back into my room and gently close the door behind me. My hand finds its way to my phone, ready to ring my mom up and free my heart from the pain by talking but I stop it. I curl my hand into a fist and shove it away. The shaking won't stop so I bite it. The pain will stop it, I thought. But it wouldn't. The blood runs warm and keeps it moving. I want it to stop. The blade will. With a single slash, it'll stop. It'll remain rigid and never shake again. The gleaming object on the table seems to be calling out to me. Hold me, it says. Use me and it'll be better. So I did. 

The pain seems to take it all away, leaving me light-headed. The lively voices outside echo in the house. The sounds of knives cutting through the cutting boards rings in my ears. The laughter and joy from cooking together breaks the already broken me from the inside. It twists me up and throws me out. Something so joyous is tearing my heart. Year after year, the scars pile up like a never-ending pile of plastic piling on the earth. Slowly, it burns and destroys the earth in the most indirect way possible. It burns but it never really goes away. They don't biodegrade. 

The four spend the next 3 hours trying to make a cheesecake. Of course, this also does not end well. It results in a cream cheese covered kitchen and four breathing figure (taking forms of humans) with white covered clothing. It's a terrifying sight. Scarier than any Japanese horror movie. 

"Should we...reuse these cream cheese and heavy whip cream? I can scrape it up..." Yerim innocently asks Luhan. The color from her face fades as Luhan shoots her one of his I-will-f******-drill-you-to-the-wall-if-you-do-not-stop-with-your-stupidity. Behind the two, Chanyeol and Baekhyun start to away the cream like little kittens up the spilled milk caused by one of their oopsie-I-did-not-manage-to-do-a-proper-landing.

"That's enough. You kittens, get out. I'm asking you to simply place your on the floor outside. Not the couch. You'll dirty it. The ground is where your bums belong," Luhan kicks the two clowns out and turns to Yerim wi