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tarydarrington · 4 months

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Well into the night, Essek folds his hands at last with nothing left to say. Caleb’s study feels hollowed out, refilled to bursting with the ghosts of every word exchanged. There had been a lot of them. All carefully chosen, some shouted, all heated.

This isn't the end of the conversation, but it's the end of their talk. A satisfactory end to the first of many chapters. Essek takes a deep breath.

"Thank you for listening."

Across the coffee table, his mother folds her hands in her lap. "Thank you for your honesty."

As though this is the end of a business meeting and not the second most harrowing conversation of Essek's life, they exchange a polite nod.

He stands, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Allow me to show you to your room."

Hours ago, Caleb had retreated to his quarters to allow them some privacy. Much as Essek would like to follow, he will stay away while his mother is here. Whatever assumptions Deirta might make about their involvement would not be true—not yet, anyway—and he will not sour their uneasy truce with a misunderstanding.

“My quarters are there,” he says, gesturing to the door with the star carving. “Caleb’s are across the landing.”

He points out the rest of the rooms below as they approach the landing. The tower has been tinkered with over time; the rooms usually reserved for the rest of the Nein have become workshops, research stations, and other such spaces that have proved useful in their explorations.

Before he can lead her down through the iris, his mother holds up a hand.

“If I might impose,” she says, “I should like to read over the reports you mentioned.”

Of course—he had mentioned the Vurmas reports during the initial buffer of small talk. They would make their way to the Dynasty eventually, but reading them beforehand will give his mother a leg up. The first of many gestures Essek suspects it will take to make up for her silence.

A small price to pay. Until he had known for certain that the Umavi would not cut all contact upon learning of his treason, he hadn’t realized how much he had dreaded the possibility.

He turns away from the iris and toward his room. His mother waits outside as he slips in, leaving the door ajar behind him as he sifts through the stack of papers left on the table in the entryway.

“Pardon the mess,” he says out of habit, as though the space is not spotless. Caleb arranges this room from scratch each night; there is not so much as a speck of dust to offend.

It stops Essek mid-hover, then, to see his mother’s eyebrows raised when he turns back.

“Think nothing of it,” she says, and already the polite smile is back in place. “Tell me, do your friends’ quarters share the same design?”

Essek follows her eye line over his shoulder. Caleb has laid out his rooms as he usually does, all purples and stars and fine fabrics. An array of arcane instruments waits patiently on a table under the window. Essek's mother looks past it all and into the bedroom. He frowns. There is nothing terribly unusual there, save—

It's all he can do not to swallow his own tongue.

The bed. His mother is staring at his bed.

For a drow of his age to sleep once in a while is not unheard of, of course; particularly when ill, they are known to indulge. Be that as it may, Essek knows as well as Deirta that one would hardly purchase a bed for a once-in-a-blue-moon nap. It comes with certain implications.

It was not a purchase, Essek insists to himself. Everything in this room was pulled from the ether to make him comfortable. The logic is with him.

"Indeed," he says. "The colors are customized to suit us each as individuals, but the layout is the same."

This is the part where he pretends that he hasn't spent more than one night positively snug under those blankets for comfort's sake, and especially pretends he has not realized that the mattress is wide enough to fit two.

Essek’s mother is an intelligent woman. She will put two and two together: Caleb is a human, and a human unused to drow customs might make such a faux pas with innocent intentions. One tends not to think twice about habits that are second nature, and someone of Caleb’s background would not think twice about placing a bed in a bedroom.

Essek has done the same mental math more than once, with varying levels of desperation.

“Well,” he says, and presses the files into his mother’s arms with as much dignity as he can scrape together, “let me show you to your rooms.”

They make their way in silence down through the tower’s central column. Essek thinks auf rather than saying it this time; better, just in case, to keep the magic words from his mother.

He leaves the way to the front door open. She has far too much decorum to snoop during the night.

They touch down on the fifth floor. Silently, Essek thanks Caleb for neglecting to put a dodecahedron on the guest room door.

“These are yours.” He draws the door open for her, bowing his head as he gestures inside.

With no small swell of pride, he watches her take in Caleb’s handiwork as her head turns on a slow swivel, then sneaks a glance himself.

Strands of crystal drape the ceiling like a canopy of iridescent vines. Caleb has replicated perfectly the sitting room Essek had described, complete with his mother's favorite tea steaming on the low table. Everything from the molding to the doilies speaks to both the gravity of her station and her own personal tastes.

There is no bed.

The Umavi’s manners are immaculate. He knows, as she turns a smile on him that is barely thinner than usual, that he will not hear a word about it. He will simply be cursed with the mortifying knowledge that she has arrived at her own conclusions.

Perhaps, if he tried very hard, he could claw his way out of his skin.

“Thank you very much,” Deirta says, hands folded in front of her. “Please pass on my gratitude to Master Widogast.”

He will hold eye contact. He will hold eye contact and smile politely. It is perfectly acceptable for his mother to suspect that he—

“Of course,” he says. “Should you require anything, the cats will assist.”

With utmost grace and one final nod, the Umavi shuts the door behind her. Essek, hands folded behind his back, counts to ten before deflating.

The bed is just as they’d left it, when he finds his way back to his chambers. Essek lingers in the doorway regarding it for a long moment before sinking down on the edge.

The bedding is soft. Is this the sort of fabric Caleb imagines Essek would prefer, or the sort that Caleb himself enjoys? He runs his thumb over a seam, letting the thought settle in with a warm buzz. It feels less forbidden this time, and several times more dangerous.

He leans into both feelings, climbing the rest of the way onto the bed and under the covers.

Two floors down and two doors over, his mother is doubtless turning their conversation over in her head. She will spend the night picking apart his every transgression, weighing it against whatever sentimental value he holds to her.

Essek breathes out and turns his face into the softness of the pillowcase.

It smells like him. Like Essek himself—just the way it would after many days of use. Essek shuts his eyes, pressing his hands to his face as the liquid warmth of that realization makes its way through him.

Two doors down, he is increasingly certain that Caleb, too, is thinking of him.

His mother is in the tower. This is not the time to dwell on such things, much as his body would like to.

With a deep breath, Essek runs his thumb across the soft ridges of the duvet. His nail catches on one, then two, then three—he counts until his pulse begins to listen to reason, then breathes out. For now, he will take it as a safety net. Something to fall into at the end of the day when all else is uncertain. A soft place to land.

Let his mother assume what she will. It would be the least of his crimes she’s learned of tonight.

The threads of a Sending pull taut between his fingers, buzzing with potential. He takes a breath and lets it out.

“We are finished for the night,” he says. “Much more to come. My thanks and hers for your hospitality.”

He curls his lip at himself. Formality is not a leg on which he’s felt the need to stand in some time, where Caleb is concerned. His mother’s presence has him falling back into old means of keeping balanced.

“Sleep well. Perhaps with one eye open.”

Caleb knows him well enough to take it in jest. Essek lets the spell go, shutting his eyes with a long breath out.

Later, the memory of Caleb’s voice in his head as he sinks into the mattress will do him no favors at all.

“Glad to hear it went well,” he says, laughter in his voice. “I will have breakfast ready early. She will be impressed, I hope.”

Essek counts the stars on the ceiling. The pause stretches on for two constellations.

“Until morning, dear friend,” Caleb finishes. “Sleep well.”

Something warm unspools in Essek’s chest as the magic dissipates around him. There is more than one story in the tower that is only in the first of many chapters. The words to this one will be harder to find—but their writing, he thinks, will be sweeter.

---

a very happy, very late birthday to my friend @sosobriquet, who tossed this concept around with me many months ago 🍰💜

#happy extremely belated birthday friend!! 🥳#shadowgast #essek thelyss #mine #mn #essek #scheduled post i'm asleep

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silantryoo · 4 months

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BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — the last great american dynasty, pt 2.

jang wonyoung, throughout the years.

WARNINGS ; misogyny, toxic household, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, absent parents, mentions of affair families, hints of eating disorders, overworking, health issues, implied depression, imposter syndrome (7.2k)

hannah was just a name.

it was a combination of letters that the high schooler couldn't bear herself to recognize. she willed herself to read it as presented in front of her, but wonyoung had always been good at reading between the lines.

still, it didn't matter.

the name held good memories, ones that the young heiress should've treasured. the lullabies and stories that she cherished, the warmth and protection she had been engulfed in, all of it was gone.

good memories were for good people, perfect people. they were for people who kept their promises.

yoo jimin probably had good memories, ones that she didn't feel guilty about.

it helped that her half-sister stayed in the previously occupied room. it gave more of a reason to steer away from hyunseo's vicinity, despite wonyoung's desire to see the familiar layout.

wonyoung knew it would only anger her.

she had peaked into the youngest's room, the door ajar as western music blasted through the crevice. wonyoung had already been upset that day, her mother and father arguing about wonyoung's desire to join her high school's volleyball team. she needed to calm herself, to gather her thoughts and study, but hyunseo was making it difficult, blasting noise through the vents.

the wallpaper was different.

she was disappearing, just like wonyoung wanted.

(it hurt, more than it should've.)

it didn't matter. the young high school student had no time for grieving over her incompetence. her schedule had been filled to the brim with studies and practice since she had officially entered high school. wonyoung had little time on her hands, bouncing between studying and practicing in her free time.

it was a consequence of becoming perfect.

(wonyoung wondered how many consequences she could endure.)

the day after wonyoung had finished the final tryout, she had looked at the board, the official team roster was finally up.

her name was there, the very bottom written hastily as if a second thought. for once, wonyoung was glad to be last. she was glad to be there at all.

the young jang went home, eager to tell someone, anyone about her achievements. her mother and father, as usual, were nowhere to be found, but out of habit, she found herself rushing to her room.

oh.

the wallpaper was different.

hyunseo looked at her, eyes the same as their father's. before the youngest could speak, wonyoung rushed out.

hannah was just a name. she wasn't anyone.

wonyoung wished she wasn't just a name.

wonyoung had never played in a game before.

she had watched many on the tv in her room, juggling her studies and taking notes on all the events and mistakes that happened each minute.

she wanted to be on that screen one day, not as the leader or the libero, but as the ace, the outside hitter who scored all the points, who always seemed to play the perfect game despite not being so.

yoo jimin was an outside hitter, one who had a perfect family.

perfect.

"i have my first game next week." wonyoung looked at her food, hyunseo's head turning to her at her words.

her mother rolled her eyes.

"you got in?" wonyoung had gotten in a month ago. her father should've known that if he paid attention. "that's surprising."

she bit her tongue back, hyunseo's eyes glued onto her half-sister in awe. wonyoung calmed herself before speaking. she wasn't going to cause a scene, not when her father had just came back from work.

"so," wonyoung already knew the answer. "can you guys come?"

jiyoung and wonseok's eyes met briefly, and anyone who could see knew what they were thinking.

they weren't going.

"we'll see."

the youngest jang was proven right a week later, her teammate's parents crowded in a bunch on the bleacher, cheering on their kids. colored banners filled the area, and different players' names were displayed except hers.

disappointment settled in her chest, but not surprise.

she looked once more, scanning the crowd, a false hope still bubbling in her chest.

it was baby blue.

'go wonyoung-unnie!'

wonyoung frowned.

she asked for her parents. she asked for her family. she didn't ask for the affair child of her father to come, much less live under the same roof as her. wonyoung couldn't fathom the thoughts that were going through hyunseo's mind.

it was an insult to her, to the jang's. how dare she come to her game? she had no right.

hyunseo wasn't a jang. she would never be.

they had lost that day, wonyoung too angry to focus on what was in front of her. all she could see was the blue on the sidelines and red all around.

wonyoung didn't speak to hyunseo for the rest of that month.

time kept moving, but all the young jang could ever want was for it to stop.

her first season had ended two weeks prior, her official school training finally slowing down. there were no more long days spent in the gym, or sore shoulders and legs from overworking. instead, they had been replaced with gruesome hours at cram school, and an aching wrist from writing for hours nonstop.

the end of the semester was near, and wonyoung had noticed a slight drop in her grade.

she had to do well on her final.

the sun had already set, the heiress stepped inside her residence with a tired haze. friday was always a stressful day for wonyoung, her off-season conditioning and the weekly test at cram school lining up.

she needed food, and then sleep.

wonyoung took off her shoes, listening to the lack of britney spears blasting from upstairs.

her father was home.

"the ahn's told me you did well."

wonyoung jumped as she heard her father speak, his voice loud against the silence of her house.

jang wonseok worked late nights, even now, when his mistress was no longer with him. seeing him home before twelve, completely sober and talking to his eldest child in such a manner was whiplash to the young jang.

she collected herself, clasping her hands in front of her as she bowed politely.

"you watched my finals?" wonyoung bit back a smile, hoping that her true emotions hadn't shined through.

"i was busy." wonseok shook his head. wonyoung looked away. she should've known better. "their daughter watched it with them. why didn't you tell me you were starting?"

the young jang could feel the pride bubbling in her chest, her father's approval filling her with a warmth that she hadn't felt in over a year and a half.

she had worked hard to get where she was, adjusting her schedule to fit more practice and less studying, just enough to maintain her grades but improve significantly. wonyoung's coach had congratulated her progress, rewarding her with her hard-earned spot as the opposite hitter.

she was one step closer to being perfect, just like yoo jimin.

"i did." wonyoung tried her best to sound non-combative. she hated it when her parents twisted her words. "i told mom."

wonseok sighed. leave it up to jiyoung to forget. "your mother never told me anything."

wonseok had never talked to her this long, and the lack of interaction had become evident as the two fell silent, the younger avoiding her father's eyes.

wonyoung internally debated whether she should leave. perhaps her father had gotten tired of her presence. it wouldn't have been the first time, and she was sure it wouldn't be the last.

"how are your grades?" her father spoke once more, wonyoung's head shooting up at the sound. "are you getting along with hyunseo?"

his words left a bittersweet taste lingering in the air. wonyoung was partially elated, her father suddenly caring about her to this extent. it was what she had always dreamt of, back when she had been a child.

still, hyunseo was still his favorite, no matter how hard wonyoung tried.

"um, my grades are good." wonyoung barely stuttered out her words. "i'm at the top of my grade."

"good." wonseok smiled. "good job, wonyoung."

good job, wonyoung.

wonyoung always wanted to make her dad smile.

it was a name that she had forgotten, just like the shadow that used to linger next to her closet, holding a glass of water as it urged her to come out.

"who's hannah?"

the walls of the jang household seemed to echo it, chills running down the second-year high school student's spine.

"what?"

wonyoung could feel the memories, hazy and distorted, like an old vinyl playing on a forgotten record player. she could feel it, see bits and pieces of everything. she could see her crayons, lying on her bed. a familiar hum seemed to invade her ears, a lullaby.

then there was a casket, and a broken promise.

to love someone is to do the right thing.

wonyoung wasn't good enough to love or be loved.

"who's hannah?" hyunseo repeated her words, and anger flaring up in the young jang. "dad mentioned her, and-"

"he isn't your dad." wonyoung snarled, gripping the counter as her mother sighed from behind her. "you aren't my sister."

"i just heard-"

"then stop hearing." wonyoung had never asked for her in the first place. she didn't want another person ruining her family. "no one asked you to be here anyway."

hyunseo flinched, her head down as she nodded. the heiress watched as her half-sister walked away, most likely to the room that she had stolen.

wonyoung could see her mother shake her head, jiyoung's doe eyes staring at her with disgust. it was nothing new, especially as of late. it didn't bug the young jang anymore. she had gotten used to it.

still, it stung that jiyoung treated hyunseo, the product of her husband's affair, better than her own daughter.

"you need to control your emotions, before you hurt hyunseo." jiyoung's voice was stern, reprimanding. wonyoung almost laughed at how odd it sounded, like a mother scolding her friend's playmate.

hyunseo had everything she didn't.

"it's not your problem, mother."

jiyoung shook her head, and wonyoung hated how eeriely similar she and her mother looked.

"god, you're exactly like your father."

she didn't know why those words hurt more than they should've.

jang wonyoung had known the ahn's from the moment she was born.

her father had many connections being a politician. he had friends from all over the globe, from switzerland to hong kong. it didn't matter what their profession was. as long as it benefited the jang's, wonseok would treat them with the highest respect.

the ahn's were like them, the head of the family owning one of the biggest acting agencies in all of asia. it helped that they had lived in the penthouse two minutes away, and that their youngest daughter was near wonyoung's age.

yujin was a breath of fresh air, and wonyoung was glad to call the older girl her best friend.

the two younger girl's continued their conversation, ahn yeojin, the oldest of the two ahn sisters, keeping a watchful eye on them. she rolled her eyes, sending petty jabs at yujin. her parents had forced her to accompany the two teenagers in case her sister did anything stupid again.

it was a complete waste of her exam break before she had to go back to campus.

(yujin had broken her grandmother's china plates recently, their father cutting both their allowances in retaliation.)

hyunseo walked down, eyes hesitant as she approached wonyoung. the young jang was glad she had gotten the hint to leave her alone, hyunseo clearly avoiding her for what seemed to be weeks. she ignored the gnawing guilt that built up in her chest whenever she looked at her younger half-sister, replacing it with annoyance instead.

still, there were times were hyunseo refused to get a hint.

"unnie," hyunseo's voice was small, just like how the young lee felt. "can you help me with my homework?"

"learn how to do it yourself." wonyoung sighed. "you're a big girl, hyunseo, and i'm not your tutor."

"oh." wonyoung didn't know why it upset her to hear her half-sister's defeated voice. "okay."

wonyoung tried to ignore it, but the guilt seemed to overtake her. she watched as hyunseo walked back upstairs, her glassy eyes glued onto her paper.

english. wonyoung was good at english.

"you should be nicer to your sister." yeojin sighed. she turned to yujin, pinching the younger girl's cheek. "i would kill for yujin to go back to being that sweet and cute."

yujin blushed, her eyes going wide as she stared at wonyoung. she tried to push the older girl off, embarrassed at the thought of the heiress seeing her like this.

"hyunseo isn't my sister." wonyoung muttered, her eyes lingering on the stairs. "she's not a jang."

"you sound like your dad." yujin noted, eyes void of any thought.

yeojin let go of her cheek and smacked her head, the sight of wonyoung frowning enough for her to justify her actions. "ouch! unnie!"

wonyoung should be grateful that she was turning into a jang. it was what she wanted, to be the perfect daughter her dad wanted.

she paused. when did becoming a jang equal perfection?

yeojin sighed, wonyoung's turmoil evident. she looked at her younger sister, shaking her head.

"private school is melting your brain, ahn yujin."

yujin pouted. "i didn't do anything, though!"

"dad?"

jang wonseok was a busy man. wonyoung didn't know if all his flights were work-related, but she knew that all the papers piled on his desk occupied his time. she knew that from a young age, wonseok couldn't find the time in his schedule for her, and she continued to hold that belief.

jang wonseok stood outside her school gymnasium. he watched. he watched her.

wonyoung didn't understand why she wanted to cry, or why there was an odd feeling in her chest, one that she felt a long time ago with a shadow of person.

it felt warm, but it felt misplaced.

"let's go, wonyoung." wonseok's voice was stern, but he still managed to smile at anyone who came near them.

her father was still a politician before a dad, but wonyoung was still glad he decided to be dad today.

"you came to watch."

warmth and love.

it was all wonyoung had ever wanted from her parents. she had tried different ways of getting their attention, of becoming the version of herself that they had always wanted her to be.

even though she had found it in places where she had never expected, in the cracks and crevices of her closet, behind the shadow that casted against her wall, she had always wondered what it would feel like.

it felt wrong. it felt like she was undeserving.

maybe because she was.

silently, she followed her father into the parking lot. the different muted black and bone-white hues reflected from the sun and into her eyes. her father's car stood out like a sore thumb, however. it's clean, sleek finish emphasized the wealth of the jang name, just like all of the things that wonseok owned.

wonyoung could feel her father's temperament rising with each tired step she took. his patience was running thin and it didn't take a mastermind to figure out it was because of her.

she gets in the passenger seat, the slam of the driver's door making her flinch as she closes hers gently.

her father came to watch her, yet there was still a sinking feeling in her stomach, one that felt worse than before.

the car ride was mostly silent, the hum of the engine virtually silent as they drove.

"what was that?"

wonyoung didn't know what he was talking about.

"what?" she hadn't heard her father speak to her in such a tone, not since he found out that she had been playing well. "what was what?"

"that game, wonyoung."

wonyoung had hurt her shoulder during practice. she wasn't sure how it happened so fast, but it left her feeling discomfort every time she winded her arm back.

her coach had instructed her to take it easy for today, and wonyoung agreed. had she known her father would be watching, she wouldn't have.

why did he have to watch today?

"i hurt my shoulder during practice." wonyoung mumbled under her breath, playing with the cinnamoroll pin of her volleyball bag. "i usually play as the opposite hitter but-"

the car jolted, wonseok stepping on the gas, burning the rubber on his tires. his grip on the steering wheel tightened before he lifted his foot off, no longer accelerating.

she hated it when her father was like this. she would rather have her driver pick her up. at least then, she knew she wouldn't crash.

wonyoung wished he never watched her game.

"i'm not paying for you to be mediocre!" his voice was akin to a whisper, yet much deeper, and much angrier. "i'm not sending you to camps or paying for your physical therapy for you to play middle."

"i still played well." wonyoung tried to reason, slightly afraid. "coach said-"

"your coach doesn't pay for you." wonseok never took his eyes off the road, the snarl on his face staying. "i do. you should be doing everything that i say."

she did. she has. had he caught her playing any other day, she would be there, all over the court and in the air, playing with the pride of the jang's on her back.

she had picked '01' out for that reason.

wonyoung wanted to make him proud.

she just wanted to make him realize that today had been a bad day for her.

"dad-"

"what?"

but there was nothing she could do, not when he had decided that she was as useless as she truly was.

wonyoung stayed quiet, no longer finding the energy or worth to reason with her father. it was one of the many things her father had praised her for when she was younger.

her compliance was a gift.

"get your head out of your ass, wonyoung." wonseok muttered. "don't act like that ever again."

wonyoung, as obedient as ever, nodded.

"yes, dad."

she wished that her father stayed a busy man today.

the only person to knock on her door was hann hyunseo.

her father rarely went up to her room, always opting to call her downstairs to scold her or review her game videos. her mother preferred to barge right in, yelling at the top of her lungs about whatever she was particularly upset about that day.

it was one of the only things that hyunseo had done well, at least in wonyoung's eyes.

wonyoung grabbed the door knob, twisting it open to come face to face with her younger half-sister.

in hyunseo's hand, a piping hot of cup noodles steamed, and in the other, wonyoung's favorite water bottle. no one, not even the housekeepers, bothered the heiress during her study sessions. they knew that they wouldn't get a response at the very least, or gettting yelled at by jiyoung if her daughter answered at the very most.

wonyoung would've scolded the young lee instead, if not for her tear striken face.

"hi." hyunseo's voice was soft, trembling.

wonyoung knew that hyunseo was an energetic young kid, albeit too much for her liking. she always walked around with a smile on her face, even when the jang ignored her.

this wasn't like lee hyunseo.

"you haven't eaten all day." wonyoung didn't know why she felt so guilty. "i made you some food."

she hated hyunseo for many things.

she hated how hyunseo had erased her, even though the young jang had wished to. her shrill, excited voice annoyed her, especially when her mother seemed to be too fond of someone who wasn't hers biologically. she seemed popular at her school, friends hovering all around her with a smile.

hyunseo was too much. too loud, too annoying, too happy.

she was too much like wonyoung, or at least everything she wanted to be at that age.

"are you crying?" wonyoung asked, her voice almost comforting.

tears fell faster down the lee's face. hyunseo had always wished for her older sister to speak to her like that.

"oh, i didn't notice." hyunseo muttered. "don't worry. i just get sad sometimes."

wonyoung got sad sometimes, too. especially when...

oh.

"did dad yell at you?"

hyunseo hesitated before shaking her head, and it was all wonyoung needed to know.

"it's okay." hyunseo handed wonyoung her food and her water. the older girl couldn't help but stare. "i'm gonna go to my room now."

to love someone was to do the right thing.

when was the last time wonyoung had loved someone?

wonyoung hated meetings.

her father seemed to love them, yet she didn't. she hated the way each season started with a mandatory get-together, discussing away games, team trips, and fundraisers. it all seemed like a headache, organizing and planning. she would hate to be left with a task as such.

she could only shiver at the thought.

still, wonseok always got what he wanted, whether it be women or money. the beginning of the season allowed for him to 'suggest' the head coach to put in a good word for wonyoung to recruiters. although it was never needed, wonseok couldn't help but want a little cushion, just in case.

"we're gonna be late." he looked at his watch, handcrafted in spain.

"dad, it's just a meeting." wonyoung wished for hyunseo to talk longer, hoping that her father would just get frustrated altogether and not go. "you know that coach won't care."

"i care." wonseok was getting tired of the youngest at this point. making him wait for three minutes had already pushed his limits further than it should've. "hyunseo! hurry up!"

wonyoung winced, knowing exactly what it felt like to be on the receiving end of his screaming.

she felt horrible, like she was watching her four-year-old self get yelled at in the third person.

"dad, it's fine." wonyoung would've grabbed his arm, if she weren't so afraid of him. "it's only ten minutes away. we still have tim-"

"lee hyunseo!" his voice cut through the air in a way wonyoung had never heard in her life. instinctively, she took a step back. "do you want me to go up there and force you down here?"

jiyoung and wonyoung frowned at the thought of the man dragging the young lee down. it took everything in the younger jang to stay quiet, knowing that if she spoke, he would only get angrier.

jiyoung didn't care. that was sister's blood, regardless of origin.

"wonseok."

"shut it, jiyoung." wonseok's voice was raspy from his shouting. "i can't have that child ruin the reputation that me and wonyoung have built."

wonyoung bit the side of her cheek. if anything, he was ruining the reputation she built. wonseok's instant donations had spread rumors throughout multiple schools, and regardless of truth (which they weren't), wonyoung had to face the blow.

thank god for uchinaga aeri.

"she's a child." jiyoung tried to explain.

envy coursed through the young jang's veins. hyunseo was lucky to have jiyoung on her side. wonyoung would die for her mother to defend her, especially against wonseok.

she was a child, too. why didn't her mother care for her?

"she's grown enough to know that the world doesn't revolve around people like her." wonyoung was a hypocrite, just like her mother and her father. "lee hyunseo! last warning!"

wonyoung couldn't do this anymore. she could let a kid relive everything that she tried so hard to escape from.

hyunseo wasn't wonyoung, and wonyoung needed to see that.

"i'll go get her, dad." wonyoung smiled kindly, the facade threatening to fall with a single accusation.

she waited for her father to allow her, and with a simple nod, wonyoung rushed upstairs.

she hadn't been to han - no, hyunseo's room before. she had peaked inside multiple times, the old, grey wallpaper replaced with a soft pink that complimented the younger girl's personality.

the door was still the same though, and it reminded wonyoung that not all things change.

wonyoung felt a wave of deja vu as she knocked on the mahogany, the solid thud with each hit. her shadow bounced off the ground, and wonyoung wondered if hyunseo could tell who was there from it.

it was silent.

"hyunseo?" hyunseo heard the shadow speak. "can i come in?"

wonyoung could hear the faint footsteps approaching the hardwood door. her younger sister's tear-stained cheeks peaked through as hyunseo let her inside.

wonyoung closed the door behind her, knowing her father and mother would do their best to listen despite the soundproof walls.

everything felt familiar.

the air conditioning blasted from across the room, whirling out puffs of cool air that made wonyoung shiver. she could see the vanity, still in decent condition, just like how it was left before. the back of the door had an empty space between two of its hooks when a young jang wonyoung had decided to hang a chair off it.

the memories came flooding back, but jang wonyoung didn't deserve any of it.

but wonyoung couldn't dwell on it. lee hyunseo needed her older sister more.

"why are you crying?"

wonyoung could list multiple reasons off the back of her hand, many of it her doing.

she felt horrible. she could've stopped this.

hyunseo rubbed her eyes as if she were tired. "i can't find my brush."

although a brush was an odd thing to break down about, wonyoung couldn't help but brush it off. she had her fair share of meltdowns as well, one of which was a missing throw pillow in her closet.

"do you want me to look for it?" wonyoung's voice radiated a warmth that hyunseo had never felt from her.

without thinking, the younger girl threw her arms around her sister, wonyoung holding her in place. she was confused, even more so when the younger began to sob.

"hyunseo?"

it was heartbreaking to hear a child as bright as hyunseo cry. wonyoung didn't know how her parents managed to listen.

"i can't find my brush..." hyunseo could feel wonyoung embrace her back, and she felt as if she finally had someone on her side. "i miss when my mom. i miss my friends from my old school. i miss when dad was nice to me."

wonyoung didn't know why she felt as if hyunseo would shatter if she released her hold, or why it sounded like a six-year-old version of her, begging her dad to stay for her birthday.

"i wish i was you, unnie." wonyoung could feel the tears staining her shirt, and the shock running through her body. "you never mess up. you're always so pretty and smart. you never say the wrong thing. everyone loves you."

each sentence seemed to amount to the lie that was jang wonyoung. everything, every word that had come out of her younger sister's mouth, was all carefully curated by her in fear.

wonyoung was terrified that people would see through her, that they would see an imperfect, horrible monster. the one that resembled her father in namesake and in emotion.

wonyoung had even managed to fool hyunseo, but the eldest could never fool herself.

"you're perfect."

jang wonyoung was a useless, stupid crybaby. she was a coward who hid behind walls, who didn't deserve the love and praise that came to her.

jang wonyoung was jang wonyoung, and she feared that it would never change.

""i'm sorry, hyunseo." the younger girl cried as wonyoung tried her hardest not to. she was fooling everyone but herself. "unnie's here now. don't cry, okay?"

hyunseo's sobs eventually faded seconds later, her face flushed in embarrassment and exhaustion. wonyoung could tell that the younger girl had been needing her by her side, and all this time, she had done nothing out of pure selfishness.

"feel better?"

hyunseo nodded, her hair still messy. the eldest could only laugh at her sister.

"let's go find your brush."

hyunseo nodded, her head low as she watched wonyoung's shadow bounce off the hardwood floor.

wonyoung getting scouted to her dream school was basically a fantasy.

both her parents hailed from different SKYS. her father, like the typical jang he was, was an alumni of seoul national university. her mother, on the other hand, was from yonsei university.

she knew that her father wanted her to follow in his footsteps. wonseok had made it clear that if wonyoung were to continue volleyball, it would need to be at snu, where she would major in political science, just like him.

but, like yoo jimin, she wanted to go to seoul's university of multi-arts.

her father didn't need to know that she had a one-on-one meeting with the coach today. it wasn't like she could accept their offer without discussing with her father first.

but then there was her mother.

"i need to go, mom."

wonyoung had dressed for the weather. her light jacket, engraved with the letters of her high school, lay neatly on her figure. it wasn't one to keep her insulated, but with every word her mother spoke, it seemed more and more the case.

jiyoung was against wonyoung playing volleyball as a whole. she had heard from aeri that her mother would go on rants, demonizing the sport as if it was the reason for her daughter's shortcomings.

the reason for her daughter's shortcomings was many things, including her mother, but it was never volleyball.

still, jiyoung was sure wonyoung was going to get nowhere in life.

"you need to pass your csat." jiyoung had said those words before, like a mantra. "volleyball isn't going to get you there."

wonyoung could only scoff. being the top student at her school should've been more than enough, especially since wonyoung was also in the top ten players for volleyball.

she was eighth, right above a girl named shin yuna, whoever she was.

"i'm already going to pass." wonyoung muttered, putting on her shoes hastily. "i've been studying myself to sleep for the past month."

wonyoung remembered many mornings where she would wake up at her desk, her face pressed against her textbook.

"that's not enough for someone like you."

wonyoung blinked.

"someone... like me?"

wonyoung knew she was stupid. she knew that there was nothing inside her head aside from volleyball and textbooks, and that she always had to try twice as hard to be at the same level as everyone else.

she knew that she was worth practically nothing, but she was growing tired of her parents repeating it over and over again.

wonyoung didn't need a reminder.

"you need to study harder and stop trying to be something you're not."

wonyoung hated how her mother saw right through her, just like how she hated her mother for never loving her.

she hated how she could never love herself because of it.

"is that why you married dad?" wonyoung's voice sounded unfamiliar to her, as if it wasn't her own. "is that why you let yourself get cheated on and why you let his other child live under your roof?"

hyunseo gasped, and wonyoung had forgotten she was sitting in the living room right next to jiyoung.

"this has nothing to do with my marriage and has everything to do with how stupid and useless you are." jiyoung's words still cut deep, no matter how hard wonyoung had willed it not to. "you think your father cared about you before this? you think he cares now?"

wonyoung could only blink her tears away.

she knew the truth, just like then. wonyoung was an extension of the jang name, nothing more. her failures were hers and her successes were his.

she wondered if wonseok ever cared about anyone but himself.

"he cares about someone!" wonyoung bit back with the same furosity as her mother. "and that's clearly not you."

hyunseo wanted the shouting to stop. she wanted everyone to calm down, to get along.

(deep down, she wondered if the real cause of the tension was her.)

"you don't know how hard it was carrying your burden." jiyoung could remember every insult that wonseok threw her way. every jab at her character, she took and held, and it was all wonyoung's fault. "you don't know the things your father put me through."

"i don't need to know!" wonyoung could feel her throat growing tired of holding back her tears. "you're a horrible mother. i wish you died instead!"

the room fell silent.

wonyoung could hear the quiet chatter coming from the tv, playing whatever show hyunseo had been watching. the polyester cuff of wonyoung's sleeve rubbed against her wrist as she covered her mouth. she could smell the rain from outside, no longer pouring,

in front of her, wonyoung watched as she saw her mother cry for the first time.

to love someone is to do the right thing.

"how can you say that to me?" jiyoung didn't know she could feel pain like this again. "how could you hurt your mother, wonyoung?"

("it should've been you, jiyoung. it should've been you instead of jihyun.")

but wonyoung was tired of asking her mother to love her.

"whatever."

wonyoung turned, slamming the door behind her. she could feel her hands shaking, a part of her guilty for saying those words, and a part of her horrified for meaning them.

wonyoung wished the rain would start once more. perhaps she could hide her tears in them.

wonyoung and her mother hadn't spoken about the incident, and she never would.

upon thinking about it, only regret gnawed at the bottom of her chest. she hated how a significant part of her meant the words she said, and how deep down, she truly wished for it to be true.

wonyoung was just like her father, in every sense.

"dad told me to pick you up today."

wonyoung could see the middle schoolers around her, mouth hung open as the eldest picked up her sister. behind hyunseo, a boy around her age scurried away, nearly tripping over himself in fear.

granted, wonyoung was glaring at him.

"was that your boyfriend?" wonyoung felt a deep-setted anger simmering in her chest.

"no!" she could see her sister blushing heavily. "why?"

she knew her mother couldn't care less about who she dated, but she wondered if jiyoung felt the same as her when it came to hyunseo.

"you guys shouldn't be that close if you aren't dating." she felt like a mother scolding her daughter. sighing once she saw hyunseo's pout, wonyoung relented. "does he like you?"

"i don't think so." hyunseo's frown deepened, and a part of wonyoung wanted to reassure her that it was the boy's loss. "do you think he does?"

oh. wonyoung raised an eyebrow.

"do you want him to?"

hyunseo's face burned a firey red as she refused to answer. it took everything in the older girl to not tease her sister. wonyoung never understood someone crushing on another person that much.

perhaps she hadn't met the right person yet. at least, that's what aeri and yeojin had told her (yujin had stayed oddly quiet when wonyoung had asked her).

the two walked out of the building, wonyoung smiling at every passerby she had recognized. there were many of her father's business partners around, all because wonseok had decided hyunseo had to attend private school.

wonyoung shivered at the thought of entering a private school.

"you should apologize to auntie." hyunseo frowned, fiddling with the strap of her backpack.

wonyoung sighed. "it's not your problem, hyunseo."

hyunseo lowered her head, feeling as wonyoung gave her a soft pat on her head.

"i don't like seeing you upset, unnie."

upset was an understatement.

"i'm not upset." wonyoung tried her best to reassure her younger sister, smiling as she opened the car her dad had gifted her on her sixteenth birthday.

"my mom said that lying can put you in jail for life." hyunseo scolded her, and wonyoung couldn't help but burst out laughing. "i know it doesn't because i'm not five anymore, but still."

the two hopped inside, wonyoung starting the car as hyunseo settled in.

"it's her fault." wonyoungg muttered.

she didn't expect hyunseo to understand. although there was a sliver of her that felt bitter, the younger girl wasn't there for wonyoung's childhood. she couldn't blame hyunseo for defending her version of jiyoung.

"i know." hyunseo looked at the window as they pulled out of the parking lot. "but sometimes, it's not just her fault. no one is perfect."

wonyoung felt her heart drop.

hyunseo had seen through her facade.

"i thought you thought i was perfect?" wonyoung's calm voice failed to reflect her true emotions.

did hyunseo hate her now? did she realize that the person she looked up to was nothing but a selfish, ruined person who wished death on her mother?

wonyoung needed to focus on driving before she crashed the two of them on the side of the road.

"you are." hyunseo seemed truthful, but wonyoung begged to differ. "but even perfect people mess up sometimes."

she knew. she had to.

"that would mean they aren't perfect."

wonyoung wasn't perfect. it was her fatal flaw.

"oh." hyunseo hummed, oblivious to her older sister's internal turmoil. "that makes sense, i guess."

wonyoung wondered if she'd ever be perfect.

she wondered if hyunseo would forgive her.

it had only been almost a year since the two had gotten close. hyunseo had followed her around like a baby chick following her mother, and wonyoung cherished it like she cherished her little sister.

but she couldn't stay in this place anymore, not when her father and mother was here. she couldn't become who they wanted, no matter how hard she wanted to.

wonyoung just wanted to be selfish. she just wanted to be anything but her parents.

"look at my daughter!"

wonseok had been babying her since she agreed to go to snu. it was everything she wanted when she was a child, to be recognized and loved by him, but she was terrified of becoming another jang clone.

"top of her class, and on her way to seoul university, just like her father."

she had to break the news to him coldly, just like how he had announced to her mother about his affair.

"i want to go to suma."

wonyoung could see his facade drop, and she was met with the face of the wonseok she knew; cold, unloving, and terrifying.

she hoped hyunseo wouldn't see her like that once she left.

"what?"

wonyoung repeated herself. "i'm going to suma."

suma was a prestigious school, one of the SKYS that everyone had obsessed over. still, in the eyes of the elite, sending your child to the worst out of the four was a mockery.

jang wonseok wasn't a mockery.

"no, you aren't." wonseok's voice was firm and wonyoung could see her mother stiffen at his voice. "that's a performing arts school. your mother went to one when she was younger and look how she turned out."

"she graduated in yonsei."

"she went to a performing arts high school." wonseok reasoned before standing up. "wonyoung, you're not going to suma. you didn't even apply."

she sent the registration forms the day her and her mother had fought, with a letter of recommendation from her coach and the principal.

it was the only school that she had done so.

"i did." wonyoung tried her best for her voice to not waver. "i'm going."

wonseok took a heavy breath, internally blaming his wife for raising a daughter so disobedient. "who's gonna pay for your tuition?"

"i'm on a full-ride scholarship." she decided to answer, quick and curtly.

suma was the only school that had given her a full-ride scholarship, included in which are dorms and her meal plan. snu had only given her a partial one since the campus was only a couple minutes drive from gangnam.

"the majors there are useless." wonseok tried to reason, his temper slowly getting the better of him. "you need something practical, something that makes you-"

"a jang?"

wonyoung had meant it as an insult, but all wonseok could take it as a compliment.

"exactly." he felt as if he was starting to get through to his daughter. "i thought you said you were doing political science, wonyoung."

she never wanted to do political science. if she had to choose a major, one of which wasn't in multi-arts, she would've chosen biology with a focus on flora.

wonyoung never got what she wanted, though.

"i changed my mind."

this time, she would.

"you're kidding me." wonseok couldn't believe what he was hearing. he looked over to jiyoung, face red from anger as he adjusted the cuffs on his shirt. "talk to your daughter."

with one look, wonyoung knew her mother knew that she wasn't going to change her mind. it was one of the many things that terrified wonyoung, especially back when her mom found out about her preference for women.

("it's gonna be my problem if your dad finds out. keep your mouth shut.")

"wonyoung, now's not the time to annoy your dad." jiyoung just wanted to go upstairs and turn off her brain. she was tired of hearing her husband yell and her daughter whine. "just do what he says."

wonyoung shook her head.

"no." she stood her ground, just like her father had taught her. "their volleyball team's good. it's basically the best way to get into the national team. each year they take someone to go and-"

"that's not you!" wonseok could feel his temper skyrocketing. the jang's were made for politics like they have always been. "you're a jang!"

wonyoung never asked to be born a jang.

"i'm going." this was her only way out. "i already accepted."

jiyoung shook her head. with a piercing glare, she looked at her husband. "this is your fault for enabling her fantasies."

"kang seulgi and lee chaeyeon went there. so did seo soojin." her father shook his head, muttering curses under his breath. suddenly, wonyoung had realized.

"dad," there was a reason why she had gone to that high school in the first place. if the jang's were anything, they were easily influenced. "yoo jimin goes there."

"you're not yoo jimin."

wonyoung knew that, but she still wanted to dream.

"yujin-unnie is going. aeri-unnie also goes there." wonyoung begged. she knew that deep down, no matter how hard she tried, she would always need her father's approval. "the oh's went there too! haewon-ssi is next in line to inherit-"

"enough."

wonyoung looked down, her act no longer hiding her desperation.

she couldn't stay here. she couldn't go to snu, and be a half-baked politician who lies their way out of problems. wonyoung had no say in her life, but this time, she just wanted one chance.

"who else?"

wonyoung thought to herself.

"hwang yeji."

wonseok nodded.

"i'll think about it, wonyoung."

that was more than enough.

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