THE GOOD AND THE BAD - DANCERACHA

~CHAPTER 28~

~FRIDAY~

~FELIX P.O.V.~

Finally, the week was over. It had been wild, to be honest. Dance had been going a lot better since I decided to stay. We listened to each other and we were growing stronger day by day. We were constantly getting complimented by our coach both individually and collectively. And most importantly we didn't let personal affairs get in the way. At the end of the day, it might be the best way to work things out.

I was going back home after school, we had made plans with Jisung this weekend, we wanted to go to the town funfair, and have dinner somewhere, and stay over at Jisung's afterward. I had to tell my parents but I don't think it would be much of a problem anyway, they don't usually care anyway.

I got home and helped my mom make lunch. Half an hour later the three of us were sitting at the dining table, eating silently. I cleared my throat.

"Mom, Dad, I'm going to hang out with Jisung at the funfair this Saturday, and I'm staying over at his house for the night, is it okay?"

"Well, we will have some clients from the business come over for dinner this Saturday, and you have to be there, so no, it's not okay," my dad said.

"Why do I have to be there, it's not like I'm part of it or anything."

"You are part of this family and we have to show a proper image, end of the discussion, Felix," mom stated.

I scoffed.

"A proper image? While you don't give a shit about me? I think the fuck no, I'm going to have a good time with Jisung this weekend, period," I got up and grabbed my plate to take it to the kitchen, having completely lost my appetite.

As I was about to get up my dad grabbed the wrist of the hand that was grabbing the plate, and slammed it against the side of the table. The plate fell out of my grasp and landed on the table, cracking and breaking in half as I lost complete control of my hand muscles, I didn't feel my hand, just a numbing pain on my wrist.

It took everything I had in me not to shriek out in pain as my dad kept pressing my wrist on the table, forcing me to sit down.

"You can be as disrespectful and disappointing as you like, but you're going to follow the house rules, you won't get up until you're excused, and you're not cursing at us, do I make myself clear?"

I didn't answer.

He slammed his hands against the table, making the glasses tremble. I flinched.

"I said do I make myself clear?!" He yelled.

"Yes," I said, almost in a whisper.