Obstinate Elitists

30

Dinner was much more awkward than anticipated. Sitting across your mother and father, you were stiff as a grandmother's bones. The swallows you took to get the food down felt chunky and difficult, clogging your throat as you tried to mind your own business. Forced smiles laid upon lips and barely any eye contact was made. Because you skipped practice for the talent show today, you finally had the chance to witness this cruel situation.

Since the day father came to visit, your mother became very cold and uncomfortable towards you. It was expected, but it didn't hurt any less. She was bound to feel disappointment -- the daughter she thought she had always known failed her. In a way, you had betrayed her as well, for she had laid all her faith in you to chase the monster that was known to be her husband away. You didn't know how to make it up to her or whether she would ever forgive you, but the feeling of helplessness would not disappear. There was too much going on -- too many deadlines and turning points that could change your life in this current time and place.

"So," your father's nightmare fueled voice spoke, "I heard your talent show is coming up, [Y/N]. When is it exactly?"

Oh no. This was exactly what you were afraid of. You could barely stand this man in your own home, but if he were to show up to the talent show, his judging eyes would never fail to haunt you everywhere. He would judge you on your singing abilities, first of all. Next, he would be judging you for wasting time on trivial matters instead of practicing your skill set. Was there any way to weasel out of this? Could you lie to his face, naming a different set date to the actual competition?

Unfortunately, you were too cowardly to seek the consequences for lying straight to his face. "The talent show is in two days, starting at 7 p.m."

"Excellent," he mused, tapping his fingers together and forming a triangle with his hands. "I'll be there. What about you, dear wife? Will you be able to make it to your daughter's show?"

The woman lowered her gaze onto her dish, not daring to make eye contact with you. "I'm sorry [Y/N]. I won't be able to make it. I have a scheduled appointment that day."

Your stomach plummeted to your feet, but you nodded with a smile anyway. "Of course. Don't worry about it. It's nothing of importance. Father, it would be a waste of time for you to go as well."

Dabbing his mouth with a napkin, he cocked a brow up and shook his head. "I am free that evening. I will go, as I am curious..."

There was no way to change his mind. Internally sighing, you leaned back on the face of your chair and quickly scooped up any remains of your meal. The clock in the distance ticked upon every second, with your ears suddenly zoned in on it while you kept your eyes down. Minutes went by and in due time, dinner was over and done with. A hired maid swept into the room, picking the bowls and plates up to clear the table.

You took this as the chance to return to your own room. After respectfully telling your parents you would retire for the night, you scrambled through the long hallways until your bedroom arrived. As days slowly passed through in this webtoon world, you were getting rather used to your own bedroom. It was actually beginning to feel like a home, the purple comforter and fluffy pillows familiar and growing on you. It was hard to admit, but as it was known that humans were very adaptable, you were adjusting well into this life -- well, minus the intense training and school in general.

Walking through the carpeted floors, you reached a door connecting to your private bathroom. The smaller space was luscious, white walls with marbled detail glistening in the luminescent light. The counter contained all of your beauty products and your toothbrush, for it was large enough to fit them. There were also multiple cabinets, stocked with miscellaneous items, such as toilet paper and towels. In the far back was a small window, with velvet green curtains flowing down and shading it.