Truth or Dare

1

The soft glow of the TV illuminates the dimly lit lounge as we immersed ourselves in our weekly movie night. It was Mom's turn to pick the film, and true to her hopeless romantic nature, she had chosen a Korean romance drama.

Dad, with his fifth beer can in hand, is already nodding off on the couch, his snores providing a subtle background soundtrack to the film. Mom, on the other hand, sits on the edge of her seat, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as she eagerly awaits the predictable love story on the screen.

Quiet frankly, she couldn't care less if her choice bored us to death. At least my choice of movies are based on facts and not feelings.

I glare at the TV screen wishing so hard to bore a hole into it.

"Awwwh," Mom cries out as the guy in the movie utter those 3 words to a girl he he clearly has no chemistry with. I can't help but roll my eyes so hard they almost get stuck. This is hurting my soul, it feels like a slow painful death.

Mom lets out a sigh, her hand reaching for a tissue to dab at the tears that welled in her eyes. "Isn't that beautiful?" she whispers, her voice filled with emotion.

I shrug, feigning disinterest. "It's alright, I guess," I reply nonchalantly, though internally, I couldn't help but scoff at the unrealistic portrayal of love on screen. To me, love is nothing more than a cliché, an overhyped emotion that people delude themselves into believing is something more than just a fleeting feeling.

Can it just be tomorrow already?

As I bore my eyes on the TV screen, the shrill ringtone of my father's phone interrupts.

My dad, always prompt in answering calls, reaches for the receiver with a furrowed brow as if he wasn't snoring a second ago.

"Mr. Mayor," His voice is low, cautious, and professional.

I flick my gaze over to my dad, as I strain to catch the muffled words on the other end of the line. It's not uncommon for my father to get a call late at night from the mayor, summoning him to the City Hall for an unexpected meeting or to whisk him away to some impromptu event across town. These late-night rendezvous have become a routine part of our family's life even when he is home for a break.

My mom's gaze flickers with apprehension, mirroring my own as she exchanges a glance with my dad. The tension in the room thickens, suffocating.

"Yes, Mr. Mayor," my dad responds, his voice barely audible over the clatter of dishes. "Of course, I'll be there right away."

Mom gives Dad a stern look upon hearing him say that.

Ending the call with a heavy sigh, Dad rises from the couch, his shoulders slumping with tiredness---from the five cans of beers he just drank.

Mom expression changes. "You could have said you've been drinking, you know?" she begins.

"Duty calls, Elen," Dad responds to Mom; there's a slight slur in his voice. "His son needs a driver back home from a party. I guess he had a little too much to drink."

"Not when you are off," Mom hollers. "You were supposed to be on leave this entire week, but your phone has been ringing the whole time. We haven't seen you for months although we live in the same town. The one time we get to spend time together as a family, you receive calls for silly errands. This is absolutely uncalled for, John."

Dad hesitates, his voice flickering between Mom and I before he finally speaks, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry, honey. I promise I'll make it up to you'll. I have to do whatever he wants me to do, especially if he wants to help me build my logistics business."