Chasing After The Wind [P.JM]

XVI

KIM YUN-SEO'S POV

오후 5시 02 분

It was the last subject of the day when my phone rang, which was very unusual. Anyone who would call me is mostly either Yeoji or Soo, but we all were in class during that time. The call was from my mother's secretary, who barely called me too though her number happened to be saved here. I excused myself out of the classroom and answered the call.

"Kim Yunseo-ssi, Mrs Kim told me to tell you to go straight home after your class." She stated. It made me a bit nervous for some reason, because it's either I'm getting scolded or we have to go somewhere. "Oh. Did she tell you why?" I asked. She muttered a simple "no" and said she was hanging up so I could go back to class. Not sure what it is, but I'm getting a really bad feeling about this.

I went back inside and sat down on my seat next to Yeoji. "What is it?" She asked. I sighed and forced a smile, "they must've found out." Yeoji gasped while shaking her head. She looked at me and said, "Fighting, chingu-ya." Her statement made me chuckle but it didn't take too long until class was over. I had to face it.

Walking home, I thought of endless possibilities, anything except the time I got arrested. But I had a feeling they would've found out about that too already. Opening the gate, I felt chills as the bad aura had already gotten into me. Entering through the doors felt even worse, the house looked rather empty without the maids walking around.

My parents were sitting down in the living room, silently muttering about stuff I couldn't decipher well. The room was deafeningly quiet and I could not be more anxious. I greeted both of them politely and sat down on one of the couches. My mother barely spared me a glance. There was a line of silence until my mother slammed a bunch of papers onto the table. "What is this? Tell me. What have you been doing, Kim Yunseo?!"

I looked at the papers merely and saw the my name on the records of the police station, another one was from the pub I recently went to. She stomped over to me and snatched my bag, emptying it until a box of cigarettes came out. I could not speak a single word then, I felt so... mortified. "Eomma..." I could barely speak the word.

"Father..." I turned to my father who was staring at me indignantly. "Don't talk to me." He spoke in a dull tone and then walked out of the room. Looking back at my mother, she had a dark frown on her face. "Is this what you've been up to? Huh? After letting you into a prestigious school and giving you so much money to squander? We asked for good grades, not this stupid activities of yours!"

I couldn't reply, I didn't know if I actually felt sorry for that — especially for smoking. It was almost the only thing that kept me less stressed after being shoved into a tower of thick books until it was what I breathed. Those things that made them furious were the things that gave me comfort when I felt so suffocated.

"Eomma." I stood up and got on my knees in front of her. She refused so hard to look at me, and I was not even surprised. I know that's something so easy for her - ignoring me. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I had to be your daughter."

After seeing her leave as well, I got up to my room and did my usual routine, thinking I could sleep until I forgot what happened today. I couldn't. I had been staring at the ceiling for an hour or two, and my chest had never stopped hurting. But then again, it wasn't enough to make me cry. Knowing I didn't belong to this place at the moment, I jumped out of my window which was fortunately, not too far from the ground. Being as careful as I could, I quietly got out the gate so that they wouldn't know. That would just be adding fuel to the fire.

Having only my phone and wallet with me, I walked my way to Jimin's studio, wishing he was still in there. To my surprise, the receptionist told me that he still was inside the building, so I waited at the lobby, preparing to sound like the delusional, happy girl I normally was.

"Jimin," I smiled at him when he got off the elevator. He was surprised, of course. "I won't bother you for a week or so. Just be with me tonight, please."