perhaps, you | woosan

Chapter Eight

POV: Wooyoung

The sound of 'the student guidance room' itself gave out a bad premonition, which turned into a conviction when he faced his parents in the room. His parents—the very reason he wanted to be 'independent' and 'responsible' so that he could escape their cell.

"Wooyoung, please take a seat," encouraged the teacher who was responsible for guiding students.

Wooyoung had almost forgotten his father's sharp glare as if nothing in the world satiated him, and the worrisome face of his mother as if everything was going to take a wrong turn. He had almost forgotten—and he wished he could have kept it that way.

"It was reported that you one-sidedly hurt someone at some party yesterday," the teacher stated calmly, in which his father snorted disdainfully.

It seemed that the dickhead not only wasn't satisfied slandering San but had to snitch it to the university. Well, it could have been a bystander reporting it but Wooyoung was fixed, it was that bastard himself. Unfortunate thing was that he belonged to the same university.

"We don't want to take the matter too seriously, but as it was reported, we were to call your parents and ask for their guidance."

Guidance? Wooyoung scoffed internally. If anything, that was the license they have failed to obtain when they began their career as a parent. That was the last thing he needed from them.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, Ms. Lee," spoke Mr. Jung. "We'll talk to him and make sure it won't happen again."

After that brief talk, the Jung family left the room. Wooyoung was well aware of how his parents cared about how they appeared to others, and only when they were alone did their true side surface.

"So this is what you wanted to do running out of our house?" Mr. Jung ridiculed. "To punch someone? To embarrass us that our nineteen year old son isn't disciplined and needs parental guidance?"

"Wooyoung-ah, why did you hurt your friend?"

Ignoring his mother's out of the place question, Wooyoung retorted. "You shouldn't have to come."

"Says a minor who can't even control his hormones!" Mr. Jung roared. "If you don't want us to teach how you should behave, then be like Seonghwa for once."

There he goes, Wooyoung sighed. Every second with the man assembling the frustration he had deadly tried to scatter being away from them. Every conversation they had had to involve that particular person's name.

Seonghwa—his elder brother who is smart, diligent, kind, polite, good-looking, whatever went along the line of 'ideal son', whose path Wooyoung was demanded to follow. He couldn't count the times his parents recited how impeccable his brother was and how he wasn't. It didn't matter whether or not he got a regular position in his school soccer team. It didn't matter whether or not he poured his heart once he had into writing a letter to his parents on their anniversary. It didn't matter whether or not he stood up against the bully, for the bullied. It didn't matter whether or not he was chosen for the graduation choir. He was never good enough. All his achievements were not worth a mention compared to Seonghwa's glory. They always made sure to rub that in his brain, scarring his heart because he wasn't worth their acknowledgement.

"You're grounded for a week," Mr. Jung stated.

"What??"

"Go get your belongings. We'll be waiting in the car," he said sternly, not waiting for any response as he briskly led out with his wife. If looks could hurt, Mr. Jung would be in a pulp. Wooyoung stood there piercing at the man's back, until he finally gave up and bitterly accepted his much hated destiny. All the elation and motivation he felt earlier on, shriveled to nothingness.

He was shoving his toothbrush in his backpack when the dorm room opened. Either San was done with today's lecture or has a free time in between, Wooyoung didn't know.

"Hey, what's going on?" he asked, noticing the messy sight of Wooyoung scramming his belongings roughly. "Is everything okay?"

"My parents came," Wooyoung answered, unable to hide his underlying acrimony of which anyone could tell it wasn't for a happy occasion. "And I'm grounded for a week."

San furrowed his eyebrows. "What? Why?"

Wooyoung was done with packing. He didn't have much belongings anyway, more than half of his stuff still sleeping in that stifling residence. Zipping his backpack, he slinged it over his shoulder and stood up.

"Because I'm a brat who needs discipline," Wooyoung curled the edge of his lips mockingly.

He wasn't going to tell the true reason. He didn't want to risk San feeling the blame on him. Because honestly? Wooyoung didn't regret punching that carper one bit. Instead he regretted not punching him more for this penalty he had to go through.

"Take care, San. See you in a week," he patted San's shoulder, taking a leave.

"Let's have a movie night," San prompted.

Wooyoung tilted his head at a sudden invitation. "A movie night?"

"When you come back," San smiled. "Tickets, popcorns, drinks, all on me. Sounds good?"

"Add hotdog to that," Wooyoung smirked.

San laughed at the boy's bold request, "deal."

After hearing that promise, Wooyoung finally walked off, his feet lighter than before. He never thought a smile would creep in knowing where he was about to go, only because time that can't be travelled physically, could mentally.