ethereal | park jimin | ✓

chapter 34 not enough lobster

There isn't enough lobster in the world to make this dinner bearable.

As I predicted, my parents are being less than civil toward Taehyung. To the untrained eye, we are a happy family having a nice dinner together. To those familiar with gaslighting and lies, one can hear the knife-sharp comments woven into their wide, toothy smiles.

We sit at a round table near a large window that overlooks the glowing metropolis. The warm lighting of the restaurant reflects off the frosted glass creating a glare across the night sky.

The restaurant, Votelli's, is an elegant place with dark velvet seat lining and candle-lit tables. Each table is covered with a thick, white tablecloth with a complimentary bottle of wine on the side. The waiters and waitresses are dressed in fine suits and ties with their hair gelled so much they glisten. Behind the soft undertones of polite conversation, piano music fills the silence of taking a breath.

Claire De Lune, I think to myself as I stare down at my unfinished lobster. It is one of the only classical songs I can recall by name.

Taehyung sits tall at my side and doesn't bother with exaggerated smiles and false laughter. His deep brown eyes are dark—unamused—and his lips have not formed a smile since we arrived. I felt terrible about the entire night, but my parents were so adamant about coming I couldn't say no.

Occasionally, I feel the soft brush of Taehyung's fingertips against my thigh. His touch is comforting and reminds me that I am not alone. We are in this together.

Despite the awkward circumstances, he looks absolutely dashing in his black suit. Jimin used some of my hair creams to style Taehyung's long, black hair into shiny waves. His smooth, tanned skin is glowing with youth. His full lips are soft from the chapstick. There is no denying that Taehyung is incredibly handsome.

Yet I can't stop thinking about how Jimin would look in a suit.

Taehyung mentioned that Jimin is allergic to seafood, which wouldn't pair well with the restaurant's main dishes, and explained that it would be difficult to hide his hybrid parts. I told them again that I didn't care if their hybrid parts showed, but Jimin acted strangely about it and refused to come.

I force myself to look ahead at my parents, knowing the silence in this conversation has dragged on for too long.

My father is a small man, physically, but there is power in his eyes. His golden-brown hair is styled back neatly and he wears a dark gray suit. He rarely smiles, it's a personality trait. I don't think he has been happy for a day in his life. At his work, everybody gushes on how outgoing and confident he is but the moment he comes into the house, all of that disappears.

My dad is an angry man and tends to be very particular about things. He often reminds me of a bomb. Not the grenade type, but the bomb with a broken timer that can destroy everything in a five-mile radius. I never know when he's going to explode but I know I should run when he does. I only pray that I run fast enough to escape his wrath.

He finishes his crystal glass of gin and takes a moment to stare at the bottom of it. He tilts the glass side to side to watch the droplets slide to the rounded corner. "Are you focusing on your studies, Eden?" he asks finally.

I sit back in my chair. "Of course."

His eyes lift slowly with skepticism. "Of course," he repeats. "I was only checking. I tried to call the university to see how you were doing. They told me our permission for your information was... revoked."

I take a deep breath and nod at him. "Yes," is all I can come up with.

His expression shifts into calm irritation. "Yes..." he drawls, taking his time with each word as if to emphasize his displeasure, "I thought it was an error in their system. But of course, this was not a mistake, I take it?"