Jungkook's Little Sister Imagines

Mirrorball | 16

we have mirrorballs in the middle of a dance floor because they reflect light. they are broken a million times and that's what makes them so shiny— we have people like that in society, too. they hang there and every time they break, it entertains us. and when you shine a light on them, it's this glittering, fantastic thing. but then a lot of the time when the spotlight isn't on them they're just still there, up on a pedestal. but nobody's watching them.

you have to be different versions of yourself for different people: different versions at work, different versions around friends— different versions of yourself around different friends, a different version of yourself around family.

every one of us has the ability to become a shape-shifter, or feels that they have to, in some ways, be duplicitous.

and it's exhausting.

—

jeongguk.

i quickly sat down beside jungwon and tried to avoid the piercing gaze of my parents who's probably constructing their how-i-should-be-more-like-jungwon essay that includes how disappointing i am and how jungwon shines so brighter than i do and also concludes that i no longer deserve their love and appreciation because i don't excel anymore.

"sorry, just got dismissed from my class." i loosened my tie and placed it on the empty seat beside me, leaving me on my slightly wrinkled dress shirt.

earlier this morning, mom sent a message to our family group chat that she wants us home by seven tonight for a family dinner. my last period ends at seven so i had to go straight home from my university without even having the time to change and freshen up— which is most probably one of the reasons why mom is glaring at me, because she always tell us that we should never face her unclean.

"why were you late?" jungwon whispered beside me. i looked at her for a second and shook my head, "it's not my fault mom made me take extra classes this year. i would've been out four hours ago if it weren't for those academies."

"your voices are like bees buzzing in my ear." mom's stern voice made us both shut up as i gently served food on my plate, making sure i don't get too much.

for a moment there, we were silent. no one was talking and the clanking of our utensils hitting our ceramic plates were the only thing i can hear. i looked up from my food and realized that dad's seat is empty— i didn't notice his absence because i was too busy trying to think of an excuse for my tardiness.

"where's dad? he's not coming?" mom eleganty wiped the corners of her lips before speaking, "urgent call in the operation room. he'll try to catch up with us but no assurances."

i nodded, taking in what she said. mom talks to us like we're her employees. i can't remember the last time she talked to us like we're her kids— she always has this politeness in her tone that one can hear from a manager talking about work with his employee.

"off that topic. jeongguk," i stopped chewing when she called out my name. for some reason, my heart started pounding rapidly out of anxiety and i can feel my fingers starting to shake but i curled them into a ball and hid them under the table napkin. "yes, ma'am?"

she looked at me with an eyebrow raised, as if she's judging my whole being. "your grades. where can i see them?"

i knew it. mom never really cared about me, and that's a pill that's too hard to swallow— but eventually, i did. all she cared about was my grades. "they're already up on my student portal. you can check them through the school's website. i'll email you the credentials to access it."