This Friend | Yeonbin

37

Soobin P.O.V

Taehyun and I sit near the head of the table, where Dad is sitting. He has a half-empty glass of Scotch beside him. In the dim light, he looks gaunt. He lost weight while in the hospital and hasn't put it back on yet, which is even more obvious now that he's shaved.

He's clearly mad about something. His hands are resting on the dark wood of the table, and one of them is clenched into a fist.

Soon, everyone is seated. Silence falls over the room.

"Now," says Dad. "Given recent events, I need all of you to promise that what we talk about tonight will not, under any circumstances, leave this room. Not a word, to anyone, do you all understand?"

He glances at me.

Okay, ouch.

But message received.

Everyone nods.

"Good," he says. He sips his Scotch. "I've called this meeting because I've come up with a plan to end the war."

The energy in the room changes. Everyone is now listening intently.

Dad smirks. "I propose that we call a truce."

There's an uproar. Almost everyone is shouting, trying to get their opinion in.

I might be the only one not doing that.

Can this really be happening?

Is he going to finally ask for peace?

If a truce happens, there will be nothing keeping Yeonjun and me from being friends, or maybe even escalating.

This would solve everything.

"Quiet," says Grandma.

And everyone listens. The room stills.

It still feels charged, though.

"Now," says Dad. "I want you all to know that I have no intention of actually honoring this truce. It's too late for that. They took my father from me, and they tried to kill me. They need to pay."

The crowd seems to like this, as the energy changes. They're on board, I can feel it.

Everyone is but me. For a second I let myself fantasize about a world where Yeonjun and I are allowed to be together.

That was obviously a mistake. Now I just feel down.

"So, what?" asks Taehyun. "You want to call a truce but lie about it?"

Dad nods. "Let me finish. I propose we call a truce. They will agree. They know we have larger numbers, more funding, and more allies."

For now.

"If this war continues as it has been going, then it's only a matter of time before they lose, and they know it. I do believe they will start lashing out soon, though, in their desperate attempts to rebalance the scales. We need to end this war now, in order to ensure our side doesn't take heavy losses."

Vince has his switchblade out. He opens it. "Just tell us, what's the plan?"

"I say we ask them for an unarmed meeting to discuss ending the war peacefully. We tell them we are willing to give them the north side, as long as we keep control over the south and the beach. They can take back control of narcotics, and we will take back full control of gambling. We'll go back to how things used to be."

I know that a meeting like this is a sacred agreement, a safe space. On the streets, we can fight like animals but if a meeting is called, violence is strictly prohibited.

And I think I understand what Dad is suggesting it's so dark. Surely he can't be serious.

"And when they come to the meeting," he says, "we have snipers ready. We can capture a few, and Vince can get them to give up the identities of the rest. We will wipe them all out in one swift strike."

Nobody says anything.

The tension is so thick.

To break tradition like this it's a stink our family will never be able to get off us.

"We can't," says Grandma. "It's not the way things are done."

"They killed your husband," says Dad. "They tried to kill me. Enough time has passed, and now we need retribution."

"Did you learn nothing from him?" asks Grandma. "To suggest this spits on his memory."

"To do nothing spits on his memory. We need to stop them."

"I agree, but our allies won't stand for this," says my aunt. "We could lose all of them. You would take out the Chois but ruin our family."

"I DON'T CARE!" roars Dad. "I want them dead! All of them! They need to pay!"

Grandma is fuming now.

"And they will!" says aunt. "But in the right way. We can't do this. If you stop and think for a second, you'll realize you aren't thinking clearly. There has to be another way."

Dad nods. "Enough. I propose a vote. Everyone in favor of my plan"

Dad raises his hand.

Taehyun does, too.

As does Vince.

Luckily for me, everyone else keeps their hand down. Dad sees that I've kept my hand down, though. I don't think I'll ever be able to get the look he gives me out of my head.

"And now," says Dad, "everyone who thinks we shouldn't"

Everyone else raises their hands. Once again, I keep my hands on the table. He already knows my vote. There's no point rubbing it in.

"All right," says Dad. "It's decided. The plan will not go ahead."

I feel like I just dodged a bullet. But the damage is done.