❝ told you so ❞ ;; bbangnyu

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ four ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

chanhee's pov

there were a few mumbles of commotion when the door clicked. i heard a few creaks of floorboards until i saw younghoon's parents and older sister poke their heads through the open door.

"younghoon- oh, chanhee," mrs kim's annoyed frown turned into a sweet smile. "where's younghoon? we heard yelling and we just want to make sure you both are alright."

"have you been crying?" mr kim looked a bit concerned.

"see? i told you that i heard crying and bickering in here!" younghoon's sister, jisoo crossed her arms.

that's when i realised how much younghoon acts like his sister, and the other way round. both of younghoon's parents sternly looked at jisoo, probably not wanting to have any more yelling at night.

"right, jisoo," mr kim started. "i'm gonna need you to go back to bed while we sort this out."

"but dad, i wanna know what happened." she protested.

mrs kim waved her hand in dismissal and turned back to me, who was still sat on younghoon's bed in tears.

"so what happened?"

"we got into a fight," i tried not to burst into tears again. "then h-he stormed out."

"stormed out to where?" mr kim asked.

"i don't know!" i put my head in my hands, still trying to process what had just happened.

"ohhh, i think i might know." jisoo smirked and went down the stairs, a creaking noise sounding as she downed each step.

"do you want me to take you home, chanhee?" mrs kim tightened her grip on the robe she was wearing.

"yes, thank you." i slowly lifted myself from the disorganised bed.

mrs kim led me down the stairs after she sent her husband back to their bedroom, despite his mumbles of protest.

the soft glow of the fireplace danced on the walls, casting a comforting ambiance throughout the room. the scent of freshly baked cookies wafted from the kitchen, wanting me to indulge in their deliciousness. who's been baking this late at night? probably jisoo.

the shelves were adorned with treasured photographs, capturing precious moments shared by the kim family over the years. in the corner, a bookshelf neatly stacked with literature, encyclopaedias and dictionaries. no wonder younghoon's so smart.

"i'm deeply sorry for his behaviour," mrs kim apologised, grabbing her car keys from a console table with drawers. "me and his father will be sure to talk to him about leaving the house without permission."

she paused, turning to me again.

"and of course, yelling at his friends, i'm sure that he'll apologise soon," she smiled before tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. "for whatever he yelled at you for."

i nodded, not wanting to cause any more chaos in the (once) quiet house. if only she knew. she would've definitely said something else if she knew.

"alright, hop into the car, i just need to grab my phone." she unlocked the front door and left it open, the cold breeze blowing against my bare skin.

she unlocked the car from where she was standing and walked over to the living room, giving me time to get inside the vehicle.

i quickly exited the house, walking towards the black, range rover that she owned. i remembered the days when me and younghoon used to always fight over who'd ask for mcdonalds whenever his parents picked me up from school, he was so obviously scared to ask, so i had to do it every time. i also recalled the day when younghoon accidentally spilt a bit of milkshake on the car seat, apparently he got grounded for the rest of the week and he had to pay for the car cleaning with his pocket money. that just explains what type of parents mr and mrs kim are.

when i approached the clean, black car, i gently pulled on the handle, scared of scratching the car. the door opened and i made sure that my shoes weren't dirty before climbing in, remembering the mud incident. closing the door beside me, i sat in the car, the only sounds i heard was the wind blowing against the windows.

as the veil of denial slowly lifted, i found myself facing a painful truth: i've been trapped in a destructive relationship. the realisation dawned on me like a sudden storm, leaving me drenched in a mix of sorrow and anger. i reflected on the countless times i dismissed the red flags, excusing the hurtful words and controlling behavior as mere flaws. but then, with clarity seeping into my consciousness, i saw the toll it had taken on my self-respect and happiness. the once vibrant colors of my life had faded, replaced by a cloud of dullness that suffocated my spirit. it was a difficult truth to accept, but in that moment of revelation, i realised that it was all true.

i thought about the first days of dating juyeon. the little hangouts, walks to the park, he seemed so nice. but he obviously changed, and i failed to understand why. younghoon had been trying to tell me this whole time, and yet i still tried to defend him. why am i so fucking stupid?!

relapsing over the recent events, i thought about what younghoon had said. of course younghoon's right. he's always been right, and will always be right.

i heard muffled footsteps coming towards the car, it was mrs kim in her white crocs, holding her phone and car keys. she soon neared the driver seat door, opening it and climbing in, putting her phone in the storage unit.

"alright, i've called your mom and she said that she'll be waiting for you at home," she closed the door. "i'm so sorry again."

"it's fine, i understand why he got mad."

mrs kim gave me a confused look before starting up the engine and eventually pulling out of the cul-de-sac.

what can i say?

i looked out of the window, focusing on the evergreen trees and the illuminated street lights as we accelerated past modern houses and old, victorian schools. mrs kim decided to turn up the radio, which was on classic fm, and started humming to the violin and flute bits. younghoon's family liked listening to classical music, no matter the occasion, they just seemed to be fancy. younghoon and i used to mimic the violin players, over exaggerating the arm movements with the bow in hand, and their stance. younghoon used to also add sound effects, which always made jisoo go mad because she's a violin player. she scolded him, saying that violins don't sound like screeching.

oh. younghoon.

he told you so.