fever | ateez lore story

CH 9

TW: mentions of abuse; hitting, bruising

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•yeosang•

Practice today was too long. I don't understand why our trainer needs us to go through the choreography X times, I felt like my bones were about to snap in half. I really need to tell my father soon. I can't take this anymore.

As I open the front door and step foot inside, the house is dead-quiet. This is foreign to me because there is usually the sound of the TV running or my mother cooking something in the kitchen. But today? Today, the house stands still.

"I'm home." I announce, hoping to get some response. Nothing.

I hang my coat and toe my shoes off, scanning the house for a soul of some sort. I flinch slightly when I see both of my parent on the couch, both of them looking terribly sullen.

"What happened?" I ask softly, watching as they both turn to my in a scary way.

"Sit down, Yeosang." My father commands sternly, rubbing the palms of his hands on his kneecaps. I feel my heart drop. Did they find out?

I settle onto the single couch across the coffee table from them, not looking at either of them in the eyes. I hear my mother sigh, and they whisper between the two of them, so quietly that I cannot make out what they were discussing.

"Yeosang-ah." my mother calls softly, which makes my head snap up to look at her. I expected her to explain whatever the problem is to me, but once her mouth opens, my father interrupts.

-"Have you been missing your violin lessons?"

My blood ran cold. I've been missing them without realising. Instead, I've been going to the warehouse with the boys every day. Never once have I even minded my lessons. Why? I don't care for them anymore.

"I didn't realise." I lie through gritted teeth, wondering why violin lessons are so important to them.

"What do you mean you 'didn't realise'? You've been going to them for years and now you suddenly 'didn't realise' you weren't going anymore?" He scolds, his voice gradually getting louder. I feel small, like his voice was a huge beast I was going against, defenceless. I have no explanation, and I do not want to blame my friends, especially since they did not do anything. The choice not to turn up to my lessons was all up to me, and I chose not to go.

"I don't wanna go anymore." I mumble, loud enough for the both of them to hear. This response must have caught them off guard, as the silence in the air almost suffocates me.

"What?" My father says. The tone of his voice, it sounds disappointed, but it sounds mortified at the same time. I don't dare to see the look on his face.

Without hesitation, I say the truth; "I dislike it."

"What do you mean, honey?" My mother asks in the most tranquil voice. Never have my mother and my father been so different. My mother is the sun that shines over the earth, whereas my father is the overcast with rain and thunder.

"I never had the passion for it. I'm a performer in dance and song, not an instrumentalist. I want to tour the world and perform for people." I explain, feeling the confidence to voice my feelings after hearing how soft my mother spoke to me.

"We've been paying for them for years. You're making us waste money, Yeosang." My father says. I can hear, without even looking at him, that he's holding back a shout. I feel terribly bitter, especially since the idea of violin lessons was their idea in the first place. If anything, they forced me into it.

"That was your choice, not mine. Don't be mad at me over a decision you made." I suddenly bite. I shock myself. For years, I've been biting back my words and taking whatever stones were being thrown at me. Now, I'm throwing the stones back. I guess I've had enough of being pushed around.

"What did you say?" My father queries after a long pause. I raise my head, and stare at him dead in the eyes, no life behind mine.

-"You heard me. Maybe next time, let me make decisions for my life."

I watch his lip quiver, and get chewed between his teeth. I can see from the corner of my eye, my mother's expression of warning; 'what have you done?'

"Come here." My father says quietly, motioning his fingers to the space beside him. I don't protest. I know what's about to come, but I have no other choice here, I can't run from it. I just have to take it.

I march to his side, my eyes still glued to his and my shoulders rolled back. I tense, bracing myself for what's about to happen.

And it happens. The palm of his hand strikes my face quicker than I could process, and the familiar, sharp sting rises to my cheek, the impacted area starting to feel warm. I clutch my face with my hand, the sound of my mother's gasp ringing in my ears.

That's definitely gonna leave a mark.

"I don't know where that attitude of yours came from but you better fucking get rid of it. Your career is in my hands. If you want it gone, you can carry on with that behaviour. If not, fix yourself." He warns. I flinch suddenly when I feel his fingers wrap themself around the back of my neck, forcing me to look at him. His eyes appear to be bulging out their sockets, his jaw clenching with rage. I have no emotion in me to even process the way he feels or looks at me.

"Am I understood?" He spits, waiting for a response, which I refuse to give. I flinch as he hauls a fist back before bing held back by my mother.

"Honey, that's enough." She demands, almost being thrown to the floor with the way he frees his hand from her grip. He throws me onto the couch and walks off, my mother dropping down next to me and cupping my face in her calloused hands.

"My Yeosang. Why did you do that?" She asks in almost a cry, gently rubbing the impacted area with her thumb, watching as it colours itself red.

Why did I do that? I'm sick of being chained by control. This is my life, and I want control over it.

"I don't know." I respond, feeling oddly numb inside. I watch as her eyes search mine for some kind of answer, but nothing. She can't find any.

"Wait here." She says, and she goes to grab the med kit.

No med kit will heal the wound my father left inside me.