THE EIGHTH | BTS 8th member

The relationship between Chaeri and her mother

No one will know the violence it took to become this gentle

❒ warnings: Dysfunctional family, food deprivation, bullying

7 years old Chaeri

"It hurts!" Chaeri whined.

She hated that time of that day, in those classes where your whole body is stretched to its limits and then pulled back tight. The pain always made her feel sick before she came home.

Her teacher kept her knee between her thighs and held both of them pressed flat to the floor. She had said that flexibility training were necessary, but the pressure was terrible.

"It will get better" her teacher insisted "You have to push through the pain, otherwise you'll never get good at this"

Chaeri gritted her teeth, trying not to cry. She hated how her tears always made the pain worse.

"I don't want to be good at this"

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9 years old Chaeri

"What happened?!"

Kim Eun's eyes were wide with anger as she looked at her daughter. Chaeri knew that look, she had seen it a million times before. It was the look of disappointment and anger and resentment, all rolled into one.

"I'm sorry" Chaeri cried "It just...slipped"

She tried her hardest, she had practiced over and over the choreography for weeks before going on that stage, to compete with other girls from all parts of France.

She worked hard in the hopes of winning, putting in long hours, catching every nuance of what she wanted to accentuate with her body language alone. But who would have expected a mishap like that?

The hat needed for the continuation of the choreography had slipped off the stage.

Chaeri had been trying to grab it, but she was too late. It had fallen to the ground and she had tripped over it.

"I didn't deserve such an untalented daughter"

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10 years old Chaeri

Chaeri was in her room. Her face was still adorned with the sparkling glitter she had used in the competition earlier that evening.

She had prepared so much for this contest, to the point of exhaustion.

Months of rehearsing the same choreography over and over again, perfecting every move, every expression, every breath.

She had come home with a beautiful, shiny silver trophy, just big enough to sit proudly on the shelf above her desk.

The walls were painted a light purple, and the trophy she had just received stood out in its bright tones.

"What did the first-place winner do that you did not?" Chaeri, who had not heard the woman's footsteps stopping at the door frame to her room, jumped in fright at Eun's low, stiff voice.

The look on her face was one of disappointment, but not surprise.

There was a minute of silence before the girl found the right words. She knew that it would only lead to more unpleasant consequences if she gave an answer that the woman would find stupid.

"She... she was perfect," Chaeri admitted, the admittance a shard of glass in her throat.

"Perfection is what we strive for" her mother stated "Anything less is simply rehearsal."