A Crazy Little Thing Called Imagination // Hyunlix

◓32◓

Once he regained a steady rhythm of breathing, he rushed over to his wardrobe, trying to find something that fell under his mother's definition of 'proper'. Nothing much sprung to mind, and his options were limited, so he settled on a white shirt and black pants.

After changing, he tripped into the bathroom and quickly scrubbed away the makeup he wore, incredibly thankful that most of the bruises were healing and had become much more faded than before. He didn't have much time to spare, so he left his room in a hurry, tying his hair up in a ponytail as he sprinted down the corridor.

Before turning the last corner, he stopped for a breath and a last minute reminder to keep his cool. These type of meetings never bode well for him and often ended with him being sent to his 'room' until they left, and of course, that's when everything usually went to shit for the rest of the night.

He rounded the corner, walking into the livingroom as calmly as he could manage. Upon spotting his aunt and uncle, he greeted them with a smile and a bow, afterwards going to sit in his usual spot next to his father.

"Hyunjin! It's so nice to see you again, how've you been?" His aunt spoke, immediately directing all the attention onto him as he sunk back into the couch. He hated these so much, they'd ask stupid questions to kill time like they actually cared one bit about him.

He laughed lightly, nodding his head, "I'm doing good, what about you?" He asked, trying to be polite even though it took just about all of his will power to say it.

"We're doing just great! Yejis been telling us all about your little adventures, shame she couldn't make it today." She complained, sighing rather loudly as she turned back to his parents. "Shall we discuss the matter at hand? I believe it'd be better to do it as soon as possible."

Here we go.

His father sat upright in his seat, hands on his legs as he nodded, turning to his mother as she agreed. Before they even began talking, his mother leaned forward, looking over at him. "Before we start, I don't want to bore Hyunjin with all this business talk," she laughed, looking around the room, "You can go back upstairs to your room now, sweetie."

That was fast.

He nodded, standing up swiftly before saying a brief goodbye and bolting it up the stairs once he was out of sight. He ran directly to his show room, opening and closing the door in and instant. His heart was beating out of his chest, usually he'd stay until midway through the conversation, but sending him off before meant it had to be something about him, and they're pissed.

He collapsed onto the bed, mattress no better than the one in his actual room, but this one was covered by a thick duvet and pillows, giving off the illusion that the was treated with care.

The room was an eyesore to him, really. Grey walls and carpet floors, a wooden desk, double bed and nightstands, a lonely cabinet filled with business manuals, and an empty wardrobe. The only thing he enjoyed about this room was the constant feel of moving into a new house and putting the first few pieces of furniture down, the distinct new carpet and fresh paint smell never disappearing.

An hour flew by in what felt like a few minutes, lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling without a clock or anything to tell the time had completely ruined his awareness. He gave up counting the seconds by minute 4, the repetitive numbers interrupting his thinking and concentration. He had no idea how long he'd be stuck In here for with nothing to do, it could be another 3 hours or 3 minutes, but either way would serve as some sort of torture for him as he was invaded by the silence that gave him room to actually think.

If he tried hard enough, he could hear the faint murmurs of conversation from downstairs. It was too quiet to make out a word they were saying, but he knew it was there and the tones of the sounds were helping him grasp what part of the discussion they were on, whether it be the middle or the end.