Smoke- lee heeseung

II

"I love my suffering; it is my joy and it is all I have."
— Fyodor Dostoevsky, Notes from Underground

»--•--«

"She got first place again. I'm so proud of her."

The words dripped from her stepmother's mouth like poison disguised as honey, the artificial sweetness seeping into Yuwon's veins and making her bite the inside of her cheek. A smile stretched across her lips, as fragile as glass, as she withstood the praise she neither wanted nor cared for. She knew Danyi wasn't proud—she never had been. The woman only reveled in the image of perfection that Yuwon presented, the grades that maintained the family's facade of excellence. It was all just another mask in the gallery of her stepmother's charade.

The wives of businessmen surrounding them—dolled up in luxury, their eyes painted with jealousy—watched her. Their gazes were sharp, filled with envy, as they wished their own children could be like her.

If only they knew the truth, Yuwon thought bitterly. If they knew the real cost of this perfection, they wouldn't envy her. They'd curse themselves for ever wanting this life.

Yuwon forced out a smile that felt like it was suffocating her from the inside. "I'll be upstairs in my room, mother." She bowed to the room of shallow onlookers, her polite facade still firmly in place as she excused herself. The moment she turned away, her smile evaporated, leaving behind the cold indifference that usually protected her.

Her footsteps echoed as she ascended to the attic, her private sanctuary—a demand she had made years ago in exchange for compliance. The attic was the one place untouched by the rest of the house's artificial grandeur. Here, she could at least pretend she was in control, surrounded by walls covered in posters that reminded her of the freedom she longed for.

Dropping her bag onto the bed with a soft thud, Yuwon headed straight for the drawer where she kept her vape, the one thing that gave her even a fleeting sense of release. She entered the bathroom and sat on the cold tiles, inhaling slowly as she exhaled plumes of smoke, wishing she could dissolve into the air as easily as the vapor did.

Today hadn't been the worst—not yet. Her parents hadn't noticed the two marks she missed in chemistry, but she knew it was only a matter of time. It was always like this, a ticking clock counting down to the moment when the world would tilt off balance and the screaming would start again. Every mistake she made was another scar carved into her soul, another reminder that no matter how hard she tried, she'd never be enough. Never loved.

She used to love studying once, when she was a child, before it became a prison. Back then, knowledge had been an escape, something she found joy in. But as she grew, so did the expectations. Every A, every perfect score became another brick in the wall of her cage. And now, it was all just a means to an end, a way to survive the relentless demands placed on her.

The water filling the tub reflected the dim light of the bathroom as she stripped off her uniform, letting the fabric pool at her feet. She dipped into the water, feeling the heat loosen the knots in her muscles, but her mind refused to unwind. She knew what awaited her when her father got home—the same routine, the same cold disappointment veiled in thinly masked threats.

Her thoughts drifted to her mother, the real one, the woman who had vanished from her life before Yuwon could even form memories of her. Everyone else in the world believed that Kim Danyi was her mother, but it was a lie. Her true mother was out there somewhere, alive. Her father had never spoken of her death, and for as long as Yuwon could remember, he had never lied. She clung to that small, stubborn hope even when the rest of her life seemed to slip through her fingers.