Searching Soul - a Mikhaiah au

Chapter 6: Rendezvous

"Are you sure you don't want to come with me?" Gibrael's voice wavered as she asked Soul for the third time that evening, her hand hesitating over the coat draped on the rack.

It was already 7 PM, the penthouse bathed in the dim glow of early night, casting long shadows that matched the unease in Gibrael's heart. She had been trying to persuade Soul to accompany her, but the response had been the same each time—a gentle refusal.

Soul, sensing the weight behind the question, sighed softly. "I would love to, Gibrael, really. But I'm new here, and I don't know anyone at the party. Besides," she added with a small smile, "I've been craving Nakji Bokkeum all day."

Gibrael's face fell, the rejection stinging more than she had anticipated. Her eyes, usually so guarded, betrayed a flicker of sadness.

Seeing this, Soul quickly added, "Don't worry, Gibrael. I'll drive you there, okay? You won't be alone."

"But we could just go for your Nakji Bokkeum after the dinner party," Gibrael suggested, her voice laced with desperation.

Soul shook her head gently, her resolve firm. "The Han Guk Kwan Restaurant closes at 8:30 PM. We won't make it in time."

A defeated silence settled between them, the ticking of the clock growing louder in Gibrael's ears. "Then I just won't go to the party," she mumbled, turning away.

Soul sighed deeply, stepping closer to Gibrael and resting her hands on her trembling shoulders. "Gibrael, it's your father's birthday. You have to be there."

"He'll just belittle me, remind me of how I've disappointed him," Gibrael whispered, her voice cracking. "Mom won't even defend me... she's too scared of him."

Soul's heart ached for her friend, for the pain she carried so quietly. "If anything happens, don't hesitate to call me, okay?" Soul's voice was firm, reassuring. "I'll come and get you right away."

Gibrael nodded weakly, and together they left for the party.

The grand hotel loomed ahead, its opulent façade reflecting the fading daylight. Soul pulled the car to a stop, her eyes flicking to Gibrael, who was clutching her hands together, her knuckles white.

"Call me if you need anything," Soul reminded her softly, squeezing Gibrael's hand.

Gibrael nodded again, her voice failing her. Soul offered a small, comforting smile before stepping out of the car to open Gibrael's door. They shared a brief, fragile smile before Gibrael forced herself to walk toward the entrance, each step heavier than the last. As she disappeared into the hotel, Soul reluctantly drove away, the weight of worry settling in her chest.

"Mom!" Gibrael called out, spotting her mother in the crowd.

"Gibrael, darling, I've missed you so much," her mother said, pulling her into a warm hug. "Come, our table is this way. Your father will be introduced any minute now."

They found their seats at the grandest table in the room. Gibrael looked around, her stomach churning at the sight of the fake smiles and hollow conversations that filled the air. This was a world she had never felt a part of—a world of profit and power, where people wore masks to hide their true intentions. She wondered how her mother managed to survive in it, and why she had been pushed into it against her will.

The emcee's voice broke through her thoughts. "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the man of the hour—Mister Daniel Cornell!"

As confetti filled the air and applause erupted, Gibrael's father took the stage, his smile wide and confident. He offered a few words of gratitude, and then the dinner was served.