The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of the prestigious International School in Munich, casting a warm glow over the polished marble floors. The halls were abuzz with students clad in tailored uniforms, their voices mingling in a blend of languages. Baek Soobin strode with an air of confidence, her chin slightly tilted upward, eyes scanning the hallway. Her school blazer fit her perfectly, ironed crisp, its insignia a subtle mark of her elite status. Today, like every other day, she was the centre of attention.
Her entourage, a group of girls dressed in their finest school attire, flanked her sides like a royal court. The conversation was lively, but there was no mistaking who the queen was.
"Soobin, did you manage to get that limited edition from Milan?" asked Emily, one of her closest followers, her tone a mix of excitement and envy.
Soobin’s lips curved into a faint smile. "Of course," she replied, her voice light with feigned nonchalance. "I had it reserved months ago. They delivered it to my penthouse last night."
A ripple of awe went through the group, each girl trying to mask their admiration with casual nods and murmurs of approval.
"You’re so lucky, Soobin," Lydia, another girl, sighed wistfully. "I can't even imagine what it's like to have things brought in from Milan."
Soobin gave a little laugh. "It’s not luck, Lydia," she said, her voice holding just a hint of condescension. "It’s about knowing your worth and making sure everyone else does too."
They walked into the grand cafeteria, where tables were filled with an array of gourmet dishes. Soobin’s friends immediately made their way to their usual table—one left unoccupied, seemingly by an unspoken rule. Soobin selected her lunch with care, picking only the freshest fruits and the most delicate pastries. As they settled down, her phone buzzed. She glanced at it briefly—just another message from her mother, Haein, checking in.
She rolled her eyes and dismissed the notification without replying. The gesture did not go unnoticed by her friends, who had learned long ago never to question Soobin’s coldness toward her family.
As they ate, the conversation flowed around Soobin—plans for the weekend, designer sales, and social events. Emily leaned in closer, eager to keep Soobin’s attention. "Soobin, my dad just got a new yacht. You should come for a weekend trip with us!"
Soobin gave a small, indulgent smile. "Maybe" she replied lazily. "If nothing better comes up."
Emily beamed, as if she had just won a grand prize. Yet, in the back of Soobin’s mind, there was a flicker of something she couldn’t quite place. She brushed it away, focusing instead on the attention she was receiving.
The day unfolded in a series of similar events—chemistry class, where Soobin “accidentally” spilled chemicals on a project she wasn’t interested in completing, and literature class, where her reading was so flat that even the usually patient Mrs. Heinrich had sighed in frustration. Soobin didn't care; she was above all of it, above everyone.
As the last bell rang, she felt a wave of relief. School was a tedious game she had mastered long ago, and the real excitement lay beyond its walls.
Soobin arrived back at her penthouse that evening, tossing her bag onto the nearest chair. The space was impeccably decorated, filled with the finest furnishings, and boasting a panoramic view of the city skyline. Yet, it all felt strangely empty.
Her mother, Haein, was waiting for her in the kitchen. She was dressed casually, in comfortable clothes that contrasted sharply with the formal uniform Soobin still wore. Haein’s dark hair, usually worn loose and curled, cascaded over her shoulders.
"Soobin" Haein greeted with a gentle smile, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her daughter. "I made dinner for us."
Soobin paused, glancing over at the dining table where an array of dishes had been carefully laid out—some of her favourites, meticulously prepared. Haein’s excitement was evident; she had spent hours in the kitchen, hoping this small gesture would bring them closer, perhaps spark a rare moment of connection.
But Soobin’s expression remained indifferent. "I’ve already eaten" she said, her tone dismissive. "I had a late lunch with my friends."
Haein’s smile faltered for a brief second, a flicker of hurt passing through her eyes. "I see" she replied softly. "I just thought it would be nice… for us to have dinner together."
Soobin shrugged, making her way toward her room without another glance. "Maybe next time," she muttered, as if even that concession was too much to ask.
Haein stood there for a moment, watching her daughter retreat, her shoulders slumping slightly. She turned back to the table, staring at the food she had prepared with so much care. With a quiet sigh, she began to pack away the dishes, her movements slow and weary.
From her bedroom, Soobin could faintly hear the clinking of plates. She felt a twinge of something—an emotion she quickly shoved aside. It didn’t matter, she told herself. None of it mattered.
Soobin stared at her reflection in the mirror, adjusting her uniform, and tried to fill the silence with the sound of her own thoughts. She was tired of the emptiness she couldn’t explain, the void that not even the most luxurious items could fill. She refused to acknowledge the longing that gripped her heart, the desire for something more than what her perfect life could offer.
And so, she closed her eyes, pushing it all down, pretending she was fine—perfect, just like everyone believed.
But somewhere, deep down, she knew there was a piece missing.
YOU ARE READING
Pieces Of Us
Random"Pieces of Us" follows the tumultuous relationship between Baek Soobin, a sixteen-year-old who lives a life of luxury and rebellion, and her mother, Hong Haein, a powerful CEO known for her cold, distant demeanour. As Soobin continues to push her mo...
