ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 4: ᴍɪꜱᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴏᴏᴅ

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-ˋˏ J̳̿͟͞U̳̿͟͞N̳̿͟͞G̳̿͟͞ W̳̿͟͞O̳̿͟͞O̳̿͟͞Y̳̿͟͞O̳̿͟͞U̳̿͟͞N̳̿͟͞G̳̿͟͞

The tumult at home had grown unbearable lately, pushing me to seek refuge in the more tranquil environment of Yeosang and Jongho's apartment. It became my daytime sanctuary, a place where I could escape the relentless discord and regain some semblance of peace before stealthily returning at night, timing my arrivals to the predictable rhythms of my parents' sleep.

However, today's plan deviated from my usual routine. We were headed to the Choi mansion to discuss prom arrangements—a task I was less than enthusiastic about, especially given that it involved spending time with San, whose snobbish demeanor often grated on me. Despite my reluctance, Yeosang had pleaded with me to come along for support, and I found myself unable to say no to him and Jongho.

As we stepped out of the car, I pulled my hands deeper into the pockets of my oversized jumper, an unconscious shield against the chill and the looming discomfort of the evening. We approached the grand entrance of the Choi mansion, and as the door swung open, San's mother greeted us with polite detachment, directing us towards the meeting room.

Walking through the foyer, I couldn't help but let my gaze wander over the walls adorned with pictures of San—moments captured with his family, his various certificates, and his notable accomplishments in karate prominently displayed. Each frame seemed to echo his family's expectations and his success in meeting them, a stark contrast to the chaotic unpredictability of my own life.

We entered the meeting room, I steeled myself, preparing for an evening of compulsory social niceties and planning. Yeosang and Jongho, sensing my discomfort, stayed close, their presence a comforting reminder that I wasn't alone in this opulent but intimidating setting. Their solidarity, subtle but solid, helped me gather the resolve to face the evening ahead, including whatever challenges San might throw my way.

The meeting room exuded the same meticulous and extravagant design as the rest of the mansion, with a large polished table at the center surrounded by plush leather chairs. It was a setting that seemed more suited to high-stakes business deals than high school prom planning, reflecting the serious undertone that often accompanied anything related to the Choi family.

San was already there, standing by a large window that overlooked the meticulously manicured gardens. His posture was relaxed, but there was a certain rigidity to it, the kind that came from years of disciplined training and high expectations. He turned as we entered, his expression schooled into one of polite indifference.

"Thanks for coming," San began, his tone formal. "I think we can create something memorable for everyone." Despite the politeness of his words, there was a perceptible coolness, a distance that he maintained even in his welcome.

Yeosang, ever the peacemaker, took the initiative to break the initial awkwardness. "We have some ideas we'd like to share," he said, gesturing to Jongho who pulled out a folder filled with notes and sketches. Their enthusiasm was a stark contrast to the formal atmosphere of the room, bringing a much-needed warmth to the proceedings.

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