Pieces Of Us

Chapter 9: Return to Chaos

Haein returned home the next evening, exhausted from a long day at work. Her steps were slow and deliberate as she approached the front door, already dreading the confrontation she sensed was waiting for her. She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, her hand hovering over the doorknob. The quiet of the hallway outside was a stark contrast to the muffled sounds she could hear coming from inside — faint echoes of music, laughter, and the clink of glasses.

When she finally turned the knob and pushed the door open, she was greeted by a scene of utter chaos. The living room, usually immaculate and pristine, was in complete disarray. Empty bottles, crumpled snack bags, and discarded cups littered the floor. Furniture was out of place, with a chair overturned near the couch, and the rug was stained with an ominous dark liquid. The scent of alcohol hung heavy in the air, mingling with the smell of smoke and perfume.

Soobin’s friends, a group of teenagers, were sprawled across the sofas and the floor, some passed out, others chatting animatedly, oblivious to Haein’s presence. Soobin herself sat on the arm of a chair, a glass in her hand, her laughter louder than the rest. Her eyes, slightly glazed, darted towards the door when she noticed her mother standing there, her smile faltering just slightly before she regained her composure.

Haein’s heart sank. She had been feeling unwell all day, the effects of her condition weighing heavily on her, but she had pushed through, thinking only of coming home and resting. Now, faced with this mess, she felt a mix of disappointment and exhaustion.

“Soobin,” Haein said quietly, her voice carrying a tone of calm restraint. “What is going on here?”

Soobin’s smile turned into a defiant smirk. “Oh, just a little get-together with friends. No big deal.”

Haein scanned the room, her gaze taking in the scene of teenage recklessness. She could tell some of the kids were far too young to be drinking, and she recognized the scent of cigarettes that clung to the air. Her stomach churned, a wave of dizziness hitting her, but she forced herself to stay composed. She did not want to confront Soobin in front of her friends.

“Everyone needs to leave,” Haein said, her voice steady but firm. “Now.”

There were a few murmurs of protest, but most of Soobin’s friends began to gather their belongings, sensing that the fun was over. Soobin rolled her eyes dramatically but said nothing, watching her friends shuffle towards the door. Once they were gone, she turned to her mother, her expression hardening.

“Why do you always have to ruin everything?” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. “It was just a harmless party.”

Haein’s lips pressed into a thin line. She felt a sharp pain behind her eyes, a warning sign of an impending time slip, but she pushed it away, focused on the moment. “Soobin, you’re underage,” she replied calmly, “and this is not how you should be behaving, especially when you know I’m not feeling well.”

Soobin scoffed. “Oh, here we go again. Playing the ‘I’m sick’ card,” she mocked. “Maybe if you weren’t so pathetic, you wouldn’t have to cling to it.”

Haein flinched at her words, but she remained silent, unwilling to escalate the argument further. She looked around at the mess that had been made, feeling a deep weariness settle into her bones. Without another word, she moved to pick up an empty bottle from the coffee table, starting to clean up the mess.

Soobin watched her for a moment, her expression still defiant. “Whatever,” she muttered, turning on her heel and heading to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Haein continued to clean in silence, her hands moving mechanically as she picked up the trash and straightened the furniture. Her body ached with every movement, but she kept going, refusing to let herself rest until the house was back in order. She had hoped that by staying quiet, by not reacting to Soobin’s provocations, she could somehow keep the fragile peace between them. But now, in the dim light of the living room, she realized just how far apart they had grown.

Hours passed, and by the time she was finished, it was well past midnight. The house was quiet again, but the silence felt more like an accusation than a reprieve. Haein sank onto the sofa, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of her illness pressing down on her. Her mind drifted, her thoughts growing hazy, and for a moment, she feared she might slip into another hallucination.

But she held on, reminding herself of her resolve to keep going, to hold on for Soobin’s sake. Even if Soobin did not see it, even if she never would, Haein knew she had to stay strong — for both of them.