𝗨𝗡𝗦𝗣𝗢𝗞𝗘𝗡 | p.sunghoon

𝟎𝟗.

AS SARIM sat in class, she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. It was like a weight on her shoulders, an awareness that pulled her attention away from her notes and toward the back of the room. She glanced back briefly and caught Sunghoon's gaze on her, a bored expression on his face, but there was something in his eyes that made her heart race.

Sunghoon was tall, with broad shoulders and an athletic build that suited his role as an ice skater. His sharp jawline gave him a striking look, and the way he held himself exuded confidence. But it was the small details that caught her attention—like the mole just under his right eye, which added a unique touch to his otherwise perfect features, and another one on his nose. She found herself wondering how someone like him could ever have been interested in bullying her.

But just as quickly as she felt drawn to him, she reminded herself of their past. She had no reason to forget the times he had tormented her, the insults he threw her way when she was already feeling low. That thought darkened her mood, and she turned back to her notes, trying to push him out of her mind.

After school, Sarim walked home, the weight of her day settling in. The moment she opened the door to her house, the familiar knot in her stomach tightened. Her father was sitting at the kitchen table, an empty bottle of beer in front of him and a scowl on his face.

"What took you so long?" he snapped, his voice low and menacing.

"I had to stay after for a project," Sarim replied softly, keeping her head down.

"Don't lie to me!" he barked, slamming his hand on the table. "You think I'm stupid? You're always up to something!"

Sarim swallowed hard, feeling the familiar wave of fear wash over her. She braced herself for the inevitable confrontation. Before she could respond, her father shot up from his chair and advanced on her, his face twisted in anger.

"Why can't you just be a normal daughter?" he yelled, his voice echoing off the walls. "You're always messing things up!"

Before she could react, he raised his hand and slapped her across the face, the force of it sending her stumbling back. Pain exploded on her cheek, sharp and immediate. She felt the heat of tears welling up, but she blinked them away, refusing to let him see her cry.

"Get back here!" he shouted as she turned to flee to her room. He grabbed her arm roughly, pulling her back to him. "You think you can just run away? You're going to pay for this attitude!"

Sarim felt the familiar knot of dread tightening in her stomach as he shoved her, sending her crashing against the wall. She took a shaky breath, trying to stay calm, but fear coursed through her veins.

"Dad.. please."

His face twisted in rage, and he raised his hand again. "You don't get to talk back to me, you little brat!" he snarled. He swung at her, landing another slap that left her reeling.

Once the chaos died down, Sarim stumbled to her small room, closing the door behind her and sliding down to the floor, breathing heavily. She wrapped her arms around herself, staring at the walls that felt like they were closing in. The bruises from her father's outbursts weren't just physical; they were emotional scars that lingered long after the pain had subsided.

A few hours later, she put on her uniform for her shift at the karaoke club. The outfit was simple but fitted well—a short black skirt and a snug top that made her feel slightly more confident, at least on the outside. She took a deep breath, trying to shake off the heaviness from her home life.

As she arrived at the club, the bright red lights and the sounds of laughter momentarily distracted her from her troubles. She walked in, greeted by happy faces and the music that pulsed through the air. It was a different world here, one where she could lose herself in the rhythm and energy of the night.

Sarim worked diligently, serving drinks and cleaning up after customers. She smiled at the patrons, but deep down, she felt a disconnect. This wasn't who she wanted to be, but it was the only choice she had right now. The karaoke club was her escape, her way of earning money to contribute to her household.

She served drinks, but her mind kept drifting back to him.

Sunghoon.

Why had he been staring at her in class? Did he feel guilty about how he treated her before? Or was it just a passing interest? It was hard to tell, and it frustrated her.

As the clock ticked closer to closing time, Sarim felt the weight of her two sided life pressing down on her. The girl who faced abuse at home was different from the girl who served drinks and smiled at the karaoke club. And as she wiped down the last table, she knew she would have to return to that life, one that felt suffocating and endless.