Speeding Into Trouble || Taekook

2

Taehyung sat at the dinner table like a prisoner awaiting sentencing. His back was straight as a rod, his hands clasped tightly in his lap, and his eyes glued to the plate of food that he hadn’t touched.

Not because he wasn’t hungry, but because the tension in the room was thicker than the gravy congealing on his rice.

Across the table, his father sat like a storm cloud ready to burst. The glass in his hand slammed onto the table with a deafening clink, and Taehyung winced inwardly. Here it comes.

“Taehyung!” His father’s voice sliced through the air like a whip. “How many times must I tell you to befriend Mr. Lee’s daughter? Are you waiting for her to propose to you? Do you even know what shame is?”

Taehyung pressed his lips together, his jaw tightening. He’d heard this speech so many times he could recite it in his sleep.

“Father,” he began cautiously, like someone defusing a bomb, “I’ve told you—I’m not ready to get married.”

“NOT READY?!” His father’s fist hit the table with such force that even the salt shaker leapt in fear.

“What are you not ready for? To stop embarrassing this family? To stop acting like a rebellious teenager? You’re nearly thirty! What are you waiting for, Santa Claus to deliver you a wife?”

“Dear,” his mother interjected softly, as if she could calm the beast. “Please don’t shout.”

But his father wasn’t having it. “Oh, don’t ‘dear’ me! He needs a reality check!”

He jabbed a finger at Taehyung, who continued to stare resolutely at his rice like it held the answers to life.

“You will marry Sara Lee, and that’s final! She’s perfect for you—polite, an educated woman. What more do you want?”

Someone who isn’t a woman, Taehyung thought bitterly, his fists curling under the table.

“Your father’s right, Taehyung-ah,” his mother added gently, her attempt at soothing only adding to his frustration.

“Sara is lovely. You should consider yourself lucky.”

“Lucky?” Taehyung’s voice cracked despite himself, and he cleared his throat. “Eomma, I don’t even like her—”

“YOU DON’T NEED TO LIKE HER,” his father thundered, standing up and towering over him. “This isn’t some fairy tale! This is real life. Love doesn’t matter. Reputation does. Stop being selfish.”

Taehyung felt his nails digging into his palms, the sting a reminder to stay quiet.

Taehyung wanted to yell, to tell them that he wasn't being selfish, he was trapped. He wanted to scream, I'm gay! I don't even like women, let alone Sara! I will never be the son you want me to be!

But he knew better. Outside these walls, his father was a man of respect, power, and influence-a figure people admired.

No one knew how ruthless he was behind closed doors, how controlling.

His father's wrath was the one thing that still made him keep his mouth shut. He was used to the helplessness in his mother's eyes, the harshness in his father's tone.

So he just stared at his plate, the taste of bile rising in his throat. "Okay... I'll try," he whispered, his voice hollow.

His father grunted in approval, leaning back. "Good. About time you started listening."

His mother's hand patted his lightly, her smile forced. "You'll see, Taehyung-ah. Sara is perfect for you."

Taehyung stayed silent, his mind screaming. He felt the weight of it all, the suffocating pressure of keeping up appearances, the lies he had to maintain.