Lines Crossed (SanSang)

37

(A/N please consider that this is all fictional and there is no purpose of hate or anything else to anyone included in this story!)

San trudged back home after an hour of wandering the streets, trying to gather his thoughts. His chest felt heavy, but he knew he couldn't avoid the inevitable. As he reached the door, he was startled to see his father standing there, arms crossed and a stern look etched on his face.

"You care to explain, Choi San?" his father's voice boomed, cutting through the stillness of the night.

San froze in his tracks, his eyes darting to the ground. "What...?" he managed, though he knew exactly what this was about.

"The in-laws called," his father said sharply. "They've called off the wedding. The engagement. Do you know how humiliating this is? What is going on with you?"

San sighed, brushing past him to enter the house. He dropped his bag by the door and made his way to the living room, his father following closely behind.

"We need to talk," San said quietly, his voice tight.

"You're damn right we do!" his father snapped.

San turned, facing him. "I mean it," he said firmly, though his hands trembled. "I need to tell you something important."

His father crossed his arms, his face like stone. "Well, go on then."

San hesitated, the words caught in his throat. He looked anywhere but his father's eyes—the floor, the couch, the framed photo of their family on the wall. Finally, he took a deep breath.

"I... I called it off," San admitted.

His father's expression darkened immediately. "What?"

San pressed on, his voice wavering but resolute. "I called off the engagement because... I can't marry her. I don't love her. I don't even like her in that way. And it wouldn't be fair to either of us to pretend otherwise."

His father scoffed, pacing the room. "Love? What does love have to do with it? This isn't some childish romance, San. This is about our family, our reputation!"

San clenched his fists, his voice rising. "I know that! But I can't sacrifice my life for something I don't believe in!"

His father stopped pacing, turning to glare at him. "Then what do you believe in, San? Who is it, huh? Is there someone else? Some girl you think is worth throwing all of this away for?"

San hesitated again, his chest tightening. This was it. He had to say it. "There is someone," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it's... not a girl."

The room fell deathly silent.

"What did you say?" his father asked, his voice low and dangerous.

San stood his ground, though his knees felt weak. "It's not a girl," he repeated, louder this time. "I'm in love with someone else. A guy."

His father's face contorted in disbelief and anger. "You've lost your mind," he spat. "This is insanity. You're confused, San. You've spent too much time in that city, around... people who've poisoned your thinking!"

"I'm not confused!" San shouted, his voice breaking. "This isn't some phase or mistake. This is how I feel. This is who I am!"

His father's face grew red with fury. "Who is it?" he demanded. "Tell me who put these ideas in your head!"

San shook his head, refusing to answer. "It's not about them," he said. "This is about me. My feelings. And I've felt this way for a long time, but I was too scared to admit it. Even to myself."