lovely boxer ✰ lee minho

58: She could never love her right

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

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Oh, all that I did to try to undo it
All of my pain and all your excuses
I was a kid but I wasn't clueless
(Someone who loves you wouldn't do this)
All of my past, I tried to erase it
But now I see, would I even change it?
Might share a face and share a last name, but
(Someone who loves you wouldn't do this)

-Family Line - Conan Gray-

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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.  

"If Mr. and Mrs. Bang are going to be there, that means... he'll be there as well."
I mumbled to myself, frustrated.

When I arrived, the house was as pristine as ever. Polished marble floors, perfectly arranged furniture—it was like stepping into a different world, one that was always in motion but never truly alive.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady the nerves that had begun to tighten in my chest, and made my way inside. Home, I reminded myself. But the word felt foreign, cold, as though it belonged to someone else.

I walked through the halls to the kitchen, hoping to find my mom, but it was empty, save for the chefs moving about with dishes in hand, arranging them meticulously before carrying them out to their destinations. The rhythm of their steps seemed mechanical, a reminder that this place was run by routines, not by warmth.

"Ma'am, your family is waiting for you in the dining room. Please join them," one of the maids said, her voice polite but distant, as if she were speaking to a stranger rather than someone who should belong here.

I nodded, though a part of me resisted the notion of stepping into the dining room. It felt more like a command than an invitation. The tension in my chest tightened, but I forced myself to move.

"Sorry I'm late, I was caught in some traffic," I said, the words coming out more smoothly than I felt. I could already hear the lie in my voice, the rehearsed tone masking the truth—that I had stalled for far too long, aimlessly driving in circles, trying to delay the inevitable. The truth was, I had no desire to face whatever this dinner was going to bring forth.

"Oh, Hana, finally!" Mrs. Bang beamed, her smile wide and insistent. "My, I haven't seen you in so long. What a pretty lady you've become since the last time I saw you."

The words were syrupy sweet, but they felt strangely hollow, like an empty compliment lingering between us, as if she thought that saying things like that would keep me on their side. The last time she had seen me was just a few months before I moved out, so technically, she wasn't exaggerating.

"It's nice to see you too, Mrs. Bang," I said, forcing a smile. "Your skin seems to be glowing. Are you sure you aren't aging backwards?"
The compliment felt almost automatic, a way to fill the silence between us with something that sounded genuine—when, in truth, I was just trying to mask the distance that maybe only I felt.

Mrs. Bang laughed, a high, tinkling sound that seemed to fill the room. "Oh, Hana, you're such a charmer," she said, brushing a hand over her face as if to downplay my comment. 

I nodded, not sure how to respond. Her words hung in the air, but they didn't quite reach me. I had heard it all before—the compliments, the pleasantries, the praise—but it all felt so empty now that I knew it was all a facade, a mask people put up to make things seem easier than they really were.