not too late. | woosan

~ 12 ~

wooyoung groans as he flops down into a seat on the bus. why did he have to be grouped with choi san and his friends, why couldn't he just do the damn assignment on his own? wooyoung was seriously considering dropping the class, but he knows that his parents would have his head if he did so.

as the bus pulls out onto the street, wooyoung watches the city pass slowly around him. he watches a happy little family cross the street, the parents smiling down at their child as he skipped across the road. he lets his thoughts drift, wishing that he could've had a childhood like that.

all things considered, wooyoung's childhood wasn't the worst. there were people who'd suffered more than he could ever imagine so he could never really allow himself to feel sorry for himself. he grew up in a wealthy family and never lacked anything physical. emotionally, however, was a different story.

the bus slowly screeches to a stop and wooyoung jolts awake, quickly standing up, realizing that this was his stop. he climbs down the steps, thousands of thoughts weighing on his mind.

as he walks down the street he tries to ground himself with the soft smell wet pavement. it works, if only a little, and wooyoung is able to breath a little more clearly now.

wooyoung arrives at his destination, a large, modern, mansion in a neighborhood in the north of seoul, seongbuk-dong. this was his family home that he always dreaded coming back to since the moment he moved out. but, since it was a weekend, he had no choice but to show up. his parents had to keep up the image of their 'perfect' family, and with that came monthly family dinners.

wooyoung walks up the long driveway reluctantly, hesitating in front of the door. he takes a deep breath before pressing the doorbell, his jaw clenched.

the front door swings open and wooyoung is greeted with his mother's stern face.

"wooyoung." his mother greets him, unenthusiastically.

"hi mom." wooyoung fakes a smile and follows his mother inside.

as he steps inside, wooyoung feels as if the air stiffens with his presence. he walks into the large hallway, a chandelier hanging from the ceiling with immense grandeur. he glances into the living room where his father was sitting, a newspaper layer out in front of him and a cup of black coffee in his hand.

wooyoung's father looks up from his reading as they enter the room.

"wooyoung's here, honey." wooyoung's mother calls out.

wooyoung's father hums in acknowledgment, quickly looking back down to what was more important; the daily news.

wooyoung rolls his eyes behind his mother as she leads him into the kitchen.