3000 Stars

Parental Pressure

When Taehyung's parents called him down to talk, he knew what they were thinking. They had had many such talks in the weeks following Seokjin's death. So he steeled himself, taking a deep breath before walking downstairs to meet them.

His mother was the first to talk once they were seated at the table, nothing between them but a small bowl of mint candies that they all ignored. She folded her hands on the table, taking a deep breath, and forced a smile at Taehyung.

"You've been out of the house a lot lately," she said.

Taehyung nodded, resting his chin in one hand and taking another deep breath.

"Is there anything you need to tell us?"

Taehyung shook his head.

His mother nodded, glancing at his father, who shrugged. Taehyung watched them exchange a series of expressions and nods before they turned back to him, both taking the same position.

"We've decided to send you to the therapist again," his father said.

"What?" Taehyung cried, shooting out of his chair. "Why?"

"Sit down," his mother chided.

Taehyung obeyed, but he scooted the chair back, wary. What was this? He wasn't having nightmares; at least, not where anyone could hear him having them. No one could have reported him to them, could they...?

"You'll go in the afternoon, right after school--"

Right when his matches were always scheduled.

"--And stay there for at least an hour every day," his father said, folding his arms. "You look like you have something to say. What's wrong?"

"It doesn't matter," Taehyung said. He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. If he didn't go to the therapist, she would report him. He would miss the fights this way, or be forced to stay out late to go to any at all. Certainly his ability to move upward through the ranks would be hindered.

Yoongi was going to win.

Why was the universe so determined to suffocate him?

"It doesn't look like it doesn't matter to you," Taehyung's mother said.

"Well, it doesn't," Taehyung snapped, standing again and shoving his chair into the table. "Is that all you wanted?"

"No, actually," his father said. "Sit down, please. We're not finished talking to you."

Taehyung obeyed, but his temper was starting to simmer. He hated this. Whenever he started to get a bit of elbow room in his life they clamped down like this, questioning everything about what he loved and trying to get him to see people who agreed with them.

"We understand you have friends, and like to spend time with them," Taehyung's mother said. "But we would prefer that you spend most of your nights sleeping here, and give us their contact information if you choose to stay with them."

Taehyung gritted his teeth to keep himself from cursing, forcing himself to take a deep breath. "Fine," he said. "Fine."

"If you have any problems with that now's the time to tell us," his father said.

Taehyung shook his head. His temper was threatening to boil over. "Is there anything else?" he asked. When his parents shook their heads, he stood and stormed upstairs, slamming and locking the bedroom door behind him. He barely made it three steps before he fell to his knees, slamming a fist into the ground.

Why did it have to be this way?

Why couldn't it be easy for him to leave?

He loved his parents. He did. He wished that love would let them trust him instead of making them add all these limits to his life. He slammed his fist into the floor again, letting out a low moan of anger, and stood, walking over to his phone and yanking it off the charging cord. The energy his anger brought burned inside him, rippling through his tense muscles and making it hard to breathe. He needed to fight, to release some of the energy pent up inside him, but he wasn't sure how many people would still be at the fight club at that time of day.

He didn't care. He needed a break from the stifling life he had been forced to lead after being exposed the first time. He navigated to the unopened text from Jungkook and sighed in relief when he saw that it was indeed an invitation to a rematch. He needed a rematch. He didn't know how much fighting he would be able to manage once therapy started.

He would need an outside form of therapy to deal with the effects of the one his parents approved.