Dancing With The Devil

crash into me.

A few days had passed since the meeting. Jaehyun and I spent most of our time training together and I found myself learning something new about him everyday. I didn't think it was possible to meet someone who was so similar to me. Even though he was seven years older than me, he felt closer to being my twin than anyone I've ever met. Dad has just returned from the warehouse doing business in his usual suit and briefcase.

"Should we tell him about Mom now?" Jaehyun suggested.

"...Probably" a slight skip in my voice unintentionally exposed my hesitation to speak to my father.

"What?" Jae paused, practically boxing me into a wall.

"I'm..." it came out as a whisper, like I was afraid the walls of this mansion might steal my secret, "...scared"

"Of what? A white haired old man?"

"He's going to lash out at us and whenever Dad was angry... he walked away with me on the floor bleeding"

"Em" he held me at arms length away, "we're adults, he can't hurt us anymore and if he tries, I wouldn't let him anywhere near you, okay? He's never gonna hurt you again, I promise"

"Okay" I nodded. If there was anyone with a temper worse than Dad's, it was Jaehyun but luckily he was on my side. I don't know if I'd be able to do any of this family stuff without him. I'd never let myself fall weak in front of anyone but my brother was the exception. And I guess Jungkook too but that was unintentional.

"Come on" he nudged me forward and we entered Dad's office together. The glass double doors that marked the entrance had been replaced so many times in history from all the fights that had broke out, it's a miracle Dad hadn't given up on such an unnecessary door.

He sat with a lazy posture in that massive leather chair, shuffling through some paperwork. A computer quietly buzzing in front of him and his usual glass of bourbon in a scoffed hand. Jaehyun led the way, clearing his throat rather than a formal greeting.

I cowardly stood behind my brother, peering from behind his shoulder. I wasn't afraid of many things, hardly anything, but the old man sitting before me was enough to make my stomach turn. I guess we all grow out of childhood trauma but childhood trauma never grows out of us.

"What do you want?" He asked, a cigar bobbing in his mouth as he spoke. He had a small beard freshly trimmed and an all too perfectly even tie.

"We need to talk"

"Fill up my glass, would you?" He said, handing Jaehyun an empty glass.

"No," he said, sternly. Dad looked up angrily at the disobedience and immediately I felt my face blush and my knees weak. I held my breath, awaiting the violent outburst that never came. He calmed himself down and brushed it off.

"Fine. I'll get it myself" he walked over to his glass side table and filled up his drink, "what is so important that my bourbon had to wait?"

Jaehyun turned his head to the side to silently question me.

"Mom," I spit out as if the words were poison on my tongue. If I blinked, I may of missed the split second flinch in my father's silhouette. He turned around abruptly and furrowed his eyebrows at us. His fingers tapping on the glass in his hand. "What about her?"

"Did you love her?" The words spilled from my mouth without any rehersal or control. As Jaehyun noticed that I had eased up, he took a step away and leaned against the bookshelf that made up the opposite wall.

"If you're asking me for a story about how your mother was the love of my life, I'm sorry kid, but I don't have one to share" he leaned back against the glass table dedicated to his alcohol. "I think you kids are old enough that I don't need to make you think of your mother as some grace of God. She was a woman. She came. She left. That's all I have to say"