Happiness ♥Red Velvet♥

Chapter 19: Falling (a sub-story)

14 years ago

Y/n's POV

I was sat on the veranda, patches of sunlight falling in through the leaves of trees so tall I wondered how they'd gotten there. My flip flops were discarded, next to the plant pot nothing ever grew in. My mother was sat on the opposite end of the mint-coloured wood, looking extremely bothered by the heat. I didn't mind, though. I had my ice-lolly and chalk, and that was all I needed to stay cool and happy. Somehow, I'd used up all the green chalk (probably drawing grassy fields countless times) and was hunting through the colourful mess that was my chalk-box. At that moment, my mother received a phone call, and I stopped what I was doing to eavesdrop.

"Of course I will get you the money!" she raised her voice, not to a shout but a loud whisper. My English was getting pretty good, so I could make out almost every single word.

"No! I'll get it to you by next week, I promise!... That's none of your business! My husband doesn't know and my daughter..." she paused and looked at me staring back at her. "I'll call you back, Margaret. This isn't about you! It's about my spying daughter!"

She touched the screen, then tossed the phone onto the garden table, glaring at me.

"Y/n. If you dare tell your father what you just heard-"

"Eomma, I was just looking for chalk." I said in Korean, not wanting to get in trouble.

She hesitated, wondering whether I could have possibly understood what had been going on, then decided better of it.

"I know you are a clever girl, Y/n, but sometimes cleverness can kill you. I hope you become more than I am one day."

"I'm going to be a singer!" I shouted with delight. "La la LAAAAA!"

"You stop this nonsense at once!" she scolded. "You will go to university back home in England and become a lawyer or a physician or something suitable."

I thought for a moment. "No, I still think I will be a singer. Those other jobs sound boring. I will sing and dance and we will have fans who love us! I'll get rich doing something fun!"

The mention of money drained the colour from her cheeks and she looked like she wished I wasn't her child.

"There will be no more discussion of this." she said shortly, and stormed into the house.

Later that evening, we were all sitting around the table in relative silence, watching the TV go on about antique spoons, letting our dinner go cold. Well, my parents were. I never let my food get cold.

"So, Y/n." said my father, when the programme had finished. "I hear congratulations are in order."

I looked up from my tteokbokki, a rice cake still in my mouth.

"You received 100% in your latest English exam. Well done. Your teachers say you have the potential to become an English teacher when you are older."

"Oh, I won't do that." I said. "I will be a singer!"

I saw my mother's fists clench, turning the skin pale and cracked.

"Don't be silly, Y/n. You'll go to university, just like we said earlier."

"Now, now, Angela. Let the child dream."

"But it just puts silly ideas into her head! I won't allow it!"

"She can be anything she wants to be!"

"No! She will get a suitable job and make good, honest money."

"La la la! I will dance and sing and do whatever I want when I'm famous!"

"I SAID ENOUGH!" shouted my mother, and she slapped me across the cheek. For a moment I'd seen nothing, then my father's anxious face appeared in front of my eyes.

"Y/n! Are you okay?!"

I was stunned, unable to do anything but stare right in front of me, where my unfinished tteokbokki sat.

"Y/n," said my mother. "I didn't mean to-"

A sudden rush of pain made my eyes sting with tears and I ran to my room, but stopped at the hall mirror to inspect the damage. Loud, angry voices rose from the dining room, and I wiped my nose on my sleeve.

"She wasn't hurting anyone! Let her have a dream!"

"Don't be soft on her! She's cleverer than you know!"

"She'll probably forget about it in a couple of years but its good for her to have an aim in life!"

"We need her to have a stable life, not a failed star with no home and no money!"

"What was the problem? Now look what you've done!"

"I didn't- what's the point of this?!"

I ran upstairs, trying to get away from the noise, my cheek stinging. My foot caught on my schoolbag and I tumbled down the stairs. The noise must have attracted my parents' attention because it went silent, and I crawled back up, as fast as I could. Slamming my bedroom door behind me, I grabbed my sports bag, emptied the contents on the floor and raced to find what I needed. A blanket, a torch, a peanut butter sandwich I hadn't eaten yet, and a couple other things. I hesitated on the framed picture of me and my family, then reached out, and pushed it onto the floor, broken glass scattering everywhere. Pulling up the window, I took one look back at the room I used to call home and slid out onto the garage roof. I was going to succeed as a singer, and no one was going to stop me.