⫣36⫦ Pent up Anger

An hour later, I'm tucked into a warm blanket on the living room sofa, a cup of hot tea and chicken noodle soup on the little modern table in front of me.

There has been a lot of fuzzing, my parents swirling around me to make me comfortable and asking me if I need anything else.

Finally they settle down on the sofa in front of me, and my father asks what exactly happened.

I sigh and start my perfectly fabricated story of a young girl, feeling guilty about what she said to her father.

I tell them how I walked to the bus stop and then suddenly felt this searing pain in my head and then nothing- until I woke up in the hospital.

I make sure there are no open questions.

I didn't have my school uniform with me because it was dirty and full with blood, so I asked the doctors to throw it away and lend some new clothes instead. And I couldn't call because my phone was stolen with all my other belongings and I was so confused and dizzy, I couldn't remember my parents phone numbers, which is why I insisted on being brought straight home.

All the while, I watch my fathers worried face in utter disgust.

How can he live with himself, knowing that what apparently happened to me is nothing compared to what these girls experienced?

How can he keep looking at that little, tiny wound in complete horror when he must have seen the photos of the sex-workers, their faces almost unrecognizable under all the bruises and cuts and their twisted, naked bodies on sterile metal plates?

Does he think I'm worth more than them, just because their life forced them to sell their bodies while I was lucky enough to have been born into a wealthy, respectable family?

I nearly loose all control when he finally speaks, reassuring me that he would do anything to get the assailant to pay for what he has done.

For me, he will break all hell loose to make sure my attacker is punished, but those girls are expandable and worthless?

But instead I only nod, shooting him a little smile and thank him.

And even though I don't mean it, I feel a pang of hatred for myself by only speaking the words."By the way, that doctor Lee is a cute one, isn't he?"

My mother suddenly throws in and my head snaps to her in surprise. I shrug my shoulders as nonchalantly as I can.

"I guess so. But you heard him, he's not a doctor yet."

"But he'll be one when he's finished with his internship, right?", she hums a little too enthusiastically.

I look to my father, who has gone quiet and contemplative. A thought suddenly snaps into my head.I turn to my mother with a small smile.

"I guess so. And I think he will be a very good one too. You should have heard the other doctors compliment him. He is one of their best, they said. And he has been very concerned about me too."

It's like I just told her it's Christmas tomorrow, her eyes sparkling. My father interrupts her then.

"It was very kind of him to drive you home personally. But doesn't he drive a pretty expensive car for an intern?"

I see the suspicion in his eyes- and the hope. Oh yes- I have laid out the bait and he just ate it.

"I asked him the same thing. He only said that his parents own a large business and that it was a present for his eighteenth birthday."

"Oh, how wonderful!", my mother exclaims and I do my best not to roll my eyes.

"We should invite him and thank him properly for his generosity and saving our daughter, don't you think so, honey?"

She turns to my father with big eyes. My father frowns for a second, but then nods.

"I think that would be a good idea, my love. I'll make sure to get into contact with the hospital and figure out his number."

"That's not necessary!" I throw in, maybe a bit too quickly.

But I know if my father contacts St. Maries hospital, they will reveal that there might be an intern by the name of Lee Jae-Min, but he definitely doesn't know a Lian Cheol.

They both turn to me with questioning eyes, and I smile nervously.

"He.. He's already given me his number. He said I should call, in case I have any questions or anything hurts."

I send a little prayer to genius Namjoon, who has written his phone number on a little piece of paper and made me put it in my pocket:

"In case anything happens before we can meet at the school.", he said, aware that I cannot come home with my phone or risk suspicion.

I pull the paper out and show it to them. My mother snaps it from my hands before I even have time to blink.

"Perfect. I'll call him right away and let him know how thankful we are and invite him for dinner. How about Friday? It's only three days from now. You think you'll be back on your feet by then, honey?"

I smile and nod.

"I already feel much better. I also think I can go back to school tomorrow as well."

She chirps a quick "Great" and leaves for the kitchen, already dialling the number on the paper.My father lifts a worried eyebrow at me.

"Do you think that's wise, Lian? You were attacked and spend an entire day in the hospital. Maybe you should rest for a day. You can go to school the day after tomorrow."

I lean forward and take his hands into mine. I have to fight to hold on to them and not draw them back like the touch burns me.

"I already missed an entire day of school. And I will go to bed super early. If I still feel uneasy when I wake up, I promise I wont go."

I smile innocently.

His face softens at my supposed diligence of not wanting to miss school but he shakes his head nonetheless.

"You are so responsible for your age, Lian. But you'll stay home tomorrow, no argument."

Then his expression darkens and I remember this look- it's the one he puts on right before he scolds me for misbehaving, which I haven't done in a long time.

His voice is cold, sending shivers down my back.

"Not like you did yesterday. I have to say, I was very disappointed about what you said on the phone. You might be an adult soon, but we are still your parents, and when we say something, you listen, otherwise something like last night might happen again, you understand?"

I don't.

"Are you... saying it was my fault?" I ask incredulously and that part isn't acted at all.

He sighs loudly, and the stern expression falls from his face, leaving only a worried parent behind.

"Of course it's not all your fault. But if you had come home right after school, none of this would have happened. We just want you to be safe, my darling. Me and your mother only want the best for you."

I feel sick again.

A terrible headache has started punching my head from the inside, but I know it's not just from the wound- it's all of this. This whole situation.

I desperately want to be with the boys, not with these superficial, cold people that pretend to care about me.

"I know, dad. And I'm sorry. It wont happen again. Is it all right if I go to bed now?"

"But you haven't eaten anything."

"I'm not hungry, dad."

He already gets up, shooting me a smile.

"I'll go make a phone call to the police and make sure they'll do proper work. Eat your soup and then go to bed, darling."

And with that he heads out, leaving me starring after him.

Every new sentence out of his mouth fills me with more horror and disgust.

How could I have lived together with him all my life- not even suspecting anything?

My mother rips me out of my thoughts as she re-enters the living room with a big fat smile.

"Can you believe it? He even has a secretary to answer his phone! He must be from a very wealthy family. And you sure did leave a great impression on him, darling. He agreed to come to dinner! And how charming he sounded! You have to be on your best behaviour, all right?"

I process all the information. Namjoon must have answered and understood what this could offer them: allowing Taehyung access to my house for more than just an hour and maybe a chance to get that phone.

I'm sure he is already sitting at his desk in his bunker, making plans and thinking about how to make the best out of this little gift. I suppress a smile at the thought.

My mother is still blinking down at me, waiting for an answer. But my mouth wont work the way I want it too.

"Mom?" I ask instead and the emotions rising up in me threaten to swallow me whole.

"Yes darling?", she answers, still on a high from the news.

"Would you love me no matter what?"

The smile falls from her lips and is replaced by a worried frown. She comes over to me and sits beside me on the sofa, taking my face into her hands gently. For a moment I am back to being a little kid, looking up at my mother with nothing but love and trust.

She smiles.

"Are you worried about a scar?"

I blink.

"What?"

She sighs and bobs my nose like I'm worrying for no reason.

"Don't worry, honey. I'm sure the wound will heal in no time. And there is always make-up. You'll be just as pretty as always for the dinner next week."

I need a moment to remember what she was talking about. But then it comes back to me: the summer party of the mayor.

"You think I worry about a freaking scar?"

I didn't mean for the anger in my voice to be heard, but it comes out anyway. My mother draws back like my words slapped her.

"I do not like that tone, young girl! And we do not use words like that in this house."

The words twist my insides and cloud my better judgments.

"Don't you love anything about me, mom? About the person I am inside?"

My voice trembles with fear and anger. I need her to say something real for a change.Something that gives me some hope that my entire life hasn't been one massive joke.

Her mouth has dropped open and for the first time, I feel like she is actually looking at me. That hope blooms, and grows the longer she looks at me with that open expression.

But then it's like watching a door bang close as her mouth shuts and that usual, pretty smile forms on them. The one I always thought meant she loved me.

The one I now know, is nothing but a well-trained mask.

"What a ridiculous question, Lian. Of course I love you. You're my smart, kind and honest daughter. You will always be my precious little girl and you have such a bright future ahead of you. You'll see. Everyone will be envious of you one day. Now get some rest. You need to feel better for Friday."

And with that she gets up and throws me one of her lovely, little goodnight air kisses, before she turns and heads out.

I sit for a long time, looking around the house, feeling utterly empty inside.

I can hear the muffled voice of my father on the phone and my mother's humming as she searches the kitchen for possible menus for dinner on Friday.

I rise from the sofa and walk over to the little fire place and the single picture frame on top.

The three people starring back at me look happy. A lovely, well dressed woman to the right and a handsome man to her left, each one an arm around the little girl in their middle. She smiles just as prettily as her parents.The perfect little family.

But I remember that day.

I remember the man behind the camera shouting instructions: Move a little closer! Smile a little brighter! Look happy in one, two, three!

And just as quick as the camera flash back then, I let myself admit the truth.

This was never a family.

Like this picture, everything with us had been fake.For my mother, I am nothing more than a pretty tool to boost her image in high society. To show off that perfect daughter off hers. That perfect, happy family.

And to my father- I don't know what I am to him, but that doesn't matter. He is a monster and he needs to be stopped.

And one day soon, those perfect parents of mine will realize that raising me has been the greatest mistake they ever made.

****

"So, is your mother already planning our wedding?" Taehyung asks the moment he sees me turn around the corner to their little hiding space perched between the alley between the two schools.

Seven pair of eyes turn to me.

They all came.

Namjoon is leaning against the crumbling wall, a baseball cap turned backside on his head and yellow sunglasses hiding his eyes.

As I've seen him a couple of times, he is sucking a lollipop again, around which he now grins at me.

Jin and Hoseok stand next to him, smiling happily at me while smoking.

Jungkook and Jimin have taken a seat on top of one of the closed dumpsters.Jungkook is sitting straight and letting his feet dangle over the edge, while Jimin is spread out all over his lap, looking like a little angle who just found his favourite cloud to rest on.

Yoongi- well, he looks positively passed out on another dumpster across from the two lover boys, legs popped up and his hands neatly folded on his stomach.

But when he hears Taehyung's greeting, he too shoots up and his face lights up.

Just like mine does as I look at them all and then my eyes, as always, stay on the boy now shooting me a wicked, lopsided grin while taking a long drag from his cigarette.

One fucking day and I missed him.

He hasn't been in school this morning, and instead of wearing the school-uniform, his outfit is screaming danger with black ripped pants and an almost equally ripped, tight t-shirt, revealing the tattoo of edgy lines travelling up his right arm.

But it's the way he angles his head as he looks at me, the hand not holding the cigarette buried in his pocket and his weight shifted to one foot that has my mind going crazy again.

I don't even bother if the others are watching as I head straight for him and throw myself in his arms.

He doesn't seem too surprised, the hand in his pocket already free and coming around my back, pressing me closer against him."Miss me?", He whispers in a low voice and as an answer I decide to shut him up with a deep kiss.

I may have started it, but Taehyung is the one who takes over the moment our mouths open and out tongues meet. The taste is as dizzying and intoxicating as always- and something I desperately need after the last two days.

Something to make me forget everything but the sensation of his lips on mine, his tongue brushing, licking, teasing mine and his body pressed tight against mine, filling that cold dread that has started the moment I found out about my father with a hot flame, burning it all away.

He breaks the kiss after we both hear the loud clearing of someone's throat.

It's like the air itself is taken from me, I'm that addicted to Taehyung already.

"That is some hot stuff," Jin comments, immediately followed by Jimin exclaiming: "They are worse than me and JK!"

I look up at the two boys in time to see Jungkook blush a deep red before I do the same.

Finally, I step back out of Taehyung's one arm embrace and allow reality to flood back. Before anyone else can say anything, my eyes fall down to the cigarette in Taehyung's hands.

"Give me that," I grind out and already take it out of his fingers.

I take a long, deep drag and hold my breath for a moment- a single moment where nothing and no one existed, not even myself, before exhaling the smoke slowly.

I throw my head back at the dizziness of the nicotine that rushes through my system.

"That bad, hmm?" Namjoon asks and let my head sink back down, looking at him darkly.

"Try living with my parents for a day, and you'll know. Seriously, my head hurts from all the nodding and saying pretty words like: 'Yes, dad,' and 'I'm so sorry, dad.' and 'It'll never happen again, dad', like everything is always my gods damned fault! The only exciting thing was when the police showed up and even then he basically took over the entire conversation, like I can't fucking speak for myself!"I take another drag, the others only watching me. Giving me space to pent out my anger I realize. And that's exactly what I need. To let it all out.

"I just don't get how superficial and false they are all the time!Like my mothers dumb smile and her constant reminders of how important it is to look respectable and pretty and don't say this and don't say that!She's like a robot, cleaning, cooking, lecturing me all the time, like she has got nothing fucking else to do in her life?"

I'm only half aware that I'm pacing, taking a drag after every second sentence, letting the words tumble freely from my mouth in ever growing yells.

"And my father! Gods, he's such a perverse, hateful, unbelievable, mindbogglingly, horrible person! He actually worries about me, can you believe it?What gives him the right to worry and care for his daughter when he's the one allowing other girls my age to be used by those vicious evil son's of bitches?How dare he pretend to be the hero, promising me to find my attacker and get justice for me when he never gave a fuck's sake about real justice ever in his pathetic, little life!?All he fucking cares about is his fucking career and his fucking perfect life and... FUCK!"

I kick the wall of the alley hard with my foot.

I'm panting, my heart rate at a maximum and my body shaking with the anger as I lean into the wall.

And then it all leaves my body, like saying it out loud has set those feelings free.

I turn and sack back against the wall, looking at them watching me.

Understanding and sympathy is displayed in their eyes, like they know exactly how good it feels to let out everything that eats you up from the inside.

"Feel better?" Suga asks, a little half smile on his lips.

I let out a shuddering breath and nod, finally able to manage a little smile of my own.

"Yeah, I do."

"Good," RM lets out, his features growing more serious.

"Because we only have half an hour to come up with a proper plan."