I watched the door close behind Jungho as he left my office, still laughing to himself about the strawberry keychain. The sound faded down the hall, leaving the room quiet again.
I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.
For a moment, everything felt… still. Calm. Like the world had finally stopped pressing on my chest.
It had been a long time since I felt something close to peaceful. I actually had to think about the last time. I couldn't remember. Maybe before I turned twelve. Maybe before expectations became a cage. Hard to tell now.
I leaned back in my chair. The paperwork in front of me blurred for a moment, not because I was tired but because a soft warmth lingered in the back of my mind.
Yesterday.
Suha laughing at the aquarium.
Suha crying in the movie.
Suha trying on clothes and forcing me to give opinions.
Suha smiling under the moonlight on the Ferris wheel.
It shouldn't matter. None of it should mean anything. I wasn't supposed to feel anything.
But that small, strange warmth… it stayed.
The day passed quietly. Meetings. Reports. Signatures. The rhythm was familiar, predictable. For once, it didn't feel suffocating.
I actually felt steady.
Balanced.
Peaceful.
But peace doesn't last in my life. It never does. It never has.
Evening crept in through the office windows, coloring the sky orange. I was finishing up the last few documents when my phone vibrated.
A message.
From him.
Father —
Come to my office. Now.
My stomach didn't drop. My heart didn't quicken. This reaction—lack of reaction—was muscle memory. I've spent years preparing for calls like this.
I stood, straightened my suit, and walked quietly to the elevator.
The higher the elevator moved, the colder the air felt.
By the time I reached the top floor, that short-lived calm from earlier had already started to crack.
I knocked once.
"Come in."
His voice was sharp. Controlled. Firm. The same tone he used when talking to employees who failed him. Except he had always reserved a special version of it for me.
I stepped inside.
Kim Jiseok sat behind his massive desk, papers stacked neatly, expression unreadable but eyes already narrowed at me.
He looked up slowly. "So," he said, tapping his pen against the wood. "You took a day off."
"…Yes."
He scoffed. "And you leave your work to Jungho."
I kept my voice steady. "He insisted—"
He cut me off sharply.
"Do you have any idea how irresponsible that looks?"
My jaw tensed.
"You're the COO, Jay. COO. And you think you can just wander off like some spoiled teenager while your brother handles your responsibilities?"
My stomach tightened.
"I didn't wander off—"
"Then what?" He leaned back, eyes cold. "Were you tired? Exhausted? Needed a break?" He clicked his tongue. "Pathetic."
The word hit harder than it should have. Childhood memories flashed in my mind like they were waiting for a chance to return.
"You always find an excuse, don't you?" he continued. "Always falling short. Always disappointing this family. I thought giving you a high position would make you try harder, but I see that was a mistake."
My throat tightened, but I stayed quiet.
"Tell me, Jay. Do you think this company runs on your moods? On your comfort? On how 'tired' you are?" He mocked the word. "Or do you simply not care?"
I lowered my gaze slightly. "I do my work well."
"Do you?" He laughed without humor. "Because last I checked, Jungho had to cover for you. Again."
"That wasn't—"
"Don't talk back."
I shut my mouth.
"You're the COO. Yet your older brother—the CEO—had to do your job for you." He leaned forward, eyes sharp. "Do you understand how pathetic that sounds?"
I remained still.
He stood up slowly and walked around the desk until he stood beside me. He wasn't looking at me. He was looking down on me.
"You think one day of working hard will make up for your failures?" he murmured. "You think this family owes you comfort?"
His words got quieter. Harsher.
He wasn't finished. He never finished that quickly.
"And after all these years, you still can't meet expectations. Not even the basic ones." His voice grew colder. "Your position exists to lessen your brother's burden, not increase it. But apparently you can't even do that right."
He paused for a moment then said again,
"You've been a disappointment since you were a child. No discipline. No drive. Always weak. If it weren't for your brother, you wouldn't even stand here."
There it was. The word he always chose.
Disappointment.
He said it like it was my name.
My chest felt tight. Too tight.
But I didn't move.
I didn't speak.
"You should be grateful you have a place in this family at all," he finished coldly. "Now get out."
I inhaled slowly, quietly, and bowed.
"Yes, Father."
I bowed slightly and left the office.
I felt the peace from earlier fade completely. Piece by piece. Like someone ripping threads out of a fabric until nothing remained but emptiness.
The hallway felt too bright. Too open. My ears rang. My steps were steady, but my chest felt like someone had pressed something sharp inside it and left it there.
Somewhere halfway down the hall, the elevator dinged.
The doors opened.
And Jungho stepped out.
His eyes instantly went to my face.
"Jay!"
I looked up.
Jungho was practically jogging toward me, expression tight with worry.
"Did he call you?" he asked breathlessly. "I just heard—what happened? What did he say?"
I shook my head. "Nothing important."
"Jay." His voice sharpened. "Don't lie."
I didn't respond. He read the silence easily.
His jaw clenched. "He yelled at you again, didn't he?"
I kept my eyes on the elevator doors. "Hyung—"
"What did he say?" he pushed. "Tell me."
"It doesn't matter."
"It does matter," he snapped. "You never wanted the day off. I forced you. I made you take it. Why is he blaming you for something I did?"
"It's fine."
"No, it's not."
I looked at him then.
He froze.
I didn't need a mirror to know what my eyes looked like. I could feel it. The shift. The way the softness from earlier—the slight glow of yesterday's happiness—had already been extinguished.
Back to empty. Back to cold.
The expression I've worn most of my life.
Jungho's anger flared instantly. "This fucking old man! I'm going to talk to him—"
I grabbed his arm before he could storm off.
"No."
"Jay—"
"It's useless," I said quietly. "You know it is."
He gritted his teeth. "He shouldn't talk to you like that. You didn't do anything wrong."
"It doesn't matter," I said. "It never mattered."
He looked at me for a long moment. Hurt. Frustrated. Angry. At our father. At the situation. At how normal this has become for me.
He whispered, "You were happy today. When I left your office earlier you actually looked… lighter. I haven't seen you like that in years. He ruined it. How can he—"
His fists clenched.
I looked away. "It's fine, Hyung. Let it go."
He shook his head. "I hate this. I hate how he treats you."
I didn't answer.
Because there was nothing to say.
We stood in silence until the elevator arrived.
Jungho spoke softly. "Jay… you're not a disappointment."
I stepped into the elevator without turning around. "I know you think that."
He flinched.
The doors slid shut.
And the peace I felt earlier was gone completely. Like it never existed.
Happiness was never...an option for me.