Just Twilight

Chapter 14

With her chin raised, Junyoung pretended to be elegant as she sipped from a glass of juice. The woman, who had been silently observing her, finally spoke.

“What does your father do? He must be so proud to have such a smart daughter.”

For the briefest moment, Junyoung froze, but it was enough to lose her grip on the glass. It fell from her hand, orange juice spilling across her clothes as she jumped to her feet.

“Junyoung, are you okay? Could someone bring something to clean this up?” Seungwoon exclaimed, quickly rising as well.

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry. My hand just slipped. I apologize,” Junyoung stammered, bowing her head toward the woman.

The woman smiled faintly, her expression unreadable. She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin before standing.

“You’re soaked. You should change into something dry. Kim, fetch her some suitable clothes.”

“It’s really fine, I can—”

“I insist. I can’t stand to see you uncomfortable,” the woman said firmly.

As Kim approached, Junyoung let out a quiet sigh, avoiding Seungwoon’s reassuring gaze.

How could I not have seen this coming?

It was such an obvious question, yet she hadn’t prepared for it. Even though she’d never been invited to a friend’s house before, she should have known better. Asking about parents and home life was the most basic courtesy when hosting someone.

No one had ever asked her about her father before. Not even in this small town. Not even she had dared to ask her mother about him.

What am I supposed to say?

“This way, please. It won’t take long,” Kim said, leading her down a hallway lined with framed paintings. Junyoung was directed to a room on the left, and once Kim left, she sank into a chair with a sigh.

The room wasn’t small, and it had a terrace overlooking the sloping landscape. Summer was just beginning, but the view was dull, as clouds obscured the sky. The leaves of nearby trees swayed weakly in the breeze.

Why is something so meaningless to others such a vulnerable topic for me?

Clenching her fists, Junyoung bit her lip. She didn’t want to be looked down upon—not by that woman, and certainly not by Seungwoon.

The door clicked open, and Junyoung quickly stood. Her eyes widened as the woman entered, holding a neatly folded set of clothes.

“I thought of something that might suit you and decided to bring it myself. Here, try these on. They should be comfortable.”

“Thank you,” Junyoung murmured, taking the clothes.

She hesitated as she began unbuttoning her blouse, realizing the woman wasn’t leaving. Instead, she walked toward the terrace, her back to Junyoung.

Just change quickly. The sooner, the better.

“I think I made a mistake earlier,” the woman said casually. “I didn’t sleep well last night, so my mind was a bit foggy.”

Frowning slightly, Junyoung continued unbuttoning her blouse, unsure what the woman meant.

“Your father isn’t around, is he? And...”

Junyoung froze, her wet blouse halfway off.

“...your mother doesn’t seem to be in her right mind.”

The woman turned slowly, her eyes meeting Junyoung’s. Standing there in just her bra, Junyoung felt paralyzed. The woman’s soft smile sent a chill through her.

“How admirable.”@@@@

Junyoung had never seen a smile so perfectly designed to humiliate. Her shoulders began to tremble as the woman took a step closer.

“I like kids like you. Children who rise above a miserable home life are small, but there’s something respectable about them. Supporting kids like you is one of my life’s joys. Some might call it a wealthy person’s social responsibility, but I prefer to think of it as...”

Junyoung understood the underlying message clearly.

The woman’s words weren’t just a warning—they were a barrier, ensuring that Junyoung would never cross a certain line with Seungwoon.

There was a tempting carrot, yes, but it was dangled behind an invisible wall. The promise of soaring to great heights was hollow, for the wings offered would always be clipped. It was nothing more than the illusion of freedom in a gilded cage.

Yet, if that carrot was desperately needed, how could she refuse?

What kind of life would be more humiliating?

Junyoung’s thoughts churned as the humiliation radiated from her like a suffocating fog. Gritting her teeth, she tightened her fists until her nails dug into her palms.

“Your name, please.”

“...What?”

The woman arched a brow, surprised. Junyoung raised her head and spoke firmly.

“I don’t want to remember you as just ‘Seungwoon’s mother’ or ‘that woman.’”

The woman’s narrowed eyes glinted as her lips curled into a slow smile. From the terrace, the sound of rain pouring down filled the room.

***

It’s raining.

Beomjin lifted his head from where he lay sprawled on the bed. The rhythmic patter of rain against the roof reached his ears.

For some reason, he hadn’t eaten anything all day. The rain only made him feel heavier, like his body was sinking into the bed.

He chuckled, remembering how Junyoung once scolded him for flopping onto the bed carelessly. “What if the whole thing collapses?” she had said, her voice full of irritation.

...I wonder if she’s eating properly.

Last night, wandering aimlessly in the dark, he’d passed by Seungwoon’s house. Even in the dim light, the imposing structure stood out, its blue roof gleaming faintly.

At dawn, the first rays of sunlight illuminated the left side of the roof, gradually revealing the house. Through the second-floor window, partially visible behind an uncovered curtain, he caught a glimpse of the interior. From what little he could see, it was clear the inside was as extravagant as the outside.

Shaking off the dew clinging to his jacket, Beomjin had returned to his hideout. He’d thought he would fall asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, but his mind was too sharp.

Even now, he lay on the bed, wide awake, his thoughts buzzing like an overworked machine.

Clicking his tongue in frustration, he jumped out of bed and ran down the stairs. For some reason, running down them reminded him of Junyoung’s voice, chattering away behind him.

Too many thoughts. Maybe I should work out.

He threw off his shirt and began doing push-ups, the steady rhythm grounding him.

Your mom’s beautiful, he imagined himself saying to Junyoung.

Of course, she’d probably hit him with that fiery temper of hers.

She hits people often. Should I teach her how to knock someone out in one blow? Though it’s not foolproof...

His thoughts wandered aimlessly as beads of sweat rolled down his face, eventually dripping off his chin. Despite the heat building in his body, he didn’t stop.

But no matter how much he pushed himself, his thoughts kept circling back. With a sigh, he stood, realizing this wasn’t working.

It’s raining pretty hard. Maybe I’ll go for a run and cool off.

Reaching for the discarded shirt, he was startled when the door burst open.

“...Yoon Junyoung.”