❤️THE JUNG'S FAMILY RESIDENCE❤️
Later that evening, the family gathered at the dinner table. The clink of silverware was the only sound, a stark contrast to the silence hanging in the air. Wooyoung sat, his face drawn and pale. His mother, Mrs. Jung, sat across from him, her eyes flicking nervously between her husband and their children.
"There's something I need to tell all of you," Mr. Jung began, his voice slicing through the heavy silence like a knife.
Wooyoung felt his stomach twist in knots. His father's tone was unsettlingly calm and detached, heightening the tension in the air. Each word seemed to fall like a lead weight, making everything feel even worse. His mind raced, trying to grasp what was coming, but he couldn't predict his father's next words.
"As you all know, the debts... they're too much," Mr. Jung continued, his gaze fixed on the table as if he couldn't bear to meet their eyes. "So I've come to a conclusion and made arrangements. Tomorrow, Wooyoung... you leave."
The revelation hung in the air, oppressive and suffocating. Wooyoung's heart dropped, each beat echoing with disbelief. The calmness of his father's demeanor contrasted sharply with the chaos swirling in his mind. He felt trapped, both by the gravity of the situation and the icy resolve radiating from Mr. Jung.
Wooyoung's world tilted on its axis. The debts his father spoke of had loomed over their family like a dark cloud, but to be thrust into the unknown like this felt unbearable. Panic flooded his thoughts.
"Leave?" he echoed, his voice breaking slightly. "Where would I go? What does that even mean?"
Across the table, Mrs. Jung's eyes widened with panic. Her hand trembled as she reached out toward her husband, seeking reassurance. But Mr. Jung didn't take it, his expression unyielding and cold.
Mrs. Jung sat frozen, torn between support for her son and the fear of her husband's wrath.
"Junghyun, what are you talking about? What do you mean, 'leave'?" Her voice trembled, her eyes wide with confusion and fear.
Mr. Jung's expression remained impassive. "I've sold him. To Choi San. The debts are settled. He's no longer a part of the family."
The words landed like a heavy blow to Wooyoung's chest. His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, everything around him faded into an overwhelming silence. His mind went blank and chaos swirled within him—he couldn't think, couldn't speak.
His heart raced as he stared at his father in disbelief. How could this be happening? The finality of his father's statements struck him like a physical force, leaving him reeling.
"Sold?" Wooyoung finally managed to choke out, feeling the heat of anger and despair swell within him. "You sold me?"
"No... no, please. Tell me you didn't... You didn't sell me..." Wooyoung whimpered softly, his voice barely more than a whisper.
The room fell silent, the air thick with shock and disbelief. Mrs. Jung's face drained of color, her mouth trembling as she struggled to process her husband's unforgivable revelation. Across from her, Saeron's eyes glistened with unshed tears, the weight of their family's unraveling crashing down upon them all.
"Appa... please, don't do this!" Saeron's voice broke through the silence, filled with desperation. "You can't sell him! He's your son and Mr. Choi is a very dangerous person don't you car about his safety and mental health?!"
"He's a burden, Saeron. He's never amounted to anything. This is the only way. It's done." Mr. Jung's voice was cold, his words sharp as ice, leaving no room for argument.
Mingi,his hyung, leaned back in his chair with a casual air, shrugged. "What's the big deal? It's not like he was going to do anything anyway; he never really fit into our family, so who cares?"
Wooyoung felt his heart crack at Mingi's casual indifference. The brother he had looked up to, the one who was supposed to be his protector, just dismissed him so easily.
Saeron's eyes darted between their father and Mingi, horror etched on her face as if trying to comprehend the callousness of her brother's words.
"Stop it, Mingi Oppa! He's still our brother!" Saeron's voice rose with anger, shaking with emotion.
But Mingi merely rolled his eyes, unwilling to engage further in the turmoil that had erupted around them.
"Min-gi hyung... please... don't you care? I'm your brother…" Wooyoung's voice quavered, the words tumbling out in a desperate plea for some shred of sympathy, but each syllable felt heavier than the last.
Mingi shrugged, his expression indifferent. "Honestly, you've always been a burden. Might as well go to someone who wants to use you," he replied, a smirk playing on his lips, devoid of warmth or understanding.
Wooyoung's heart sank at the coldness in his brother's voice. Mingi had always been the one to dismiss him, but hearing it so blatantly stung deeper than he could have anticipated. Feeling discarded and worthless, Wooyoung looked away, trying to stifle the emotions threatening to spill over.
Saeron shot Mingi a furious glare. "Oppa!, are you insane?" she exclaimed, her voice a mixture of disbelief and outrage. "He's your brother for goodness sake! You can't just team up with Appa and trade him like property!"
But her effort to defend Wooyoung was futile. Mr. Jung's face hardened, and he merely glanced at Saeron, irritation flickering in his eyes. "Watch your mouth, young lady," he reprimanded, dismissing her concern as if it carried no weight in this dire situation.
The atmosphere thickened, feeling almost suffocating as Wooyoung struggled to comprehend the reality before him. He had always been the one to seek approval, to fit in—to be worthy of their prestigious family that now felt like a cage.
His chest rose and fell in rapid succession, each breath feeling like an effort against the crushing weight of despair. His heart felt as if it were collapsing in on itself, consumed by a whirlwind of emotions. He blinked furiously, trying to clear the burning sensation in his eyes.
He looked at his mother, whose tears let loose a deluge of anguish that echoed within the confines of his soul. Then, he turned to Saeron, her face etched with horror, a mirror of his own turmoil. And finally, he glanced at Mingi, who remained unfazed, almost disinterested in the emotional turmoil unfurling around him.
"Min-gi hyung..." Wooyoung's voice trembled, reaching out to the only brother he had always admired, the one who he had always looked up to. Now, it felt like that bond had shattered before his eyes.
"I can't... I can't be here!" Wooyoung's voice cracked under the weight of despair. He stumbled back, pushing the chair away with a clatter that echoed through the tense atmosphere.
The world around him spun as he felt the suffocating weight of everything pressing down on him—a tide of his father's hatred, his brother's apathy, and a profound sense of helplessness that left him breathless.
He dashed down the hallway, the walls closing in as he sought refuge in the solitude of his room. He needed to be away from the judgment, the betrayal—away from the family that now felt like strangers.
"Wooyoung—ah!" Mrs. Jung's voice followed him, laced with concern, but all he could hear was the cacophony of his own racing thoughts drowning out her calls. He was drowning in the waves of his emotions, desperate for relief.
Once behind the closed door, he leaned against it, trying to catch his breath. Tears stung his eyes as he pressed his palms against his temples, wishing desperately to wake from this nightmare.
"This can't be real," he murmured to himself, the weight of his father's betrayal crushing down on him. The thought crept in like a dark shadow, whispering doubts into his mind. *He really did it. He really sold me.*
He thought of San. A man he didn't know.A mafia boss .Cold. Dangerous. He'd heard the stories. And now... he belonged to
him, just like that.
He sat down on the floor and opened his drawer with trembling fingers, revealing the blade hidden inside. It was small and sharp—an object he was no stranger too. He gripped it, examining the glint of metal as his breath caught in his throat and looking at his wrists.
"Maybe this is the only way I get to escape my fate,"he said dragging the blade slowly across his skin, feeling its sharpness bite into him. Blood appeared, bright and angry—a stark contrast to the turmoil within. It hurt, but not enough. Not like what he felt inside.
Outside, the sounds of hurried footsteps echoed through the hallway. His mother's voice pierced the suffocating silence. "Wooyoung! Open the door! Please, baby—open up!"
Panic laced her tone, a frantic urgency that clawed at his heart. Saeron's cries joined the chorus, filled with fear and desperation.
"Oppa, please! Don't do this! Talk to us!" Saeron's voice broke through the silence, her desperate cries echoing against the closed door. Each word felt like a plea that hung in the air, thick with emotion and urgency.
Wooyoung sat on the floor, the blade trembling in his hand, glinting under the dim light. Inside, silence reigned, broken only by the sound of blood dripping onto the floor—a stark reminder of the pain he was caught in. As the crimson droplets pooled beneath him, his breath grew shallower, weighed down by a mixture of despair and uncertainty.
"Saeron... Eomma…" he murmured weakly, feeling the weight of their concern crash against his wall of isolation.
Outside, the knocking escalated into desperate pounding, each thud reverberating through the confines of Wooyoung's mind.
"Jung Wooyoung, please! Answer me!" Mrs. Jung's voice was raw and strained, laced with a mother's fear.
"Wooyoung!" Saeron chimed in, her tone trembling with urgency. "We'll fix this, I swear—just open the door!"
"Mom…I'm s... sorry" he whispered, his throat tight with emotion. The blade felt heavy in his hand, a stark reminder of the choice he had faced. But as their words washed over him, he felt the weight begin to lift.
"Please, my baby, just open the door!" Mrs. Jung's voice broke, the desperation palpable. "Don't do this! I can't afford to lose you!"
"Please, my baby, open the door! Don't do this! I can't afford to lose you!" Mrs. Jung's voice broke through the silence, filled with fear and urgency.
But Wooyoung couldn't move. His hands shook as he pressed the blade against his wrist, the cold metal biting into him.
"I don't want this," he whispered weakly, but the words felt lost. The blade felt heavy in his hand as despair wrapped around him.
His vision started to fade, and the world slipped away. With one last breath, he let the darkness take him, collapsing on the floor. The blade clattered down, leaving behind a small pool of blood.
Outside, the knocking grew louder. "Wooyoung!" Saeron cried. "Please! Just open the door!"
As he drifted into unconsciousness, the last sounds faded away, leaving him in a quiet void....