Chapter 9

Yuno's POV

"W-what... What the hell are you two doing?!"

Sunghoon's gaze sears right through me and Minji. My skin grows cold. I don't move. Don't breathe. Hell, I can barely think—just moments ago, I was basking in the warmth of Minji's lips, and now I feel like I'm drowning in an endless ocean.

Minji breaks the silence first.

"Sunghoon, I—"

"Don't," he interrupts her. "Don't even think about trying to talk your way out of this one, I saw what you two were doing. Minji, what the hell are you thinking?!" He glares at me with the same look of disdain I've been receiving all night. I'm sick of it. But I can't do anything about it. Not with Minji here. Not after what I promised her.

"I-I was... I just..." Minji squeezes her eyes and lets out a frustrated sigh. "Look, it doesn't matter what we were doing, it's none of your business."

"Actually, it is my business. Your parents told me to look out for you tonight and make sure that he doesn't cause any trouble," he retorts, pacing back and forth. Even after he calls me out, he doesn't dare spare me a single glance—like I'm something filthy, not worth being in his vision.

"He didn't!" Minji argues, her breath growing heavier. "I'm the one that kissed him, alright?! It was me! It's all my fault! So don't point your dirty fingers at him!"

Sunghoon scoffs, like we're some unfathomable impossibility. "How naive can you be?! Do you really think someone like him is right for you?! You're making a mistake, Minji."

"The only mistake I made was thinking you could grow into a decent person!"

The last of her words echoes into the night air. Sunghoon's expression drops, just a smidge, but I can see it. She cut deep. Deeper than I thought she was capable of. 

Shards of Sunghoon's broken glass crunch under his feet as he takes a tentative step back. The fire in his eyes is gone, replaced by something I can't quite understand. They're emptier, maybe even sorrowful.

"I'm sure your parents will love to hear about this," he mutters before walking back inside.

Minji and I freeze like statues, lost in thought. My gaze stays fixed to the ground, unable to meet her eye. What the hell can I say anyways? I can barely process my own feelings as it is, and now, I'm left dealing with a whirlwind in my head. How am I supposed to face her? I don't know what will happen now. Everything happened so quickly. What the fuck do I do?

"U-um..." Minji breathes, all the heat gone from her voice. "You should probably go."

My eyes shoot up towards her. "What about you?"

"I-I'll be fine. I think." She takes off my sweater from around her shoulders and hands it back to me. "H-here. You're probably cold."

I am cold. Freezing. But she's the only one that can warm me up. Not some sweater. Her. "Minji..."

She pushes the sweater into my hands, her touch lingering against my skin for a bittersweet moment. "It's okay. I'll be okay," she says, more to herself than me.

Before I can utter another word, she walks back inside, sparing me one more glance before she disappears behind the doors. There's an uncertainty within them. She sounded so confident before, but I can see it in her eyes that it's all just a front. God, I hope she'll be okay.

I sneak out of the building, carefully avoiding everyone from the banquet, and leaving this place of opulence behind. I never should have come. I never should have kissed her. Minji took the fall for me and I'll regret it every day. What was I even thinking? No matter what, something always goes wrong. I should've listened to myself.

I plop down onto the curb and send a text to my dad to come pick me up. The wind howls around me, laughing at my predicament, cruel and mocking. The moon watches from above, a silent witness to everything that just happened tonight. I wish it would tell me what to do. Whatever higher being that exists up there, I wish it would just give me a straight fucking answer—in fact, I wish it would just spare me some mercy and end it already. Quit giving me hope just to throw it down the drain. Fuck.

It's so goddamn cold.

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Minji's POV

The city passes by in soft blurs through the car window, streetlights smearing golden hues across the glass. Stars dot the night sky with their shimmering light, and a full moon trails by our car like a guardian of safe nightly travels. As beautiful as it is, my gaze is fixed on the window, not to enjoy the view, but simply to survive. One wrong look at my parents could be the final crack that breaks the dam.

Tense silence fills the car. Only the hum of the engine and the occasional bump in the road remind me that this is all real. My parents' silhouettes loom in front of me, and I don't dare look or think or even breathe in their general direction. I would be lying if I said I wish they didn't just yell at me and get it over with. The suspense of waiting is always worse than the actual punishment.

The familiar layout of our neighborhood enters my vision and it doesn't take long until we're rolling into our driveway. The car comes to a complete stop, the engine deafens, but none of us move. I clench my teeth to slow my breathing, afraid that one small peep will set them off, but I fear the uneven pounding of my heart can be heard from the front seat.

Mother leaves the car first. I start to unbuckle my seatbelt, but a single, frigid word from my father stops me in my tracks.

"Stop."

I gulp, sitting upright in my seat. Despite my mother's absence, the space inside the car feels impossibly smaller.

"Y-yes, father?" I say.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We trusted you to do the right thing. I let you invite that boy because I thought he was actually taking steps to better himself, but instead, you..." He trails off into a frustrated exhale. My mother's anger, for all its fire, is at the very least predictable—bearable. But my father's anger is something else entirely. Colder. Sharper. He doesn't even have to raise his voice.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Minji?" he utters.

I rack my mind for an answer, debating on defending Yuno or giving him a response that will satisfy him. If they just give Yuno a chance to show them who really is, that he's not at all what he appears to be on the surface, then they'll know that he isn't as bad as they think he is. 

But they won't listen. They never do. Not when it matters.

"I... I apologize, father. What I did was a... mistake," I utter. Another lie leaves a bitter taste on my tongue.

"A mistake," he repeats, sending a chill down my spine. "What have I told you before about mistakes?"

"Th-that we..." It's getting harder and harder to breathe properly. "That we learn from them."

"I will make sure you learn from this then. Give me your phone." He glares at me through the rear view mirror while he reaches his hand back towards me. A sense of panic rallies itself within my chest.

"W-wait, I need my phone," I beg, my voice faltering. "I-I need it to coordinate with the other student council members for prom prep, a-and I—"

"You should've thought of that before completely taking advantage of my trust," he shoots back. "Minji. Give it. Now."

With a shaky hand, I retrieve my phone from my purse. My fingers curl around it like it's the last piece of control I have left. Truthfully, prom preparations are the last thing on my mind at the moment. My entire world is contained in this little box. My friends. My life. Yuno. I need to make sure that he's okay. After everything that just happened, I just need to talk to him. To talk about everything. To talk about us.

"Minji," my father all but barks at me. "Phone. Now."

Maybe one day, I'll stop listening. Maybe one day, I'll speak up. But the words never come. I relinquish my phone, my lifeline to the outside world, into his palm. I can only watch helplessly as it disappears into his coat pocket.

"I'm only going to say this once," he continues. "You are not to see that boy ever again. If you have a project with him, switch partners. If he walks the same direction as you, you go the other way. Don't even think about going behind our backs this time because we will know. Do you understand?"

A shaky breath releases itself from my lungs as I fight back a tear. I want to scream, I want to fight back, tell him that he's being unreasonable and controlling. But I can't. I can barely breathe as it is.

"Y-yes, father. I understand," I answer.

"Good," he speaks. "Now go to your room. It's late."