WHAT A TWIST!

Chapter 102

The food on his plate might as well have been dust, for all Hyun Min could taste. The flavors and textures blurred together, numbing his senses. He forced down a bite, the dryness in his throat making him choke. A sudden, violent coughing fit seized him, and he pushed his chair back, standing up so abruptly that the silverware clattered against the plate. His voice strained, he excused himself, the words barely intelligible.

Madame Ji Hyeon's voice followed him, laced with a concern that seemed almost calculated. "Na Yeon, dear, go see what's wrong with Hyun Min."

Na Yeon's face lit up with genuine worry as she nodded and stood up, her movements eager. She seemed happy to escape the stifling atmosphere of the dinner table, if only for a moment.

Na Yeon slipped into Hyun Min's room, her footsteps quiet on the floor. The bathroom door stood slightly ajar, and she could see Hyun Min's reflection in the mirror, his face contorted in discomfort as he retched over the sink. A wave of concern washed over her, and she took a tentative step closer.

"Are you okay? Is it your stomach?" she asked softly, her voice a gentle whisper that barely carried beyond the bathroom's threshold.

Na Yeon approached him cautiously, her footsteps quiet on the tile floor. She reached out and gently placed her hand on his back, her palm tracing soothing circles as she rubbed his tense muscles. This time, Hyun Min didn't push her away or protest; instead, he seemed to accept her touch, his body remaining still and quiet under her gentle ministrations.

Na Yeon's eyes widened in surprise as Hyun Min didn't react, his stillness a stark contrast to her expectations. He calmly washed his hands and rinsed his mouth, his movements methodical. Then, he gazed into the mirror, his reflection staring back at him with an unreadable expression.

"Why won't you give up?" he asked, his voice low and even, directed at her reflection in the mirror.

Na Yeon's voice was resolute. "Because i love you.. I'll keep trying with all my might,until you love me back."

Hyun Min's gaze remained fixed on his reflection in the mirror, his voice a monotone confession. "I don't hate you. I just don't feel it – that spark, that connection. I don't see a future with us. I don't know why, but my heart doesn't respond to you."

He turned to face Na Yeon, his hands folding across his chest. "I like someone else," he said, the words dropping like a stone into the silence.

Na Yeon's mind reeled, a spark of shock igniting within her. "What...what do you mean?" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her eyes searched his face, hoping for answers. "Is it Chuchu?" she asked, her voice laced with a mix of curiosity and trepidation.

Hyun Min shook his head, his expression unreadable. "It's not someone you know."

"Can't you just give up?" he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "I'm telling you, I don't feel anything for you. It's like there's nothing there."

Na Yeon's response was immediate and desperate. "No, we can make it work," she said, her voice cracking with emotion. "We can find a way to make this work somehow. Please don't do this to me."

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly in a desperate bid to salvage their relationship. But Hyun Min's body remained still, unresponsive to her touch. He didn't hug her back, didn't even react. He simply let her cling to him, his lack of response speaking louder than words.

Hyun Min's hands gently but firmly pushed Na Yeon away, his voice calm and detached. "It's enough, Na Yeon. Let's go back to dinner."

He turned and walked away, leaving Na Yeon no choice but to follow.

*

*

*

The dinner had drawn to a close, the polite conversation and forced smiles lingering like the faint scent of perfume. Hyun Min pushed his chair back, the soft scrape of wood on marble echoing through the room. "I'll head back to school now," he announced, his voice a perfect blend of respect and detachment.

His mother's eyes fluttered with concern, her gaze darting to his father before landing back on Hyun Min. "Stay for the night, son," she urged, her voice laced with a desperation that belied her polished demeanor. It was a command wrapped in velvet, impossible to ignore yet easy to disobey.

His father's voice rumbled in agreement, low and authoritative. "Yes, stay for the night, Hyun Min."

Na Yeon sat quietly, her face a mask of serenity as she watched the exchange. Her parents rose from their seats, their movements orchestrated like a well-rehearsed dance. She remained seated, her eyes fixed on Hyun Min with an intensity that made his skin prickle.

With a slight bow, Hyun Min turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing through the hallway like a solitary drumbeat. His parents watched him go, but neither of them spoke up to stop him.

The evening air was cool and damp, the scent of rain hanging heavy over the estate. Hyun Min approached one of the drivers, expecting to be whisked away to school.

But the man's expression was apologetic, his eyes darting nervously to the side. "I'm sorry, young master. We've received instructions not to move the car tonight."

Hyun Min's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with possibilities. He pulled out his phone, the screen glowing with an eerie light in the darkness. 9 PM. The curfew would have started by now. A faint drizzle began to fall, casting a misty veil over the estate. With a sigh, he tucked his phone away and set off on the long walk to the gate, the rain gradually intensifying into a downpour that soaked through his clothes and chilled him to the bone.

Twenty minutes felt like an eternity, the rain pounding against his skin like a relentless drumbeat. Just as he reached the gate, he spotted a vacant taxi cruising down the road, its headlights casting a golden glow over the wet pavement. He hailed it, relieved to escape the deluge.

As the taxi pulled away, Hyun Min gazed out the rain-streaked window, his thoughts a jumble of emotions. What was going on? And why had his parents been so insistent that he stay..when they were treating him this way.

The questions swirled in his mind like the rain-soaked leaves outside, refusing to settle into a coherent pattern.