Til Death Do Us Part

“Jyeon, take her hand.” Jyeon’s mother picks up his hand by the wrist and forces it into mine, stopping me from venturing into the open doorway of the ballroom, where she’s standing guard for our arrival. I squirm, hating that we are constantly forced to interact this way, pushed together, and made to act like young sweethearts. My face flushes with heat, and I chew on my inner lip.

“Yes, mother.” Jyeon does as he’s told, his blank tone and non-reaction, sliding my tiny hand into his and holding it loosely. His noticeable coldness in his manner, like always, since we got into our young teen years, and my heart sinks. His skin contact and warmth don’t remove the chill from the air between us, and I look away from him, gazing at my feet in downhearted depression. I cannot remember the last time he looked upon me affectionately or gave me any kind of kindness even though I’ve known him since I was born.

“Sohla, lift your chin, smile. You two look beautiful together, as always.” She chirps at us, tweaking his bow tie and smoothing his lapels before turning to me and fixing a strand of my hair.

“Yes, mother.” I do as I’m told, lifting my face to meet Jyeon’s mother’s eyes on mine. Calling her the title she prefers, given that I will be her daughter-in-law one day. I try to correct my posture and stand tall because I know she hates my slouching. She’s stern as a mother figure and doesn’t tolerate slackness.

“Where’s your brother, Jyeon?” She turns back to him, irritation in her tone evident, and then glances over us at the hallway that’s filling with guests arriving.

“Following. He’ll be here shortly.” Jyeon doesn’t move. He just awaits her approval before we get set free to join the others inside.

“That boy. You need to get him in hand. You’re older and should be showing him how to behave.”

“Yes, mother,” Jyeon answers robotically, knowing that his brother is not a handful at all and his lateness will not be his fault. He’s a sweet and caring boy who looks after me continuously, even though he’s a year younger. I miss him right now, standing here with this awkward tension.

“Okay, go inside. Remember to keep Sohla on your arm. All eyes are on our future heirs. Enjoy your birthday.” She leans in, air kisses him, and then finally lets us move past her. My body sagged slightly with relief, and I caught Jyeon giving me a side-eye.

“I hate that dress.”

It’s all he says to me. Looking down at the overly childish sequin dress his mother bought for me, and although I agree, it wounds me to the core. My heart aches, and I swallow a knot that forms in my throat, nodding his way without showing him that his words always hurt me. He leads me into the crowded room with reluctance, and our appearance causes a minor reaction from the guests.

Some rush forward to say hello, some smile and raise glasses, but the whole affair is entirely fake. I grin and bear it and play the part of the young wealthy daughter of the Kim family, knowing my place well.

“The big sixteen…. Your parents are really going all out for this one.” Bryant, Jyeon’s best friend, slides between us from behind, shoving me aside while unlatching our hands. “Don’t worry; I’ll save you both from forced romantics. Your parents like to shove it in everyone’s faces that the Parks and the Kims will be continuing their joint supremacy by marrying off their kids to keep their corporation undented.”

“Please tell me there’s an escape route.” Jyeon relaxes his stiff posture, loosening up his naturally broad shoulders, and quickly darts a glance around for his father or other watchful eyes. I find myself drawn to watching his mannerisms, which have changed from an awkward child into more of a bro type of demeanor over the past year. He’s grown taller, filled out, and his naturally handsome dark looks have lost their puppy fat. Next to a smaller and fairer Bryant, Jyeon is mysterious and sophisticated and is starting to look a lot like his father.

“Bide your time. Hang out here for an hour or so until the old folks get drunk and push off to their VIP lounge upstairs, and then we young uns can get a party started.” Bryant winks, moving to stand in front of us, and turns to face us. Eyeing me up and frowning with instant dislike.

“Sohlly Bolly …. What are you wearing? You look like a ten-year-old in that.” He disapproves as much as Jyeon does, and I glare back.

“I didn’t pick it….. Jyeon’s mom did, and I’m thirteen, not ten.” I stick my tongue out at him and slap him on the shoulder. Sassy initiated from deep inside when away from the watchful eye of the seniors, and Bryant leans in and pinches my cheek. Grinning at me before rubbing my head and messing my hair. He’s always been like an older sibling that loves to rile me at every opportunity.

“Oooh, attitude, missy. And here I thought all these lady lessons you were getting had culled the tomboy spirit and turned out something tolerable.” Bryant tries to poke me in the face, and I slap his hand away with instinctive impulses.

“Stop it.” Jyeon elbows me and nods towards the far right of the room where my parents have turned this way. My eyes follow his gaze, and I catch my father’s cold and intense stare. That I’m behaving in a manner he disapproves of.

“Yeah, Sohlly. Your dad will send you away to reform school if you don’t behave. Listen to your husband.” He jests at me and then sticks his hands in his pockets and looks at his feet when Jyeon glares coldly, right at him. Visually shutting him down and making it clear he doesn’t find that term amusing.

Jyeon hates this whole arrangement, although he’s never verbally said it to me or around me. Ever since we were told, when I turned eleven, that our future had already been mapped out and we would be officially engaged when I turn seventeen, he’s turned aloof and cold towards me. What used to be a warm and sometimes fun sibling relationship turned sour, and he avoids me now when not forced into proximity.

Our family decided when we were born that they would put us together for the sake of our company, to keep the shares and money as one, even when our parents are no longer here. I can feel his efforts to keep us apart. The lack of emotion when he’s close and the rebellious aura when he’s made to take my hand. He’s obedient to a fault though, and would never refuse what’s expected of us. Jeon will obey.

“Where’s Yoonie, anyhow? Isn’t he late to your formal soiree?” Bryant changes the subject fast and looks around for him, taking the icy hint. “It’s not like him to be AWOL when there’s cake.”

“He got side-tracked by my grandfather. He’s twelve now, and that means he’s expected to start shouldering some responsibility of being a Park son.” Jyeon moves to a passing waitress and picks up two fruit cocktails, handing one to me first and the other to Bryant before picking up his own, and we stand cradling them.

“Sixteen and on the juice….. being rich sucks. The housekeeper’s kid had a blowout sixteenth at a skateboard park where half of them had to be carried home because they smuggled out half their father’s liquor cabinet. How come we have to wear tuxedos and hang out with your family’s business associates. This isn’t a birthday party; it’s a social engagement to create valuable contacts.” Bryant has always been a bit rough and ready, not suited to high society life, and I giggle at him. He is the most annoying person I know, but he’s fun, and Jyeon acts half-human when he’s around. Despite appearances, I like Bryant.

“You’re shocked by this? I’m sure even my twenty-first will benefit my father in some way. It was never about his eldest son’s birthday.” Jyeon’s tone is bitter, and he raises his glass to his mother across the room, who has now taken her place among the glamorously dressed grown-ups who are swarming around the hall nearer the band.

I’m accustomed to this lifestyle, so it’s nothing new or intimidating, and I’m bored.

“Hey…. Did I miss anything?” Yoonah slides in beside me and immediately pushes his arm through mine, and leans his head against my shoulder despite my being a foot taller than him still. He’s slower to hit puberty than Jyeon ever was and still looks like a cute little tanned and pudgy Park boy. All big brown eyes and pouty lips, and he has a softness that melts your heart. This is the baby brother of my life, even though I’m an only child, and I adore him more than anything in the world.

“Your brain?” Bryant jests and pokes him in the forehead.

“I’ll always be smarter than you, even without a brain, Bry!” Yoonah jests right back at his brother’s best friend, used to these quips and jokes from him.

“Dad’s coming; stand up.” Jyeon slides his arm around my back, out of sight, and pushes his brother off harshly, so he flinches away. Constantly aware of how we should behave and present ourselves because our lives depend on it when it comes to our parents. He yanks me closer to his side, away from Yoonah, and then lets go of me completely. His hand falls back by his hip between us, but my stomach still tightens at the contact.

Deep down, I have always had some kind of feelings for Jyeon, which are undefined, and his brief touch when it happens makes my insides flutter. I don’t know why, as he makes no effort to have any relationship with me anymore.

“You all look very nice tonight.” Mr. Park saunters to us and pats his eldest son on the shoulder. He’s an intimidating, tall, and muscular man, who doesn’t look like he’s in his fifties, but more of a handsome thirty. Jyeon takes after him entirely, with black hair that looks nice styled up, or messy over his forehead and somehow boyish, deep darkest brown eyes, and sallow skin.

Jyeon is his mini-me. He stands like he’s the master of the universe, with a perfectly straight posture, and has an intimidating quality about him, especially when dressed in a black tux. If Jyeon ends up like him as a full-grown man, then OLO Corporation needn’t worry about having a commanding CEO at the helm to continue our family’s joint legacy. Intelligent, with killer instincts, and despite the classy and smooth appearance, Mr. Park is known as a demon in business and should never be crossed.

We all nod and smile, and I immediately fade to that nervous girl who starts fixing her appearance whenever he appears. Mr. Park is not someone who seems warm and loving when you know him well, and despite being my father’s best friend, I have never really built any kind of bond with him.

“Sohla? Sohla, darling?” My mother beckons to me from across the room, and I exhale with relief, seeing my beautiful savior looking for me to introduce to whatever women and girl are standing by her and curtsy quickly. An escape route so I can dodge Mr. Park and his suffocating energy.