The Weight of Expectations

Jimin just looked down, unable to think of what to say or how to respond.

Sensing the tension, Jimin's mom glanced at him, understanding his feelings. She stepped forward. "We already talked about this last night," she said, her frustration showing in her voice.

Jimin's dad nodded sharply. "Yes, we did."

"Honey," his mom repeated, her voice trembling with frustration as she clenched her fists, trying to stay calm.

Jimin's dad, now on edge, responded, "You don't think our son will regret this? Why can't you think clearly?"

Both of them looked upset, and Jimin could feel the tension rising like a thick fog in the room. He thought about the trip, the fun they'd have. But then he thought about the arguments, his father's voice, the weight of expectations pressing down on him. Could he really make both sides happy?

Forget about the trip. Maybe giving this up will make things easier. If it stops Dad from being upset and Mom from arguing, it's worth it... right?

Taking a deep breath, Jimin spoke up, his voice louder than expected, "I get it now. I was just confused before, but everything's clear. I'll spend my summer vacation focusing on my academics."

Jimin's dad, now calmer, turned to his wife. "See? Our son understands what's best for him. Thanks, Jimin, for seeing my good intentions."

Jimin just nodded silently and left the dining room.

There was a look of satisfaction on his father's face, even a small smile. But his mom sighed deeply, clearly upset.

Back in his room, Jimin picked up his phone and messaged Inna: "I'm sorry. I'm not going on the trip with you."

On the other side, Inna quickly replied: "What happened? Why aren't you coming?"

Before Jimin could even put his phone down, her next message popped up: "Tell me what happened?" Then another: "Why suddenly you can't go?"

Jimin stared at the screen, sadness gripping his chest. His phone buzzed again: "Did something happen to you or your family? Are you okay?"

Buzz. Another message. Buzz. Another. Each one heavier than the last. Jimin's chest tightened. He placed the phone on the bed and lay down, letting the messages pile up. Every buzz was like a reminder of his choice. The weight on his chest grew.

After some time, the worried messages turned into something else.

Buzz. "Yay! Why can't you come?"

Buzz. "Do I joke to you?"

Buzz. "What are you thinking? You planned it first, right? First, you say yes, and then you're gonna turn me down?"

Jimin didn't know how to respond. He typed: "I'm not in the mood."