Chapter 37

August 04

I woke up around 7 am to the soft hum of sunlight peeking through my curtains. Stretching, I sat up and glanced at the clock. Another day, another set of plans. After going through my usual morning routine of brushing my teeth, a long shower, and tidying up my hair, I reached for a comfortable outfit but then paused. 

A thought flashed through my mind, my grandparents' house. This wasn't just a casual visit. Appearances mattered, especially when dealing with Grandma and Grandpa. So, instead of my usual relaxed choices, I reached for something classy: a beige high-neck dress with layered detailing from Gianfranco Ferré's Ready-to-Wear Spring/Summer collection. The texture was light, airy, and perfect for the occasion, exuding elegance without being over the top. I paired it with matching heels, a chic handbag, and accessories, all from the same designer line. After a final glance in the mirror, I went downstairs to join the others for breakfast. 

The dining room smelled of fresh croissants and brewed coffee, a calming yet disappointing start to what I anticipated would be a long day. Ivan sat at the table, his eyes briefly flicking to me and going back to his breakfast. After finishing breakfast in relative silence, the two of us got into his car and headed to my grandparents' house. 

Our grandparents' home wasn't just a house; it was another estate. Situated in one of Boston's wealthiest neighborhoods, it exuded old-world charm with sprawling gardens, a marble fountain at the entrance, and French-style architecture. By the time we arrived, they had already finished breakfast. We entered the grand living room, where Grandma and Grandpa sat, radiating their usual aura of authority. 

After exchanging pleasantries and wishing them a good morning, I was barely seated when Grandpa gestured for me to stay put. "Sit down, Yeim. We have matters to discuss," he said, his voice firm. 

What followed wasn't a conversation; it was more of a reading. My parents and Ivan sat quietly to the side, leaving me alone to navigate the storm. Grandma, never composed but no less intimidating, reminded me of the promises I had made years ago. My heart sank as I acknowledged, acknowledging the commitment. 

My life has always been divided into two distinct phases. The first phase, until I turned 25, belonged to my family to their guidance, decisions, and plans for my future. The second phase would begin when I turned 25, when I would have the freedom to make my own choices. When I was seven, after the accident at SM Entertainment, Grandma had given me a choice: continue pursuing my dreams as a trainee but submit to their arrangements after 25, or abandon those dreams and gain full independence once I reached adulthood. At the time, the decision had seemed clear; I chose my dreams. 

Now, at 18, those decisions loomed closer. Grandma broke her silence, addressing my recent choices with an edge of disapproval. "Since you've chosen not to study Business Management, we are giving you two options. Either you come back home, and we personally train you to manage the family businesses, or your freedom until 25 will be reduced to 18." 

Her words were like a slap in the face. I wanted to stand up and scream, to tell her exactly how I felt, but I had learned long ago that voicing your thoughts wasn't always the best course of action. Instead, I stayed calm and negotiated. "I'll attend business lectures, participate in gatherings and events, and learn whatever you need me to learn. But the freedom until 25 remains unchanged." 

Grandpa considered my words before nodding slightly. "Very well. You have until 22. After that, no more compromised. When you turn 22, you can take your time slowly to retire." 

It wasn't the outcome I wanted, but it was better than being dragged home and having my dreams ripped away entirely and suddenly. 

When we finally left, I felt drained. My mother patted my shoulder, her soft smile a rare source of comfort. "Don't dwell on it too much, sweetheart. You've handled it well." 

Dad, ever the voice of reason, added, "Take some time for yourself today. Ivan, why don't you take her somewhere to clear her head?" 

Ivan nodded, and with a reassuring glance in my direction, we got into the car again. "Where to?" he asked. 

"Anywhere but here," I muttered, slumping back into the seat. 

We ended up at the New England Aquarium, a wish list spot of mine. The moment we stepped inside, the cool, tranquil atmosphere began to soothe my frayed nerves. We wandered through the exhibits, watching the sea turtles glide gracefully in their tanks and the playful seals darting through the water. Ivan, ever observant, let me set the pace, occasionally pointing out interesting facts about marine life or cracking a quiet joke to make me laugh. 

By the time we left, I felt lighter, as though the weight of the morning's discussion had been momentarily lifted. 

Back home, Ivan insisted on cooking lunch for me himself. He made a simple yet delicious meal, pan-seared salmon with roasted vegetables and a light salad. I teased him about his sudden culinary skills, and he responded with a mock bow. He was very good at culinary skills all the time, just like Dad.

After lunch, I sent Xingyi and the others away, leaving only Isuki and Hyungwoo behind. It was time to deal with the mountain of gifts I'd received. 

I spent hours unpacking and organizing everything. From handmade trinkets to extravagant luxury items, each gift reflected the thought and effort people had put into celebrating my birthday. One particular gift caught my attention: a blank song script with an accompanying sheet of music. Beneath it was a note from Ariana Grande, inviting me to collaborate on a new project. My heart skipped a beat. This was more than just a gift; it was an opportunity. 

Excited, I immediately handed it to Hyungwoo to follow up. 

The day passed in a blur of unpacking and tidying. By the time dinner rolled around, I felt utterly drained, my energy completely spent. Just as I sat down to eat, Isuki entered with a dozen people carrying large boxes. 

"These are the fan letters and gifts," he explained. 

I laughed at the irony. "I was just thinking I'd finally gotten a break, and here comes another pile." 

I instructed them to open the boxes in the designated gift room and thoroughly inspect everything for anything suspicious. By "suspicious," I meant items like hidden cameras or recording devices, an unfortunate reality of fame. Thankfully, Isuki understood and assured me it would be handled. 

After dinner, I visited the gift room. As expected, there were a few questionable items, which Isuki and his team were already addressing. Once everything was checked and restored to its original state, I took a photo with the gifts and posted it on Instagram, thanking my fans. Handling our own Instagram account was something all members took pride in; it allowed us to connect directly with those who supported us.

Going back to my room, I started dividing the letters and read all the letters that didn't have the sender's address, and I let Isuki print out the photocopies of the reply letter that I wrote, and went back to read the remaining letters.

August 5

I must have fallen asleep reading fan letters because when I woke up, I was still in bed, surrounded by stacks of unopened envelopes. After my morning routine, I slipped into a soft Elitéra cardigan and a gathered skirt, braiding my hair loosely for a casual look. 

The day was spent reading and replying to letters. Each response was personal, and I added a handwritten "Thank you, (sender's name)" on the printed copies by Isuki. It was exhausting but rewarding, and by the time I was done, it was already late afternoon. 

Feeling restless, I picked up my phone and called Wyatt. 

"My boyfriend, are you free?" I teased. 

"For my princess? Always," he replied cheekily. 

"Come pick me up?" 

"Ten minutes. Dress up and wait for me, princess," he said, making me roll my eyes. 

I changed into a biker-inspired outfit: a cropped leather jacket, high-waisted jeans, a black crop top, ankle boots, and matching accessories. The look was bold but perfect for the adventure I had in mind. 

And with that, I waited by the door, eager for whatever mischief Wyatt had planned.

I am afraid when riding with Wyatt as he speeds up a lot, and it always gives me a near heart attack, but it makes me forget about everything and relax my mind. I am grateful that Wyatt came to study in Boston from San Francisco.

Soon, I was with Wyatt, his riding the motorbike at full speed through the cool night air was an exhilarating mix of freedom and chaos. The city lights blurred into streaks of gold and white as the wind rushed past, tugging at my hair and filling my lungs with a refreshing chill. Clinging to Wyatt's back, I could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing, a grounding contrast to the wild pace of the bike. It was a strange comfort, being with someone who knew me better than anyone, even if this was all pretended. The road ahead seemed endless, a moment suspended between thrill and nostalgia, where nothing else mattered but the speed, the stars above, and the unspoken bond we shared.