Cynosure || Choi Yeonjun [ON HOLD]

✧ 10

"Enjoy your sleepover?"

Juyoung's mocking voice was the first thing to greet me the second I stepped through my front door. I shot him death glares as I pulled my shoes off, struggling a little as I tried to do it while hopping on one leg.

"Yeah, I did, thank you very much."

"Is that Hyewon?"

I was a little nervous to meet my mother, as she's the perceptive type that can tell when you've been drinking and easily decipher the truth behind your lies.

She caught me drinking once before back in ninth grade, but I started crying and promised to never do it again before she had the chance to start yelling at me.

Strangely, Juyoung drinks at almost every party, but he's never been caught. That means that either I'm a bad liar or he's an excellent one.

Either way, it's what makes it so dangerous for me to lie to her for too long.

She peeked her head from the kitchen, a dishcloth crumpled between her hands. Her head disappeared back into the kitchen after seeing me, a small smile flashed at me before doing so.

"Hey, Wonnie! Did you have fun? How are you feeling?"

"Hi, mom."

I let out a sigh of relief, assuming she was too preoccupied to notice any physical hangover symptoms in me. Either that or I did and excellent job of neatening up my appearance on the way home.

Juyoung gave me a teasing glance - or a normal one, every action from him seems in bad nature - as I walked into the living room, where I planned to flop tiredly on the couch and ask my loving brother to sneak me an aspirin from the kitchen, but my plan was interrupted by my mother calling me.

My blood ran cold, anxious that I had underestimated her ability to notice small details. 

I nervously trudged into the kitchen, dragging my feet along as a desperate attempt to buy myself more time to come up with a lie that would protect me from another ninth grade situation.

Unfortunately, my panicked state of mind prevented me from coming up with anything more than humiliating apologies, and the living room was horribly close to the kitchen. My mother looked at me with a bleak expression, meaning she was either upset or merely with a lack of excitement.

"We need to talk."

Uh oh

My heart gradually picked up its pace as I gulped a little, nervously fidgeting my fingers in front of myself as I tried desperately to look anywhere but at her eyes. I heard that made it easier to lie if you weren't making eye contact.

But I also heard that's one of the easiest ways to tell if someone's lying

"What do you want to talk about?"