「Hoseok is determined to escape his fate. Namjoon just wants to be loved.」
Or, in which Hoseok dreams of being a dancer and standing on his own feet but is being tied down by a marriage contract to a man he hates.
Or so he thought.
Featuring woke yo...
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Hoseok was content.
The meal he ordered was beyond his initial expectation. The wine the Kims had brought was refined and tasted the slightest bit bitter, just how he liked it. He made small talks with Namjoon's father while the other young male discussed business with the Jungs. The desserts were arriving shortly and the night was nearly ending. He smiled softly to himself.
It was peaceful and quiet. An old piano tune played softly in the background- the type that brought back childhood reminiscences. Hoseok peered through the window. It was raining again. Heavier this time.
He didn't mind though. He liked the sound of the rain droplets crashing against the glass window. It was nearly over.
And the contract was yet to be seen.
Hoseok took a sip of his wine. He was beyond content.
However, everything came crashing down when, as soon as his blue berry cheesecake was presented to him, his own mother brought up the taboo subject again, making his appetite dissolve.
"So, the contract is nearly finalized," she announced. "Shall we get over the details?"
Hoseok set his fork down, a frown eminent on his lips.
"Mother, I would like to point out that I still oppose to this marriage," he firmly stated, eyes sharp and determination evident in them. Forget doing it afterwards. He believed he suffered enough.
The woman pursed her lips together and sighed.
"Hoseok, I told you we were over this."
The man furrowed his eyebrows together. Namjoon looked at the exchange between the two awkwardly.
"No, you were over it. I am not. I don't want to get married. Period."
"Hoseok, son, you better listen to me. I know what's best for you."
"With all due respect, mother, you know nothing of my wants."
That was no lie. Whatever Hoseok was interested in, his mother had never accepted it. It had even taken her months to get her mind around the fact that her son liked men. He remember crying every time he saw his mother's evident scowl whenever he refused the numerous dates she set up with rich girls, while she knew fully well that he was gay. Even his hobbies were taken for mere pass-time, and his passions discarded as a mediocre phase.
