Internal Strife (2)
After finishing the afternoon scrim, Seona bolted from the practice room like she was fleeing and collapsed onto her bed in her dorm room.
Her head throbbed painfully.
Nearly two months had passed since the workshop, but Seona's mind was still trapped in that night on the second day.
- Dad was a production worker at SA Electronics. But he was already suffering from overwork, and when he went in again, there was a press accident...
Ha-young's words echoed relentlessly in her head.
According to what Ha-young had said next, her father's company had pinned the blame on the deceased himself, leaving Ha-young's family without proper compensation.
From what she'd shared at the workshop, that's what plunged them into poverty—Ha-young's mom ended up working at a mart, they became a basic livelihood assistance family, and Ha-young lived in a crumbling shanty house in a hillside slum, never even tasting birthday cake.
- You don't wanna end up like those gutter-life folks in the slums, right?
Her father's scolding words during vacation.
Did that mean Dad saw families like Ha-young's as gutter trash? Without even knowing why their lives had fallen apart? No—worse, he'd pinned the blame on them to cover his own mess?
Seona thought back to her own birthdays.
As a kid, they'd hire French chefs to bake cakes right at home. The top-tier team, with experience in five-star hotel kitchens, produced three-tiered masterpieces so luxurious they were a sight to behold.
And it wasn't just the cakes. Chocolate fountains for endless fondue, exorbitantly priced fresh mangosteens and cashews flown straight from overseas, ultra-premium truffles that were rare even in Italy and Switzerland, chef-baked breads, turkey... the table had everything. Even though she couldn't eat it all as a child, her birthdays were always like that.
They'd vacation abroad three or four times a year, heading to Dad's villas at famous resorts for family trips away from the crowds.
These days, she rebelled against his tightening control and guidance, skipping the luxuries, but it had been that way in her childhood.
Now, all of it—the birthdays she'd taken for granted, the trips—felt stolen from Ha-young.
If they weren't close, the guilt might have been lighter, but they were too close for that, and Seona's heart wasn't shameless enough.
Since the workshop, seeing Ha-young made her jumpy, wracked with apologies, guilt, and fear of discovery. Her focus in games crumbled.
Things didn't improve, so Yuseong's scoldings increased, and her skills plummeted in inverse proportion.
And the most agonizing part—
- Seona, you okay? You got chewed out bad, huh?
- Practice hard again, and we'll all pull through together. It'll get better for sure. It's you, after all!
- Hiiing, why so down?
- Wanna hit up Udon for a reversal? You bought last time, my treat!
- Don't push yourself, got it?
The worse Seona got, the kinder Ha-young became, caring for her more tenderly.
Because they were close, Ha-young worried and tried everything to help her regain form. That kindness crushed Seona further.
She'd resolved to confess countless times, but facing Ha-young's concerned gaze, the words died in her throat.
How could she admit that her family had ruined such a pretty, kind, gentle friend's life, crushing them while she feasted atop the ruins?
"Haa... Guess I should hit the convenience store."
By now, lying here, Ha-young and the others were probably eating at the dorm cafeteria or out somewhere.
Dreading a run-in, Seona decided to grab a quick lunch box from the store. She threw on some clothes.
Stepping outside, a ridiculously long limousine was parked right by the road. And outside it, someone smoking a cigarette.
A familiar face.
"D-Dr... Driver uncle?"
The nameless driver who chauffeured her father's limo. He bowed his head in greeting.
"Oh, little miss! Long time no see. You look paler than before. Eating properly?"
"N-No, that's not— Why are you here? Is Dad...?"
"Ah, yes. The chairman went inside a bit ago."
"Why—why is Dad here?!"
The driver pointed with his free hand at a life-sized standee of Seona. From that September day the team had called her for a shoot.
"He saw that standee passing by. Speaking of, when did you join a big agency like this? Chairman seemed clueless."
"He... saw that... and went inside...?"
"Yeah, probably checking on you. Huh? Where you going?"
Seona didn't even reply, sprinting back inside.
She was busted.
Her control-freak dad already meddled whenever he could, dictating her path. She'd kept it secret from everyone but Mom and the household staff before going pro.
Of all things, that damn standee.
Grinding her teeth, Seona burst into the practice room. At the entrance, five pairs of men's shoes. All dress shoes and loafers. Worst-case scenario confirmed.
"Can't accept it? No compensation, can't break the contract? Can't even explain yourself?"
'Conf... Conference room!'
Her father's hated voice leaked from the conference room.
But Yuseong stressed she'd signed legally, entry approved—contract unbreakable.
Her father scoffed, explaining why The Shine had no choice but to void it. Seona clenched her fists, trembling at the dirty tactic.
Did he ruin Ha-young's family that way too? Bending everything to his will?
But... no choice.
Stubbornly insisting on pro? Useless. Yuseong, the team, even company folks could suffer big time. Maybe end up like Ha-young's family. And Ha-young twice over...
She couldn't bear that. Biting her lip till it bled, Seona folded her untested wings, submitting to Dad.
Opening this door to declare quitting pro would end his rampage.
Hand on the knob—
"Ten billion won't cut it."
Yuseong's words froze her hand.
He demanded 500 billion.
"You know how much she grits through my scoldings and harsh words? How hard she practices? You think trampling her dream for a measly ten billion? I can't. If you're crushing her future, pay 500 billion first."
Tears welled in Seona's eyes.
Coach cared this much. Facing Dad for her, family or not. And I...
Her inner wings unfurled.
"My daughter's dream is Ivy League, master's in business, leading SA Group."
Unable to hold back, Seona wiped her tears on her sleeve and flung the door open.
"That's your dream, Dad!"
###
"Seona? You said you were resting in your room—"
"Kim Seona! Perfect timing. Hiding from Dad for this clown show? Contract date matches that backpacking trip lie! Brazen lies for this trash circus!"
"Trash circus? That's how you see what I want so bad? Sorry, Dad—your daughter's a lowly clown."
"Kim Seona!!!"
"It's all because of you!!!"
Kim Seona screamed it like a banshee, throat tearing.
"English kindergartens, tutors on tutors from childhood. Forced transfers from elementary 'cause friends weren't 'our level'—lost all friends, stuck with rich snobs. Ever asked my dreams?
Know what I like? What I'm good at? Mom asked. Told her pro gamer—she cheered. Knew you'd flip, so hid from you!
But what? Won't void contract? Cut all agency talents, blacklist? Pressure to erase my contract yourself?
That's how you run the company? Smash anything not your way, puppet everyone—even your kid?"
"Kim Seona. Last time: be grateful. I shoulder world's hardships, evils—for family, for you—"
"Your fault my friend's dad died!!!"
Seona's outburst silenced the room. Kim Seon-woo faltered first.
"...What?"
Sensing gravity, Choi the secretary whispered to Manager Kim Ki-hyeon, Agent Han Sang-cheol, and me.
"Family matters incoming—sorry, could you step out? And keep this quiet for now."
No reason to stay in the suffocating room, plus overhearing taboo stuff—Ki-hyeon and Han nodded. But not me.
"I already know the story. Nothing new hearing more. She's my player, I'm staff—I'm staying."
"But..."
"You know I know everything. Kicking me out's pointless. Player's future on line—coach stays."
Secretary grumbled but conceded. The other two left.
Fewer people, Seona raged louder.
"Closest friend here—her dad died years back. Know why? Overworked at our SA Electronics, called in again—press accident! Looked it up: ten years ago?
Yeah, age eight—crowd at door, ringing bell nonstop. Asked Mom, she said company folks reporting to Dad. Now realize: reporters?
Born rich 'cause grateful? Thanks. Kill folks, dodge payouts by blaming victims—nice rich house."
"Kim Seona!!!"
"Told me obey or end up slum gutter? My friend? Lives in slums. Dad's company killed her dad, you pinned blame—no compensation."
"......"
"Built house on tears and corpses—'be happy'? Your way to wealth, happiness? Never imagined our family like that. Disgusting—can't live that way.
Won't quit pro. Lifelong dream—succeed here, be the best. Hate being your puppet. No contract break. Tell Mom too. Your words mean nothing. Won't live like you."
Fire blazed in Kim Seon-woo's eyes.
He growled low.
"Kim Seona. Last as father: void contract, obey. Or no home."
"Oh yeah? To the end your way?"
Seona's face venomous, she yanked off her luxury watch, bracelets—hurled to floor.
"What the hell."
"No home if no void? Fine—won't go. Live here, eat, sleep. Not your property. My life, my call."
"Kim Seona! Don't get cocky—obey!"
"No! What, defy you—kill me like friend's dad, our team? Do it! Kill me!"
Seona thrust her neck at him, demonic fury.
Couldn't strike his daughter—Kim Seon-woo slammed desk, shot up.
They glared silently long. He spoke first.
"Kim Seona. Father's final word: two weeks. Done slumming? Void, come home. Understood. Secretary Choi, let's go."
"Yes, Chairman."
Alone with Seona now.
She panted furious, then exhausted or relieved with me—her ally—sobbed quietly.
"Hic... Sniff... Waaah..."
I patted her back wordlessly. She stifled sobs, tears dripping.
"Wondered why form tanked— this. Still acted fine?"
"Sniff... Sorry. Couldn't muster courage..."
"...Ha-young know?"
"No."
"Secretary said hush, but manager and agent saw—rumors spread. Tell her yourself first. Hearing from others? How's she feel?"
"Sniff... Yeah. Meant to post-workshop... Tell her later."
"Want company?"
"No. I'll... handle alone."
Seona wiped tears, sniffed.
I pondered untangling this knot. Season nearing—why this now.
Tears subsided, she rubbed eyes.
"Thanks."
"For what."
"Heard you defend me outside. Valuing my dream—made me happy."
"Told you: I trust you all. This too... sort with Ha-young. Go rest."
"Yeah."
My misjudgment.
Seona opened door first—screamed bloody murder.
"Mommy!!!"
"Whoa, why yell—"
I peeked—froze, speechless.
Doorway: arms crossed, dead-eyed Ha-young glaring at Seona. Behind, Yuna, Eunjae, Sera apocalypse-faced, clueless.
"Wha... How... H-Ha-young—"
Seona stammered. Ha-young cut her.
Her voice: coldest I'd heard, chilling.
"Had your fill of lowly slum games, Miss Kim Seona?"