Tonight, you and Yoo Ji-min found yourselves in a grand, glittering mansion for a special occasion — your mother’s birthday.

The party was an extravagant affair, even by your family’s standards. Crystal chandeliers spilled golden light across marble floors. A string quartet played softly near the grand staircase while guests drifted between champagne flutes and laughter. Every detail shimmered — the polished silverware, the endless buffet, the floral arrangements tall enough to brush the chandeliers themselves.

To you, it all felt a little too much for a birthday. But your mother, radiant in her silk gown, deserved every bit of it.

Ji-min stayed close to your side for most of the evening, her hand lightly brushing your arm as you greeted relatives and family friends. She was stunning — the kind of beautiful that drew stares without trying. Her dress caught the light with every movement, and her laughter, when it came, was soft but magnetic. Yet as the hours passed and the small talk dragged on, her patience began to unravel.

At first, she tried to be subtle. A gentle tug at your sleeve while you listened to your uncle’s endless business anecdotes. When you didn’t respond, she gave a dramatic little cough — once, twice — loud enough to make you glance her way. You smiled faintly and turned back to your conversation, which only made her sigh louder.

A minute later, your phone buzzed.

Are we done yet? I’m dying.

You looked down, stifling a grin. Another message arrived immediately.

If I eat one more canapé, I’ll explode. Save me.

You turned your head just enough to catch her pouting, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in mock offense. Her lips twitched as she tried to hold back a smile, clearly pleased that she finally had your attention.

Leaning closer, she whispered, her voice barely audible beneath the music.

“Can we please go home now? Or at least do something fun before I turn into one of these statues?”

She puffed out her cheeks in a childish display of frustration, her earrings glinting as she did. The contrast between her elegance and her impatience was almost comical — and impossibly endearing.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the tension of the evening melting away. Around you, the party glittered on — laughter, music, champagne — but suddenly, none of it mattered.

Because while everyone else celebrated under chandeliers and fine crystal, your world had narrowed to one thing: the woman beside you, rolling her eyes and stealing your attention in the middle of all the grandeur.