your dad always imagined you’d date someone predictable—a straight-a student, clean-cut, polite, and maybe aspiring to be a doctor or lawyer. seungmin was the exact opposite. he was a little too loud, a little too bold, and a lot too confident for your dad’s taste. he wore ripped jeans, dyed his hair, and had tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves. worst of all? he was a musician. “he’s trouble,” your dad said the first time he met seungmin, crossing his arms and giving him a hard glare.

but you knew the truth. behind seungmin’s cocky grin and playful jokes was a heart of gold. he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, and he always stood up for what he believed in, including you. when he picked you up for dates, he’d honk his motorbike horn obnoxiously loud just to annoy your dad, then wink at you as you climbed on behind him. “your dad’s gonna kill me one day,” he’d laugh, but his grip on your hand was steady, like he’d never let go.

the disapproval didn’t stop seungmin. he leaned into it, much to your dad’s frustration. he’d charm your mom with compliments and jokes while your dad grumbled in the background. once, when your dad pointed out seungmin’s tattoos as proof of his “bad influence,” seungmin calmly rolled up his sleeve and explained that one was for his late grandmother. “she taught me to be fearless,” he said, and even your dad couldn’t argue with that.

things finally came to a head one night when your dad confronted you after dinner. “why him? why someone so reckless?” he demanded, his voice sharp. you took a deep breath and said, “because he’s real. he doesn’t pretend to be someone he’s not, and he’s not afraid to love me exactly as i am.” when seungmin showed up outside with flowers—again—your dad reluctantly opened the door. for the first time, he didn’t scowl. “just… take care of her,” he muttered, and seungmin’s grin was genuine. “always,” he promised, pulling you close as your dad watched.