"He's gay," I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Maria's hands froze mid-air, her coffee mug slipping through her fingers. It crashed to the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces. Hot coffee splashed across her thighs but she didn't flinch. Her eyes were wide and locked on me like she hadn't heard right.
"Holy shit," Zane said, letting out a soft whistle, low and dry, his smirk growing. "Now that's what you don't see every day. Peak soap opera stuff. Season one, episode one", he said, folding his arms.
Maria cursed under her breath, blotting hot coffee off her thighs with a napkin, but didn't say anything. Aria blinked. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she found her voice.
"Wait, wait—what?"
I didn't blame them.
I couldn't blame them.
I couldn't say anything.
Instead, I just stared at the cracked mug on the floor like it held answers.
My head was still a foggy maze. I wasn't crying. I wasn't screaming. But I felt this dizziness in my head, slow and heavy, like my world was caving in.
He told me.
And I believed him.
And yet somehow, I didn't know what to do with the truth.
"So exactly why did he marry you?" Maria asked, snapping herself out of the daze.
I shrugged, then tilted my head back and chugged the rest of my cold coffee like it was the elixir of survival. "Ahhh," I exhaled, loud enough for a soda commercial.
To anyone watching, I probably looked like I'd finally cracked.
But I hadn't.
I was perfectly sane.
Too sane, maybe.
And sanity in this world? That's the real illness.
"I think you've finally lost it," Zane muttered, trying to rub salt into a wound that didn't exist.
Aria slammed her smoothie cup on the table with a sharp thud that made everyone flinch. "Give us the details. From the beginning."
Maria and Zane straightened up, suddenly alert. I sighed. But I had no better way to explain how my very average life did a full somersault and landed face-first into chaos—so I started where it all began.
One week ago…
It was my monthly pilgrimage to the parental kingdom. A sacred tradition filled with love, judgment, and unsolicited advice.
"Mummy, Daddy, I'm home!" I called, slipping off my sneakers at the entrance and stepping into the house in my favorite socks—black with tiny pink hearts. (Don't judge. They're lucky.)
Then I noticed — the entrance was full. Shoes everywhere. At first, I thought my parents had upgraded their footwear game—until I saw the culprits.
In the living room were Amber and Roy—my parents' best friends—their daughter Kristy, my older brother Dante and his girlfriend Irene. And—because fate hates me—Kael. Kristy's brother. My frenemy. My sometimes rival. My full-time irritation.
Basically, the Avengers of Judgment Day.
And me? I waltzed in like the final boss of cringe. Pigtails adorned with pastel hairpins. An Abyss t-shirt that screamed "I make questionable fashion choices with confidence!" A white mini skirt. My official Nova fandom crossbody bag. And the prized possession: the Abyss lightstick—technically their lightstick, not mine, but spiritually? It belongs to my soul. I did take it from Infinity (a member). Plus now I didn't have to waste money getting a new one.
I looked like a teen who got lost in time and ended up in a 24-year-old body.
"She looks like a child trapped in a grown woman's body, Amber. What am I supposed to do with this?" my mother lamented, throwing her hands up like she was filing a divine complaint.
Okay, rude.
That wasn't even what I was going for! I wasn't trying to be cute—I was trying to look like a dedicated, ready-to-serve staff member. The kind that gets to breathe the same air as Abyss. The kind that holds clipboards and whispers important things like, "You're on in five."
But none of that mattered. It was all fantasy.
Dante and Irene started snickering. Kael didn't even look up, pretending I didn't exist. Classic Kael.
"I told her to find a husband in college," my mother continued, now warming up. "Not a certificate and a crush on glittering eyeliner-wearing strangers who don't know she exists!"
I knelt on the carpet like a guilty anime character. Not because I agreed, but because the look in my mother's eyes said, "Repent."
"She's anxious," my dad added, patting her shoulder. "Michelle turns 25 in six months. The deadline is closing in fast."
Ah yes. The law. The big, shiny reason everyone's losing their minds.
In our lovely little world, anyone unmarried by 25 gets handed over to the government's Marriage Allocation Bureau, AKA, "Hello, arranged marriage with a total stranger and state surveillance for life."
Delightful, really.
"She's not the only one I'm worried about," Amber jumped in. "Kael's birthday is in three days (October 19th), and the government already sent a reminder. I was so furious, I booked his flight myself."
"Actually, she's been so paranoid," Roy chimed in, "we pre-booked a wedding venue. Cake, tuxedo, the works. Just in case."
What. The. Actual. Hell. It's year 2045 for God Sake.
I stared at them like they were aliens. Why were they like this? Why were all the adults in my life powered by the same broken logic circuit? They made sense and didn't at the same time.
"Good evening," I finally mumbled, with the tiniest smile and the most awkward laugh.
Dante didn't even try to hide his amusement.
"Wait—what about Dante?" I said, grasping at straws. "His birthday's today. He's 26! Shouldn't you all be panicking about him?"
My mother beamed, baring all 32 teeth. "Oh no, darling. He got married yesterday, as soon as he and Irene landed in South Korea."
"WHAT?"
I am new to this news. So Irene is now his wife. I'm happy, just in a surprise way.
"Oh, he filed for an extension after that burn accident two years ago. He had extra time," my dad added calmly.
Wow. So the system is flexible for burn victims but not boy band enthusiasts? Noted.
For a brief second, I seriously considered tripping down the stairs and praying for a temporary spinal injury. Maybe I could squeeze out a six-month buffer.
Then it happened.
My mother turned her gaze from me… to Kael.
Back to me.
Then Kael again.
That look? That calculating, mischievous, terrifying mom-look?
Something wicked was about to be said.
"Amber," she said sweetly, "why don't Kael and Michelle get married? That way, we don't have to worry about either of them."
I actually felt my soul leave my body for a moment.
"WHAT? AHHHH!" Kael and I screamed at the same time. It was the only time in history we were perfectly in sync.
"That's a brilliant idea," Amber said, practically glowing. The dads started discussing logistics like this was a lunch order, not our futures.
Kael was stammering, trying to protest. "No, no—guys, this is crazy. Stop playing with me. You can't just—hey, listen!"
I stood frozen, mouth open, brain buffering.
"I've decided," my mom declared. "Michelle. Kael. You're getting married in two days" smiling from ear to ear signaling that she won't take "N.O." for an answer.
And just like that, my peaceful monthly visit became the beginning of my descent into matrimonial madness.