The moment Jae-Min stepped off the plane and into the familiar chaos of Incheon International Airport, it felt like the world was closing in around him. Three years had passed since he’d left Korea, and as he stood there, looking at the bustling crowd, it was impossible not to feel the weight of the past pressing on his shoulders. He had changed. He had worked tirelessly to shed the man he once was. But as the doors to the terminal slid open and he was greeted by the throng of relatives and business associates, he couldn't help but wonder how much of the old him would remain in their eyes.

He barely acknowledged the polite greetings and formalities as he made his way through the airport. The whispered conversations, the sudden stares—they were all too familiar, a constant reminder of who he used to be. His father’s side of the family had always been so concerned with appearances. And that, more than anything else, had always defined their opinion of him.

They had expected him to return from the US a failure—drowned in his own self-destructive behavior, a shadow of the heir he was meant to be. But when they saw him, it was as if they were seeing a stranger. The young man who had once been soft, lazy, and arrogant was gone. In his place stood someone leaner, harder. His face had been sculpted by the relentless discipline he had imposed on himself, and his clothes fit with an ease that spoke of wealth, but not of indulgence.

No one dared to comment on the drastic change. Their pride was too delicate. But the looks, the half-hidden glances, they were enough. The shock, the disbelief—it was all there. But they didn’t ask, and he didn’t offer.

The family car was waiting for him outside, sleek and black, as if to remind him of his status, even if he no longer cared to acknowledge it. He slid into the back seat, his eyes focused straight ahead, as if the past few years had never happened.

Once they arrived at the family mansion, the uncomfortable silence lingered. His mother was the first to speak, her voice cold, as usual.

“So,” she began, looking him over with a detached expression. “You’re back. I assume you’ve finished... playing around in the US?”

Jae-Min said nothing. He didn’t correct her, didn’t explain. Why bother? They wouldn’t believe him, anyway. All they wanted was a return to the status quo. All they wanted was for him to slot back into his old role, the one they had carefully carved out for him. The lazy, arrogant heir with no real purpose.

His father, seated in the living room, glanced at him with disdain, as if he had somehow grown tired of the boy who had failed him time and time again. “I hope you enjoyed your vacation, Jae-Min. Now that you’re home, it’s time to take responsibility. The company needs you.”

Jae-Min didn’t respond immediately. He wasn’t sure what was worse—their contempt or their expectation that he would just fall back into line. He wasn’t that man anymore. But the weight of their words—their pressure to conform—was hard to ignore.

His younger brother, Ji-Ho, barely looked up from his phone, too preoccupied to care about his return. But Ji-Na, his older sister, gave him a pointed, almost smug look, as if she had been waiting for him to fail. “I hope you’re done with your... antics,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “It’s time to grow up, don’t you think?”

He could feel the sharpness in her words, like daggers aimed directly at his ego. But he didn’t rise to the bait. He didn’t care enough anymore.

Finally, his father’s voice cut through the tension. “You’ll come to the office tomorrow. I expect you to start taking this seriously, Jae-Min. We don’t have time for your games.”

“Fine,” Jae-Min replied, his voice steady but cold. “I’ll come.”

As the evening wore on, he retreated to his room—his childhood room that had felt like a prison for so many years. The familiar opulence, the endless reminders of his family’s wealth—it all seemed so empty now.

Sitting at the desk, he took a deep breath and opened his laptop. It was time to make another decision. The thought had been lingering in the back of his mind since he had first agreed to return. The thought of giving up everything he had worked for in the US—his position at Goldman Sachs, the freedom he had found, the life he had rebuilt.

But the pressure to conform, to fit the mold his family had set for him, was undeniable. His phone buzzed once more with a message from his father: “Be at the office tomorrow. Don’t keep us waiting.”

Jae-Min leaned back in his chair, the weight of the decision heavy on his chest. Slowly, methodically, he opened a new document and typed out his resignation letter to Goldman Sachs. He’d worked so hard for this position. But now, he couldn’t keep pretending to be something he wasn’t. He was no longer the man who had been content to live under the shadow of his family’s wealth.

With a heavy heart, he submitted the letter, knowing the compensation he would receive would be enough to make up for the sacrifice. But it still stung.

As the confirmation email popped up on his screen, Jae-Min leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. There was no turning back now. He had made his choice. He would face his family’s expectations. He would return to the company, to the life they had planned for him.

But he would do it on his own terms.