The 'Grand Velvet' was the city's most opulent restaurant,
shimmering with crystal chandeliers and the soft,
haunting melody of a live piano.
The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne and the hushed whispers of elite business deals.
At every table, powerful people were shaping the future of industries, but in a secluded corner, Suho sat in a world of his own—a world made of crushing silence.
Suho's head rested heavily on the table.
He had worn his favorite silk shirt today, a small, desperate hope flickering in his chest that perhaps, just for once, someone would truly look at him.
Condensation droplets raced down his water glass, mirroring the way his patience was slowly melting away.
Every time the heavy oak doors of the restaurant creaked open, his heart skipped a beat, only to sink again when a stranger walked through.
Then, a sound cut through the ambient noise—sharp, rhythmic, and commanding.
'Click... Clack... Click...'
The sound of high heels striking the marble floor wasn't just a walk; it was a statement.
Suho's breath hitched.
He knew that sound better than his own heartbeat.
It was the stride of a CEO, not a mother.
A woman of striking elegance and icy beauty came to a halt beside his table.
Her face was a mask of professional perfection, her eyes reflecting the glow of her smartphone rather than the son standing before her.
She didn't say a word.
Instead, her long, manicured fingers tapped the table—'tap-tap-tap'—as if she were waking up an employee who had fallen asleep on the job.
Suho slowly lifted his head, a fragile, hollow smile touching his lips.
"You... you're here," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
His mother, the CEO of one of the city's largest conglomerates, pulled out a chair and sat down without a word of greeting.
Her every movement radiated a sense of hurried importance.
She didn't look into Suho's eyes; her gaze remained fixed on the relentless stream of notifications on her phone.
"What can I order for you, Mom?"
Suho asked, trying to inject some warmth into the cold space between them.
"The seafood here is famous; I thought you might like it."
Without looking up from her screen, she replied in a flat, clinical tone, "I'm not eating, Suho.
I don't have the time.
Order whatever you want for yourself."
Suho's hand, which had been reaching for the menu, froze mid-air.
He had expected this answer—he had heard it for years—yet it still stung like a fresh wound.
He swallowed hard, trying to find the courage to bridge the gap.
He just wanted one moment where her phone was face down.
He wanted her to ask,
"Suho, how are you?
Are you eating well? Are you happy?"
"Mom, actually... I wanted to talk to you.
About school and..."
Suho had barely started the sentence when the silence was shattered by a sharp, piercing ringtone.
His mother answered instantly.
Her face transformed, lighting up with a professional intensity she never reserved for him.
"Yes, Mr. Kapoor?
The merger is ready?
Great. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
She hung up and stood up immediately, smoothing out her blazer.
Suho looked up at her, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"Mom? You just got here..."
"Eat, Suho.
I have to go; this is a meeting I cannot afford to miss.
Leave the cash on the table or use the card," she said, grabbing her designer bag.
Without a single backward glance, she turned and walked away, the 'click-clack' of her heels echoing like a countdown that had finally run out.
Suho sat there, frozen.
Two empty plates sat before him, but the only thing filling the table was an overwhelming sense of abandonment.
In the middle of the crowded, wealthy restaurant, his silent scream went unheard.
He realized that while his mother's company was growing larger by the day, the space she held for him in her heart was becoming smaller and smaller.
He slowly closed the menu.
He wasn't hungry anymore.
He was just looking for a question that was never asked.