Work Text:
Celine never saw the point of social media.
Hashtags, reels, stories—it all sounded like a circus she’d rather leave to the younger generation. That was what employees were for. She had people who managed the company accounts, people who knew the slang, people who knew how to post without embarrassing themselves.
But then Rumi and the others cornered her.
“Everyone already thinks you’re mysterious,” Zoey argued.
“You’d be iconic,” Mira added.
“You’re already verified,” Rumi said flatly. “So no one can fake being you. Just… post something.”
Celine resisted, but their pleading eyes wore her down. She made an account, stared at the empty feed, and wondered what on earth she was supposed to share.
Her first attempt was harmless: a photo of the Seoul skyline from her office, captioned, Another day at the office.
Within minutes, the likes piled in. Comments swarmed: CEO vibes! Mother! Adopt me please!
It was… strangely satisfying.
The second post wasn’t even hers. Rumi had snapped a selfie of them smiling together. On a whim, Celine uploaded it. The warmth she felt at seeing it live, people responding with so cute! and look at her soft smile! It surprised her. Maybe this wasn’t so bad.
Then Zoey introduced her to Throwback Thursday.
“You post old pics! Like this.” Zoey proudly showed a skateboard-scraped child version of herself. Mira had uploaded a ballet recital shot. Rumi posted a grainy picture of tiny Rumi clutching a plastic microphone.
Celine didn’t laugh. She thought.
That night, she pulled out an old box she hadn’t touched in years. Inside lay photographs—her years as a Sunlight Sister, concerts, candid shots, memories she’d buried to keep moving forward. And Mi-yeong. Always Mi-yeong.
Her throat tightened as she thumbed through the Polaroids. Most of them no one had ever seen—not even Rumi. Smiling snapshots, stolen moments. Evidence of a love they’d had to keep secret.
One picture stopped her.
A messy Polaroid selfie. She and Mi-yeong, tangled in sheets, laughing. Her head resting against Mi-yeong’s shoulder, both of them glowing with happiness. One of their better days.
Before she could overthink it, Celine uploaded it.
No caption—just a heart emoji and #ThrowbackThursday.
The internet exploded.
Wait, IS THIS RUMI’S MOM??
Confirmed??
This is bed selfie energy, I’m deceased.
So Celine IS Rumi’s dad?!
Her phone buzzed violently. FaceTime. Rumi.
Celine calmly sipped her tea and answered.
Her adopted daughter’s face filled the screen, flushed crimson. Behind her, Zoey was audibly rambling, and Mira was cackling.
“CELINE—what is that you posted? With Mom?” Rumi demanded.
Celine tilted her head. “A picture of me and your mother in bed together. What else would it be?”
Rumi sputtered, face going redder by the second. “Were you two—together, like… as a couple?”
Mira’s voice cut in off-screen: “Isn’t that obvious?”
Celine chuckled softly. “Yes, Rumi. Your mother and I loved each other very much. We kept it a secret because, at the time, it wasn’t… appropriate. It caused us both a lot of stress. That picture was from one of our happier times.”
There was a pause. Rumi bit her lip, overwhelmed.
And then Zoey, ever unfiltered, yelled from the background: “So they were totally banging!”
Rumi’s face went nuclear red. She yelped, hung up, and left Celine staring at her own reflection in the darkened phone screen.
For the first time in years, she laughed until her eyes watered.