another day

     hunji stayed down near the kids quietly. they all seemed so happy just drawing, sharing crayons, and exchanging compliments. he knew better than to try and ruin the excitement of a bunch of toddlers. if he upset even one child, it would cause chaos, so he became an observer instead of a participant.      he stood on his feet, but crouched as far as he could and hugged his knees to his chest. with a little, content smile, he watched their little hands run about the papers in blinding colors. as he watched, his smile grew and grew and grew. just watching them be themselves, make something of their own, brightened his face to a gummy smile.      hunji remembered aaron’s presence and looked up at him. his eyes widened.      me? draw? are you serious? aaron, we are on TV right now?! oh my god this is horrible i can’t do this-      as expected, half the children eagerly agreed to a contest while the other half just wanted to make their own drawings.      “ah- i, uh,” hunji looked around at the staff, the cameras, panicked. he could hear his heart vibrate in his ears, “i-i don’t, let’s just let them draw! see-see, heh. . . uh,” hunji stood up and swallowed. he went to aaron to whisper.      “can you please not embarrass me in front of these kids, older brother? i really can’t draw and there’s cameras everywhere.” he pulled back from aaron’s ear, just speaking to the older boy directly. “let’s make a different kind of game? i don’t,” back to whispering, “please don’t make me compete in anything right now-”      a tug on his shirt. he looked down.      “what do you think of my drawing? it’s my mom!”      “oh!” hunji squatted down. his shoulders softly slumped and his eyes blinked gently. “i love it! you should keep it in a safe place so she can hang it up when you get home!”

     hunji completely believed in and trusted jun as his senior. it did not matter to him that jun was younger, it only mattered that jun knew far more than hunji could ever dream of knowing.      he stepped aside to let his senior take the lead to their living room.      what if the downstairs people get annoyed- am i too loud- i’m too needy- i need to much i think to much what is wrong with me why am i like this i need to go home how are the girls is everyone okay is she dead focus focus focus dance dance but i messed up i’m all messed up my hands they hurt i’m so tired      his face was completely blank, save for, the windows to his heart. they were wide open and begging for comfort, or, direction. they begged for anything. they completely enraptured themselves in jun. he had to hold onto anything.      “everything- i- i just, er, i forgot the, the-’ he pointed to where he stood earlier as if jun could read that scene. when he pointed, his hand shook. he saw it. he yanked it down. he looked to jun. his head shook back and forth so fast it looked like he was vibrating.      “i-i can’t do the show- i’m already all messed up i can’t do it.” he held his stomach. he pushed down the sudden urge to vomit. “just- just- can do the whole thing together?”

     he stared, blank, as the poor woman rose from what seemed to be an overly deep sleep. he watched her bag slowly fall, topple over, and he squatted down without a fuss. he picked it up as she moved herself and began putting everything back into her bag as it were.      he did not look up from the ground when he answered her. “it’s three-forty.”      he picked up her bag, standing it straight, but still left it on the ground to prevent it from falling over again. he stood, holding his diaper, or, training bag over his shoulder. he looked down at the girl. with the sun gently coming into the hallway, hunji had a sudden, terrible feeling. this was far too much like a romantic manga.      how can this feel like a manga when this girl. . . she’s so ugly.      he looked over all her deep, crazy makeup and gross, crusty, dark hair. does she even shower? her clothes were big and weird too. she wore platform shoes as if she was already a debuted idol. . . he wondered how a girl like this could ever succeed at being an idol if her image is like this. asleep, bad make up, and scary clothes? she was everything that pretty girls were not. still, hunji held back from shaking his head at her. she would open her eyes any second and he only wanted to not hurt her feelings..      it suddenly hit him that she must be american. he cleared his throat and tried his best to speak.      “you go to school today? is this- is- is that why you so very tried?”      hunji looked around, like a meerkat, for help. if any teacher, coach, or even janitor walked by, he wanted to recruit them to help out so he could walk away. there was no way he would leave her alone, but there was no way he would be less than earlier to class, either.      “do you need help? are you new? do you know where your class is? if the teachers see you like this. . .”

     out of the forty-four participants on this season of legacy’s babysitting services, only seven of them were considered the most ‘experienced’ in the show. hunji, being one of them, was happily on his third season. he was prepared to go into a stranger’s house, dote on their kids, teach them something, and leave like always. upon hearing of plans changing, though, he barely even thought of it. he could make the same, happy memory for them with or without their personal home.      while he did not disrespect aaron, in fact respected him greatly for his age and kindness, he did lead. instead of letting aaron take the doorknob, hunji took it this time. he was the first to walk into the daycare.      like a prince, he walked in with his head raised and a gentle smile. places like this, little ‘schools’ like where huijin and, and soon hayun, go to, were some of hunji’s favorite places in the world.      “hello, everyone!” he greeted happily, going right into the sea of five children. he turned around to wave aaron in.      immediately, hunji squatted down, beaming, and asked the children, “what are you guys doing?”      one kid threw up a paper, “i made this!” he said, getting out of his toddler-sized chair to show hunji his sloppily drawn picture.      “yeah! do you like mine?” another girl spoke up. she showed him her picture, just as ugly and clumsily as the little boy’s.      hunji praised them both, patting their heads and expressed, “i love them! you guys are seriously good at this.” and the children happily began drawing again.      hunji did not give them a second of silence, “is it okay if me and my friend-” he turned around to aaron. his jaw suddenly dropped realizing what he said, “i mean, uh, my older brother,” hunji laughed. his throat and jaws already felt sore from the unfamiliar movement and joy, “can we sit and color with you guys?”

     hunji’s brows furrowed. his eyeballs rolled, looking to hyunjin. it was as if hyunjin had vomitted all over his dinner. all hunji could do was shake his head and take a deep breath. he was busy tapping away at his shattered phone, trying to write to hana.      “uh. . .” with one hand, not looking away from his phone, he scooted in his chair. he swallowed. “just. . . sister things. . .” his hands were too lazy to wave hyunjin off.      did someone kidnap dad and replace him? if you need me to come home and delegate, i can.      nah, dad seems to be in a good mood? pretty sus if u ask me :/ come home late, though! we don’t wanna make him mad haha      did you make a typo or is sus a new thing i don’t get?      hunji slowly looked up. a snail hooked hunji’s head on a string and pulled gently. was this real? surely there was some kind of mistake.      he looked behind him. off, far in the back, there was a girl standing alone. hunji turned back to hyunjin, confused, and motioned to her with his thumb. it must be her he’s talking about, right?      it suddenly hit him. ah, this was a prank.      he took a deep breath. his phone slid into his pocket and he shrugged.      “hyunjin. . . did someone tell you to play a prank on me? if you’re going to do it, just do it here, or wait until everyone in lgc can see.” he adjusted his bag and shuffled his feet.

     he stared at her. the door was open. the air from the hallway surely but slowly wafted into the elevator. it was warm. it felt as though it was trying to wrap yeseo and hunji in one blanket. but, anything that touched hunji, became cold. he froze any semblance of warmth.      his eyes hardly blinked. his teeth never shown. he did not flinch. he moved so little that even the movement of his pumping blood, if there was any, was now still. perhaps it was how he was. he was a mere shadow, so even his blood must be silent and cold. or, perhaps, it was because of the way he stared daggers into her in shock. she betrayed him, yet, he never shown it on his face, only in his lack of pumping blood.      before him was an angel. an angel of hope, love, kindness, and something else. was it temptation? if it was, he never experienced it. through all his life he had heard of this woman. a siren. an angel. a vixen. a queen. someone powerful, gorgeous, seductive, and charitable. she used her powers for good. she would steal souls away and lock them in her heart. from the inside, it’s been told, it is only warmth and comfort. she was perfect. she was the perfect somebody. but, hunji had no clue who the someone was. he never met this someone.      to him, the someone, the perfect someone, was a mere myth. bigfoot, the yeti, aliens, and all other things with enough evidence for proof yet not enough for fact, she existed in his mind. he thought she could not be real at all. surely no one stole souls away like she did. it was impossible. it was myth.      then, his best friend disappeared. he was swallowed whole. now, hunji stood before her. here she was. she was more perfect than he. he was less than she could ever be, not even so because of what the masses told him, but because of what he felt in his heart.      you’re so perfect. you stole him away.      he still did not blink. his blood did not pump.      you stole him away faster than i could befriend him. you’re perfect. you’re perfect.      she shrugged. even hunji, infuriated, could not help but find the short woman cute. a shrug? why did her eyes look so large? was this the temptation?      the elevator door began to close.      hunji’s arm slammed out. he never looked away. he stared her down. he held his hand over the door. it surrendered. who would win their staring contest?      he swallowed. he looked above her head. this was his floor.      he took a step to the side. he sighed. the warmth of the hallway began to steal him away.      “well, if you ever want to talk about it, come find me. i’ll always listen.” he fixed the bag on his shoulder. his face softened. was he smiling? if he was, it was even less so than the mona lisa.      he stepped out of the elevator. without thought, he was spun around. the doors began to close.      “i like you, yeseo. you’re impressive.”      he turned his heel. it was time to go write.

     hunji was ready at the mirror. ready for every imperfection and every wrongdoing.      how can i do such great songs- how can i dance in practice so well, but when i have to perform an easy song, it’s hard. i can smile in class but i can’t smile here. what’s wrong with me? am i that terrible? i have to be that terrible. . .      the music never started. hunji still waited, patiently, for daeyeol to hit it. he stared forward, into the mirror, at daeyeol behind him. he blinked once. something felt off, and sure enough, daeyeol began to open his mouth.      hunji held back from sighing and rolling his eyes. instead, like he had been for the past two hours of practice, his face stayed blank.      “we-,” he rolled his shoulders, up, then back, easing their tension. he shook out his arms as he turned around to face the other. “this song- we made a mistake. they want us to challenge- but- we can’t do this. it was- look, it’s too late to change our song anyway, so, we just- i just need to get it together, okay?”      he turned back around to his starting position.      jesus, this daeyeol kid is relentless.      once more he turned.      his deep voice disappeared. he spoke with, instead, a blade of a whisper. it cut through the air silently, but not so silently that it was inaudible. it was the voice of a pissed, venomous snake.      “we can’t do this song because i can’t sing- the other older brothers gave me singing lines. how am i supposed to do that? we’re ruined!” he took a deep breath and turned back. once more, he wanted to practice going through the song again. there just had to be something missing. “i need to practice. if i can rap well enough, maybe no one will notice how poorly i sing.”

     hunji stopped in the snow. that sound. what was that? it sounded like it came from hyunseung, but it was so strange. hunji’s brows furrowed at the older boy. before he knew it, they were onto an entirely new topic. hunji was rushed into the store, but stopped once inside to help hold the door open anyway. anything else would have made him feel strange, if hyunseung was not strange enough as he was.      the questions that flew from his mouth were shockingly collected. like hunji had a paper net in a new york’s breeze. he caught every flying newspaper and tucked them under his arm.      “just one basket. i don’t have a list, but i don’t need one.” hunji took a deep breath. how was one expected to answer all that junk? his eyes avoided the other, instead looking around the tiny market. “it probably has a limit, so don’t spend too much.”      that last thing, that they needed to buy the store, hunji could tell was some sort of weird comment or joke. maybe it was designed to make hunji feel strange. he still ended up falling for it.      the cold made hunji’s voice more deep and sharp than usual. a dark colored, polished onyx logged deep in his throat. all the air that went by it caught it’s dark chill.      “you can’t buy the whole store in two arms’ worth of baskets.”      he walked off into the store, to the back, where he knew they kept the cheapest food.

     hunji watched himself as he danced. it was easy, so easy, yet it felt so wrong and weird. the entire time he performed the happy dance, his face was blank. when he tried to raise his eyebrows in an attempt to look cute, all they would do was lower. when he tried to smile in an attempt to seem excited, all he did was frown. there was no controling the expression on his face.      if there is no happiness within, how can one push that happiness out and forward? it’s pushing nothing.      so, for help, he recruited someone. he picked daeyeol because, for some sad reason, he would drop anything he was doing to watch hunji. hunji could not simply wait for help later.      maybe if i bring someone else, i’ll know what i’m doing wrong. yeah. there has to be something, something obvious. maybe it’s- just- get help. solve the problem. move on. do well.      yet, when it came the end of the song, hunji spun around, posed, and paused.      his forehead was bare and dry. his mouth did not swing open and his nostrils did not flare for air. the choreography was easy, and yet, hunji felt, it was a horrific performance. the likeness of a broken animatronic, hunji saw, was in the mirror. it was wrong. daeyeol should help.      the cheering took far too long. hunji just brushed the water off. why did he even go get water? it was such a waste of time.      hunji wanted to cut right to all the things he was doing wrong, yet, daeyeol gave but one simple instruction. where his foot was?      hunji followed suit. he posed. he ran through the section, making his posture perfect, yet, there was something missing. deep down, he knew what it was, but how could he confide in a stranger? and an annoying one, at that.      “maybe we need to change the song we’re doing. this isn’t right. it’s too-” he turned to daeyeol and snapped his lips shut. he had already said too much.      hunji took a deep breath. his brows furrowed. his shoulders were tense. there was clearly something wrong. the frustration grew in his chest. through gritted teeth he spoke.      “play it again. maybe i need to. . .” i need to sing, “rap better. . . that’s all.”

     no no no this is all wrong- YOU’E INSANE- im trying- YOURE DESPRATE- WHO WOULDN’T BE- YOU! YOU YOU YOU YOU! SHUT UP SHUT UP!      hand? she held it. he ripped it away.      don’t touch me. you’re a monster- she’s help- A MONSTER- you never listen- leave me alone please go i don’t care i don’t care about the poem please go please you’re scaring me PLEASE GO PLEASE-      he slid the paper past his thigh. he let it flutter onto the floor. he begged for it to be swept up and into the trash, never to be seen again. he had to go home. any papers he could not bring home would go in the trash, or would be turned into seojin, half finished, ugly, and all.      how do you know my name? how do you know me? are you here to-to kill me? kill me. make fun of me. i don’t care.      he looked to the window. he pictured a jump. he panted. he looked back to her. he balled himself up. he was a terrified child.      “wh-why,” he gasped, “why are you doing this to me? did you just-” he could feel his lips shaking. he could not speak another word. a tear fell. another. he wiped them so quickly. it looked like he was hitting himself.      “i-i don’t,” he gasped. there was only one thing he wanted. it was sad. it was awful. he wanted to go home. he wanted to go somewhere no one could ever take him again.      “please- did you just- if you just came here to make fun of me, then do it,” he begged. his throat strained like a scream but his voice vanished like a whisper.      he could feel snot growing in his nose. the stress. why did she know so much. who was she?      “just- just make fun of me and go away, okay?"

     old boots on new snow. it had been snowing for a while. korea got more snow than usual, or at least, more than expected. hunji knew how to walk through it well. he used his old boots. ever since he was near ten his feet were the same size. his shoes had holes on the sides where fabric would tear from the sole. the laces were chewed on, once by a younger sibling, and recently by his new puppy. he could feel water drip onto his pinky toe every now and then. he knew what it was.      he wondered when he would get new shoes. his dad would not give him money for them, for, they were not a priority in his father’s mind. it would be years, maybe never, before hunji was gifted new shoes.      he wondered if he could steal his father’s good boots. he wore them everywhere when it snowed, much how hunji wore his boots. but, no, hunji thought, he did not want to get hit for stealing. he would walk. besides, as they turned the corner, the next convince store was less than a block away.      hunji reached behind himself and double checked for the manager’s card. they had to use it to buy snacks for their new fans. there was no way hunji would be getting new shoes soon.

     BENJI: questions about america/his home life, his lack of popularity/notoriety, his always good mood despite not debuting, the rumors that he did murals for famous rich people around the world, his free time interests, and his clothes/why he always wears the same thing.      also, if you read this far, give this a little like so i can send you some questions too! (i rlly love coming up with them actually! i’d be happy to send one or more~)

     “shh-” hunji leaned into max’s face. hunji took a deep breath. sure, max was his friends, but waking the girls was a line no one would cross. if max wanted to pull his own weight, even on christmas, in the chwe household, he must be absolutely silent or whispering at the least, excitement be damned. “stop-” being so excited all the time, “-yelling. it’s christmas and everyone is asleep but you.”      hunji poked his index finger on max’s forehead and pushed the boy away as hard as he could. one wrong move would wake hayun. that would break hunji’s heart more than the hugs max always showered him in anyway.      hunji let the boy drink his coffee. he closed his eyes with a disappointed sigh. he did not need to see max to know how he was going to react. he just shook his head. was it too soon to turn the oven light on? maybe one more minute.      he took his mug back and swallowed as much as he could. he was going to need every drop of caffeine he could get if he was going to be alone with max all morning. hunji, despite always rising early, never understood how the other was energized as soon as he woke up.      perhaps a backpack with no weight in it was what made max so light.      hunji was fully turned to the counter, preparing a pan to begin making morning omelets with. he listened to max, patiently, but did not need ears to hear every word.      “without you?” hunji cocked a brow at the boy. he kept his voice hushed, “i thought i would get some peace and quiet around here.”      he took to his mitts once more. he pulled the oven open. he knew max would know better than to stand in front of it while hunji was bent to take out the bread. so, he threw it open, quietly, and smelled the air.      that was the perfect smell of sweet buns he was looking for. it was just what mom used to make.      hunji felt as though he had cried out all the tears he could ever muster. yet, on christmas morning, alone at the oven, hunji could feel a prick in his nose. he took a deep breath. he wanted to move on, to talk about anything else, but all he could do was think the same thought over and over. eventually, he had nothing more that he could say. he parted his lips before max had a chance.      “no, you can not have one yet,” he started. a light, dead chuckle following. he swallowed. there was no getting around it. if they were to have a good christmas, or any at all, hunji needed to at least say it out loud.      rather casually for a man on the verge of tears, and even more quiet for someone who tried to not sob, hunji asked with a slight turn of his head but a phobia of eye contact, “so. . . year two without mom, huh?”      did it come off as a joke? it was anything but funny. anything resembling a smile, or even a blank expression, turned cold and hard like stone. why on christmas? why was she gone for christmas?      “do-. . . do you think-”      he has a girlfriend. he doesn’t care about you at all. he’s a stranger. a figment. just shut the hell up. he doesn’t care and he won’t care. you’ll never be important to him ever again. kick him out. send him home. he hates you-      “never mind. go brush your teeth, please.”