this was the easy part. finding a place in hongdae that was just crowded enough on a sunday night. it wasn’t hard to find someone busking. it was common in the area. it wasn’t the first time hongseok had done it either.

   it was a busy time. young adults like him going from bar to club to just chatting on the street as they munched on ddeukboki. he had his acoustic guitar plugged in to the amp, a gift from his adoptive father a few years back. “what idol doesn’t know how to play the guitar”, he said with a bright smile. hongseok couldn’t say no.

   it wasn’t a grand stage, but it was something. he smiled to himself, muttering a small prayer to whoever wanted to listen. he wasn’t a religious person, but before every performance, he prayed. he prayed that he wouldn’t make a mistake. he prayed that he would get his chance. he prayed for his sister.

   this was for her after all.

   with one last prayer, he stepped forward to the microphone (another gift from his adoptive parents) as he spoke, “hope you all are having a great night. let’s get to the music.”

   he took a deep breath before he started. his english wasn’t by any means perfect, but the softness of the song matched with the guitar added a soulful depth.

Help me, it's like the walls are caving in Sometimes I feel like giving up But I just can't It isn't in my blood Laying on the bathroom floor, feeling nothing I'm overwhelmed and insecure, give me something I could take to ease my mind slowly Just have a drink and you'll feel better Just take her home and you'll feel better Keep telling me that it gets better Does it ever? Help me, it's like the walls are caving in Sometimes I feel like giving up No medicine is strong enough Someone help me I'm crawling in my skin Sometimes I feel like giving up But I just can't It isn't in my blood It isn't in my blood Looking through my phone again feeling anxious Afraid to be alone again, I hate this I'm trying to find a way to chill, can't breathe, oh Is there somebody who could...

   he channeled in all the hurt he felt over the last twenty-one years. the fighting between his parents. comforting his sister when their mother died. trying to provide for her. trying to find her. 

    if he knew anything about making music, he knew the best thing was to use your own heart break. the audience will feel it.

Help me, it's like the walls are caving in Sometimes I feel like giving up No medicine is strong enough Someone help me I'm crawling in my skin Sometimes I feel like giving up But I just can't It isn't in my blood It isn't in my blood I need somebody now I need somebody now Someone to help me out I need somebody now Help me, it's like the walls are caving in Sometimes I feel like giving up But I just can't It isn't in my blood It isn't in my blood It isn't in my blood I need somebody now It isn't in my blood I need somebody now It isn't in my blood

  as he finished the last line, he allowed the music to softly fall away as he held out the last note a bit longer. he opened his eyes and smiled as the small crowd clapped. some even cheered. he smiled a bright toothy grin as he waved, “thank you! i’m yang hongseok! please remember the name!”

The teacher had said that happy thoughts were required to successfully cast a Patronus. At the time, Damien couldn't think of any. The death of his parents still felt too fresh even though a few years had already passed. He had also not yet opened up completely to his new family, despite their unending patience and love. He was quiet, withdrawn and there was this constant desire to destroy something, to release all the feelings he kept bottled up. So when the time came to cast his Patronus, nothing came out of his wand and he knew that practice, in this case, wasn't going to fix the problem.

So he let years pass without trying again. During those years, he had matured and made friends. He had opened up to his adoptive family and grown more comfortable around them. Memories of his biological parents had become fond ones. They weren't painful anymore, instead bringing a gentle smile to his face whenever he remembered them.

So on November 22nd, during his 7th year at Hogwarts, after celebrating his birthday with Perseus and his friends, he had retired to his dorm room. There, sitting cross-legged on his bed, he had closed his eyes and taken a deep breath.

This time, happy memories came flooding in. Spending time in the garden and dancing with his biological mother, his biological father telling him stories, days spent playing with Perseus in the backyard of the family house in Glasgow, the smell of the Mei wand shop, the smiles of his adoptive parents, the warmth of their embrace, etc.

For years, he had wondered about what his patronus was going to be. In the beginning, back when he was still hurting, he had been afraid that it would end up being a snake. Back then, he already had trouble accepting the fact he had been sorted into Slytherin, thinking that it was a terrible thing and that he must have been a terrible person for being sorted into that House. Not only that, but the fact he was a Parselmouth and that he had to keep it a secret had also been difficult to deal with.

Then, as memories of his biological parents stopped being painful, he thought that maybe his patronus would end up being a butterfly. Something about going through a transformation and coming out of it changed for the better. Also, there used to be plenty of butterflies in the garden and he really liked them.

When he had reopened his eyes though, after reciting the spell, it wasn't a snake or a butterfly that had taken shape from the light pouring out of his wand, but a shark. It had started peacefully circling him and Damien hadn't been able to do anything but gape at it because what the fuck? What did it mean, what was a shark supposed to represent?

He had asked his teacher the next day.

He blinks as he lets his memories of that time fade away, the ambiant noise of the common room reaching his ears once again. He smiles as he closes his book and stands up, his teacher's answer from back then still echoing in his mind and the image of the wink he had thrown at him after still vivid.

The set-up is very simple, a chair in front of a screen and cameras. Someone motions for him to sit down so he does just that, making himself comfortable. Somehow, he isn’t intimidated by the cameras. Despite not having a YouTube channel to post vlogs or anything of the sort, Yongguk has always been comfortable talking in front of a classroom when he was younger. He doesn’t feel like this is much different.

He sees the staff getting into position and finally, someone tells him to briefly introduce himself before they will start with the questions. He nods and straightens up, looking at the interviewer who is sitting next to the camera. That way, it looks like he is looking at the camera, but he’s focusing on a person which feels more comfortable to him.

“My name is Bang Yongguk. I am 24 years old and would love to get signed under TRC,” he says, his voice coming out deep which causes quite a couple of eyebrows to raise in surprise. He doesn’t know why most people seem to be surprise by it. What kind of voice do they expect him to have when they see him for the first time? He never dared ask.

The interviewer smiles at him and crosses their legs.

“Why do you want to be an idol?”

Aaaah, he thinks, of course they would ask such a question. He takes a deep breath and leans his elbows over the arms of the chair, joining his fingers over his lap in a casual position. “I don’t,” he replies without any hesitation. He can tell that they weren’t expecting such an answer and he knows that he needs to develop so he does. “Ideally, I want to be signed as a rapper and I know it is possible to be signed to a label without being part of an idol group. Also, it is a known fact that rappers in idol groups are called ‘fake’. I don’t agree with this as some groups have amazing rappers, but they are still judged by those who aren’t in idol groups.”

The interviewer nods and scribbles some notes down on the paper held by their clipboard.

“You mentioned wanting to be signed as a rapper, would you consider rap to be your best skill?”

“Absolutely,” he replies immediately. “I wasn’t always good. When I started, I had no idea what I was doing. I was fascinated by the emotions that were being shared through lyrics, the passion behind the battles. I learned by watching other underground rappers do their thing, and eventually started writing my own lyrics and composing my own music.”

“Did you learn on your own?”

He bites his bottom lip and briefly looks down at his hands. “Yeah. I’m used to doing things on my own so when it came to composition, I just played around with things until I got something that sounded great to me. I’ve been told by some of my friends that I have a good ear and maybe I do, I don’t really know since I never really studied music, other than those piano lessons when I was in elementary school.” He shrugs and offers the interviewer a small smile.

“What do you think you still need to improve on?”

He lets out a light bark of laughter at this and promptly apologizes, covering his mouth with his hand. “Dancing and singing. I do like to sing sometimes, but it’s something I do when I’m alone at home and most of the time, it’s just light humming while I’m working on new music. I don’t think my voice is quite right for singing, but who knows. Maybe with some vocal training, something good could come out of it. As for dancing, I’ve always admired those who can b-boy, but I never took the time to learn, you know? I would work hard to learn and then improve if I was casted by a company who wanted me to debut as an idol though.”

“Who are your biggest influences?”

Now that is a hard question and he reaches up to squeeze his chin between his fingers as he thinks about it. He knows he needs to be quick as there is a limited time for the interview. He hesitates. He knows they want to hear about who inspires him, but it’s not people who influence him, not really. He lowers his hand and runs them over his thighs.

“I am not really influenced by anyone,” he begins cautiously, wondering if they are going to think he’s being too cocky by saying that. “When it comes to what influences me as a person, I’d like to say that it is my background that made me into the person I am today. The things I had to dealt with in the past and how I overcame the obstacles that were on my path. When it comes to influences regarding my music, I get inspired by the injustices of the world, by society, news, anything really. I think that my style of rapping may have been influenced by all these underground rappers that I have been listening to and learning from, but I can’t name someone specific.”

“Most people tend to answer the previous question with a member of their family. That wasn’t your case. What’s your family like?”

His jaw clenches upon hearing the question. Why did they want to know about his family? What did it have to do with him wanting to be signed to a company? His previously friendly and open posture and expression suddenly change, and he crosses his arms over his chest, crosses his legs and his eyes get slightly darker. He wants to snap at them that this is none of their business, but he also knows that if he ever becomes a celebrity, people will dig for his past, so he might as well be honest even though it doesn’t make him happy at all. He digs his nails into the skin of his arms as he finally opens his mouth to speak.

“I’ve never met my father. My mother had me when she was sixteen years old and her parents refused to help her, so I never met my grandparents either. My mother raised me on her own. It’s always been just me and her.” He doesn’t mention all the men his mother met over the years who he sometimes only saw once while others stayed around for months. “I don’t live with my mother anymore. She…” he pauses and takes another deep breath, reaching up to ruffle his hair out of frustration. “Raising me alone, it was hard and eventually she started to resent me. Let’s just say that we’re not really seeing each other often anymore, but I still make sure to check up on her occasionally.”

He doesn’t like the look of pity he thinks he can see in the interviewer’s eyes, but thankfully another question is thrown at him before he can dwell on it too much.

“What is the biggest obstacle you’ve had to overcome so far?”

“My anger.” He slowly relaxes again now that he doesn’t have to talk about his family anymore. “It festered inside of me back when I was in high school and I didn’t know how to deal with it back then, so I made a lot of stupid decisions. Got involved with a bad crowd, did drugs, etc. I hated the situation at home, I didn’t feel like I belonged at school, so I found outlets to deal with these feelings I had.” He lightly scratches his arm. “Then I discovered underground rapping and it helped me so much. I cleaned up my act, decided I needed to get my life back on tracks so I found small jobs and saved all the money I could to get my own apartment and be fully independent.”

“This is our last question: if you weren’t trying to be an idol, what would you be doing right now?”

“I’d still be working as a janitor, which is my current job, and I would probably try to start my own YouTube channel. I’d continue to write lyrics and compose my own music, maybe post some of my composition online and see if this gets me a small following. I could also try to write some songs for a friend of mine who’s also a rapper. If he gets famous before me, maybe he can credit me in his album and if people like what they hear they might give me a call,” he shrugs as he lets out a chuckle. “I’d still be doing something related to music, that’s for sure.”

there’s the question of just how valuable jaehyun is. sure he’s a fairly good singer ( or at least that’s what he’d like to believe, really ). his dancing isn’t spectacular but it isn’t horrible either.

he levels himself, compares himself to everyone else and maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be too bad to try.

the song he picks is the first song he’d sung during his very first evaluation. jaehyun knows that perhaps he delves into memories too much but it’s a song he’s comfortable with, a song that he’s received criticism and feedback for. at the very least, even if this fear of change hangs within him, there’s still this comfort of it being his first song that stays.

he decides to put his own twist into it this time though, and instead uses the piano as an accompaniment. if there’s anything he thinks he’s better at than singing, he’d like to believe that it’s his ability to play the piano ( thank you mum and dad for forcing me into lessons, he briefly thinks ).

it’s probably he’s third take by now and jaehyun wonders once again if this is worth it. if this is a sign that he should just stay in royal and not wander of somewhere else.

i have family here. 

one more time. 

he gulps down his bottle of water and clicks record once more.

one more time.

his fingers hit the piano, gently playing each note, his eyes don’t wander away from the keys except to close them ever so slightly. 

하얗게 피어난 얼음 꽃 하나가 달가운 바람에 얼굴을 내밀어 아무 말 못했던 이름도 몰랐던 지나간 날들에 눈물이 흘러        ( a white ice flower that bloomed        puts its face out in the welcoming wind        it sheds tears over the wordless and nameless past )

he begins and just like his instructor had told him months ago, he pours his heart into the song.

( “you’re a good singer. but i feel like you lack something.”

the boy stares at the instructor, hands clenched against the bottom of his shirt nervously. it’s his first evaluation after all, jaehyun doesn’t want a bad first impression.

“you’re still young, so it’s possible you don’t know hearbreak yet,” the instructor laughs and jaehyun finds himself smiling along as well. “it’s emotion. you need a little more emotion when you sing.” )

and so jaehyun does just that. it’s true, he’s never experienced heartbreak –– or at least, not the kind of romantic heartbreak many believe to be the only and strongest kind to exist. 

he thinks of himself. thinks of how the first time he’d sung this song, it was almost a dedication to his father –– the man that had never heard his own son sing.

차가운 바람에 숨어 있다 한줄기 햇살에 몸 녹이다 그렇게 너는 또 한번 내게 온다       ( hiding in the cold wind       melting down under the single ray of sunlight       that’s how you came to me once more )

jaehyun had been a winter child, born in february to a family that hadn’t been as loving as he hoped. he’d spent much of his childhood putting up a facade, had been trained to do things a certain way.

that’s how you came to me once more.

and then he thinks of royal –– no. he thinks of kibum. he thinks of their encounter in london years ago, how fifteen year old jaehyun had ran up to a stranger, attempting to save his life (only to have his own saved in return).

좋았던 기억만 그리운 마음만 니가 떠나간 그 길 위에 이렇게 나만 서있다 잊혀질 만큼만 괜찮을 만큼만 눈물 머금고 기다린 떨림 끝에 다시 나를 피우리라       ( only good memories, only a longing heart       on the path where you left me       i’m standing alone       only until i can forget you, until i will be alright       i’ll swallow my tears and at the end of my wait       i will bloom once again )

it’s a song about growth, and throughout his last few years, jaehyun had learnt many things about himself. he sings the song like a story, memory reeling in his head. he sees kibum and he sees their past.

as much as he’d jokingly called kibum ‘dad’, kibum had always been more of a father to jaehyun than his own. so he knows where this fear stems from, this inability to leave royal (maybe because royal felt so much more like a home than his home ever did too).

i will bloom once again. though he also knows that he can’t stay like this forever, so afraid. so jaehyun will grow –– he’ll take this chance to grow.

his fingers glide against the piano as he readies himself for the second verse, and he understands now what his instructor had meant when he’d said jaehyun had been lacking emotion the first time he sang. 

he’d been lacking fear and desperation.

he feels it now.

사랑은 피고 또 지는 타버리는 불꽃 빗물에 젖을까 두 눈을 감는다       ( love is a fiery flower that blooms and withers       in case i get wet with the rain, i close my eyes )

and jaehyun just does just this as he sings. he closes his eyes and pours every emotion into this song.

what he sees is the other royal trainees, what he remembers is them. 

어리고 작았던 나의 맘에 눈부시게 빛나던 추억 속에 그렇게 너를 또 한번 불러본다       ( in my youth and small heart       the dazzling memories shine       i call out to you once again )

there’s this tightening in his chest as he sings. he thinks of dongmin, thinks of baekhyun, thinks of yien –– he thinks of everybody he’s interacted with in royal.

in his mind sits the memory of baekhyun treating him out to kbbq the day he’d gotten the call for royal. 

where, he wonders, where else could he find camaraderie like this? who else would treat him out to kbbq?

his dream was once to get into a company before it evolved itself into debuting with the royal boys.

and now jaehyun was taking a step that scared him, a step towards change.

좋았던 기억만 그리운 마음만 니가 떠나간 그 길 위에 이렇게 나만 서있다 잊혀질 만큼만 괜찮을 만큼만 눈물 머금고 기다린 떨림 끝에 그때 다시 나는       ( only good memories, only a longing heart       on the path where you left me       i’m standing alone       only until i can forget you, until i will be alright       i’ll swallow my tears and at the end of my wait       then once again, i will )

he sings the chorus once again with more vigour. as he sings he realizes that his heart isn’t wavering, he’d just been a boy who never quite experienced this much familial love and jaehyun was afraid of letting that go.

he sings with certainty, confidence, longing. just like the song is about.

메말라가는 땅 위에 온몸이 타 들어가고 내 손끝에 남은 너의 향기 흩어져 날아가       ( on top of the dry land       my entire body is burning       your scent that remained on my fingers is scattering away )

the song gets to it’s climax and he has to raise his voice to reach the higher notes, his heart bursts as he sings and for a moment jaehyun is afraid he might actually cry.

which is ridiculous really, crying because of memories, because of the boys he’s trained with.

your scent that remained on my fingers is scattering away.

his voice gets louder as he reaches the last chorus, his own eyes closed as he feels the piano below his fingers, tapping on each note of the song.

멀어져 가는 너의 손을 붙잡지 못해 아프다 살아갈 만큼만 미워했던 만큼만 먼 훗날 너를 데려다 줄 그 봄이 오면 그날에 나 피우리라       ( your hand that is growing far apart       i can’t hold onto it so it hurts       just until i can survive, just as much as i hated you       when the spring comes to bring you back later on       then i will bloom on that day )

jaehyun finally understands it, he understands the desperation in this song. this intense need to grow, to bloom. it’s funny because he was after all a part of the ‘royal garden’. 

he sings with passion, voice getting higher and louder as he falls deep into the melody of himself singing. he remembers his first evaluation, how he’d only chosen this song to challenge himself, to find out if he really could hit those notes or not. and now, to finally be able to do it cleaner, he feels a sense of pride.

and then he pauses, takes in a deep breath for dramatics before he presses the keys against the piano once more. slowly, gently, as the song comes to an end.

“la... la... la...”

   his body felt cold. he stared at the older woman, his eyes wide. his heart felt like it was going to come up his throat, “jinah... is... missing?”

   as he repeated the words, he was certain he was going to be sick.

   song jinyoung, the owner of the orphanage, kneeled down in front of hongseok. she cupped his face. even she looked like she was going to cry. she always had a soft spot for hongseok and jinah. when she had to send jinah to another orphanage for her behavior, she cried in apology for hours. she promised hongseok she’d take him to see jinah whenever he wanted. she had no other choice but to send jinah. she caused too much trouble. even hongseok understood.

   they had arrived at the other orphanage so hongseok could spend christmas with jinah, but when they arrived, it wasn’t good news.

    “oh, you sweet boy, i’m so sorry,” she whispered.

     it still hadn’t hit him. his entire body felt sluggish. he just stared at her for a long time, his eyes slowly brimming with tears. his breath hitched and it was in that moment it dawned on him. 

   he was alone.

   his mother was gone.

   his father was gone.

   and now jinah was gone.

   “n-no...”

   “hongseokkie, i’ll find her,” jinyoung promised.

   he backed away from her, his head shaking as the tears fell down his cheek. he choked on a sob as he continued to shake his head, “no. no. no. jinah! jinah! yang jinah!”

   hongseok took off down the road, yelling for his sister. jinyoung and two others from the orphanage chased after him. jinyoung caught him from him and held him as he collapsed on the floor, his sobbing louder as he tried to scream for jinah.

   “jinah! come back! jinah! don’t... don’t leave me... too,” he cried into jinyoung’s arms, “don’t... go... please...”

PREVIOUS MUSICAL EXPERIENCE: 

·         Learned piano in elementary school

·         Participant in the Hongdae Talent Show

·         Participate in underground rap battle & has won a couple

·         Write/compose my own lyrics/music

FAMILY RELATIONS: 

Mother: Bang Eunhee, 40 - waitress

SPECIAL SKILL: Rapping

OTHER TALENTS: 

·         Writing lyrics

·         Producing

·         Composing music

·         Hula-hooping

·         Saving money

·         Drawing

·         Taking care of others

FAVORITE MUSICIAN/INSPIRATION:

M.I.A, Outsider, my friend Kim Sungwon [a/n: Sleepy] who is a rapper, Teddy

DREAM COMPANY: TRC

2ND DREAM COMPANY: Doesn’t have one. He hasn’t thought about it.

IMAGE PROFILE: click here

He’s taking stuff out of the bag when his mother sticks her head out of the bathroom and looks at him. Her whole face brightens up instantly and she steps out of the small room. Yongguk thinks that his mother looks beautiful. She has clearly tried to dress up for the occasion judging by the dress she is wearing which is hugging her body and revealing her shoulders. She left her long hair untied so it reaches the middle of her back, but she curled it into gorgeous waves. She gingerly makes his way over to Yongguk and reaches out to cup his face between her palms.

“Gosh, look at you. Did you get taller?” she asks, smiling warmly at him and he rolls his eyes because she always asks him this, despite his growing spurt being long over. “Hi mom,” he says and moves to press a kiss on each of her cheeks. She notices the bag of groceries then and glances back up at him. “What’s this?” she asks him and reaches over to rummage around the bag. He lets her as he explains that he bought a couple of things to make dinner later. A pout appears on her red lips. “I should have told you that this wouldn’t be necessary, but I completely forgot,” she says as she starts putting back the things he had taken out into the bag. “I already cooked us a feast!”

He arches his eyebrows as he leans his hip against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest, watching his mother pack things away as she hums softly under his breath. Now this is unexpected. The situation so far makes him wonder if he is dreaming or if he really is in his mother’s apartment. The fact that everything is so clean, that she dressed up and now to learn that she even cooked? He can’t remember the last time she went to such lengths for a Christmas spent together. “Is someone else joining us?” he suddenly asks, because this is the only reason he came up with to explain everything.

His mother stops moving, but eventually she looks up at him as she turns to face him. “No one’s coming over baby. It’s just us tonight, like usual,” she tells him with a smile, but he thinks it looks sad and he feels bad because his mother seems to be in one of her good moods and he definitely doesn’t want to ruin that. “Sorry,” he says softly. “I’m just not used to see you like this, so I thought you might be trying to introduce me to my new father.” He hopes that this isn’t going to make her think about his true father and upset her so he is bracing himself, but his mother ends up swatting his chest with the back of her hand and laughing softly.

“Don’t say such nonsense,” she replies, but he doesn’t miss the way her cheeks turn pink. He doesn’t comment on it though and instead gives his mother’s forehead a kiss. “Do you want me to help you with the food?” She shakes her head and gently pushes him out of the kitchen and toward the living room. “Just make yourself comfortable. You can turn on the television and see if there is some Christmas special on. I like when we get to see all those young women and men sing and dance.”

----------------------------------------------------------------

It turned out that his mother had not lied when she had said she had cooked. Once she had told him that the meal was ready, he had gotten up from the couch and moved to set the table. He had then helped his mother bring all the food to the table. He had eyed her warily when she had come back with a bottle of red wine, but he didn’t try to stop her from bringing it to the table. He reasoned that it was Christmas and that it was okay to celebrate. If anything, he could watch how much she drank and make sure to stop her before it got too bad. She poured the alcohol into the glasses and then raised her glass for a toast.

The food was delicious and Yongguk couldn’t remember the last time he had been able to eat something that his mother had cooked for him. It tasted so good that he felt a lump form in his throat from all the emotions it suddenly raised in him and he swallowed a mouthful of soup to ease the lump down and hopefully stop himself from crying. It would have been ridiculous. As they ate, his mother asked him about his work and told him about hers. She was a waitress now, had been for a few years now and she had told him she liked it more than the club she used to work at. That it made her feel more normal and not like a complete failure. He never saw his mother as a failure, but this was something that she needed to believe herself. It was good that her work was helping with that.

After the meal, he told his mother that it was her turn to go relax in the living room while he took care of the dishes. She caressed his cheek, saying she couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have such a good son, and then she grabbed the wine bottle and brought it with her, along with her glass, to the living room. Yongguk washed the dishes while keeping an eye on his mother. She was taking a sip from her glass every once in a while, but didn’t seem to be heavily drinking which was reassuring.

He eventually puts the last plate away to dry and rinses the suds off his hands before shaking them over the sink twice and reaching for a rag nearby to dry them. He then makes his way toward the living room and moves to sit down next to his mother. She instantly curls up against his side, lifting her legs and folding them to the side. They stay like this in silence for a while, simply watching tv. After what must have been an hour, his mother straightens up and sets her empty glass of wine on the coffee table. She turns toward Yongguk and reaches over to take his hands between hers.

“My mother called,” she suddenly announces and Yongguk doesn’t know how to react to the news because in all his 24 years of existence, he has never met his grandparents. His mother always said that they refused to keep in touch so why would they suddenly call? “What did she want?” he asks, moving his hands so they are over his mother’s ones instead, holding them as he can feel her fingers trembling. She laughs airily as if the matter of the phone call had been ridiculous, and perhaps it had been. “She said that both her and my father would like to meet you.” Yongguk frowns. “What? Why? I mean, why now?” His mother shrugs as she shakes her head. “I don’t know…” She bites her lips next and Yongguk knows that she’s not telling him everything.

“Well, what did you tell them? I hope you told them they could go fuck themselves,” he says, not even sorry about what he has just said. His mother seems to feel otherwise as she exclaims, “Yongguk! Don’t talk like that. They’re your grandparents!” He snorts and looks at his mother in a way that makes it seem like he is silently asking her if she’s serious. “Why not? I don’t know them. Mom, you really can’t be serious? They left you alone. They didn’t try to help you when you needed them the most. They never tried to meet me before and suddenly, almost 25 years later, they suddenly decide they have the right to just reappear into your life and do whatever they want?”

His mother grimaces and pulls her hands out of his, folding them on her lap instead. She starts wringing them together. “I know…” she whispers, not daring to look at him, “but they are my parents. Baby, I know you may not understand but…I miss them.” He stares at her in disbelief. “Even with all the shit you had to endure because of them? Do they even know what you had to do? How you had to live to be able to raise me?” His mother looks down at her knees while she shakes her head. Of course. She wouldn’t tell them about all the hardships she had to endure. He had thought his mother would have grown resentful over the years, that she would have laughed in their face and hung up on them, but instead, it was the vulnerable side of his mother that had won. The side that probably represented the teenager she used to be, the sixteen years old who needed her parents by her side as she tried to raise a newborn.

That’s when the doorbell rings, startling them both. His mother quickly scrambles up to her feet though and rapidly tugs on her dress to smooth the fabric down before brushing some strands of her hair behind her ears. “I thought you said I didn’t have a new father to meet,” he tells her as he watches her walk to the entrance of the apartment. “And I wasn’t lying,” she says before unlocking the door and pulling the door open. She moves aside as she motions for people to enter and Yongguk automatically stands up when he sees an older man and woman stepping into the apartment.

They are dressed very elegantly. The man helps the woman remove her coat and hands it over to Yongguk’s mother who takes it and hangs it in the closet. They take off their boots as his mother prepares slippers for them. Yongguk wonders when she got those. His mother takes the man’s coat and puts it aside as well before motioning for them to come in further. Both the man and the woman walk with their heads held high and Yongguk doesn’t know much about fashion, even less about old people fashion, but he has been spending enough time with Hyungwon to know that what they are wearing is expensive. The woman looks exactly like his mother and if he hadn’t known who they were as soon as the door had opened, he would have definitely known now.

His mother clears her throat and goes to stand next to him. “Mother, father, this is my son Yongguk…your grandson. Yongguk, this is my mother and my father…your grandparents.” He tries to guess what she must be feeling by the tone of her voice. He wants to look at her, but he can’t tear his gaze away from his grandparents. A part of him understand why she needed the wine after all because right now he feels like he could use a bottle of vodka to wake up from this nightmare. The woman, his grandmother, tries to take a step toward him, but something stops her. It must be the cold glare he’s giving them. His mother gently runs her hand down his arm and tugs on his wrist so he sits back down on the couch. She invites her parents to sit down as well, which they do.

They keep glancing around, and Yongguk crosses his arms because he knows what they are doing. They are making notes of their daughter home and how she has been handling her life during all these years. He knows his mother has tried to clean, but it doesn’t hide the faded colour of the carpet or its frayed edges. It doesn’t hide the years of the furniture. It has never bothered him before, but now that his grandparents are there, sticking out like sore thumbs with how they are dressed, it does bother him. His mother disappears briefly to get her parents something to drink and an awkward silence settles in the living room. If they think that he is going to be the first to say something, they’re wrong.

Thankfully his mother returns rapidly, handing glasses to her parents before going to take a seat next to Yongguk. The silence stretches on, no one seems to be willing to be the first to speak or maybe none of them know how to break the silence. Yongguk’s grandfather is staring at him and grumbles something inaudible before taking a sip from his glass. His grandmother throws him what looks like an apologetic smile before she also takes a sip from her glass. As for his own mother, it appears that she has poured herself another glass of wine. Why is he the only one not drinking anything?

Yongguk doesn’t know if his mother thought this would make for a great Christmas present, but he’s not happy about this. He probably should at least pretend to be if he knew it would made his mother happy, but he doesn’t even know how his mother truly feels about this. Everything is happening too fast. When he came here to spend Christmas with his mother, he didn’t expect to end up meeting his grandparents. When he sees that no one is saying anything, he sighs loudly and suddenly stands up before walking out of the living room and toward the entrance. He feels eyes on him and he hears his mother stand up, can hear her heels on the floor and soon she is by his side as he is grabbing his coat. “What are you doing?” she asks him, with an hint of panic in her voice.