love, your biggest fan | maxwell & jongin
aijongin
“You know what the best way to learn Korean is?” his mother grinned at him from over the book she was reading--one of which he published. He rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the television he was watching. “Kpop,” she replied, as if he had answered her.
(For the record, he didn’t.)
She kicked his foot to make him sit up straight, allowing herself more room on the couch they shared. He groaned and sat up, running his hands through his hair as he spoke to her in his clear English while he watched her grab the remote, changing the channel from the Discovery channel to one with flashing lights and catchy tunes. “Mom, I was watching that!”
“Speak in Korean, you uncultured child,” she laughed at him in her perfect Korean dialect, causing him to grumble at her underneath his breath (in English), wondering why he had so little friends that he had to hang out with his mom on a Friday afternoon. “Look, this is EXO. My friends and I love them--they’re about your age, kind of, and they’re adorable. Jongin’s my bias!” She pointed to one of the numerous males flouncing across the stage, except the one she chose actually looked like he knew what he was doing. “You should listen to them! Ooooh, you know what... you should help me write them fan-mail!” Maxwell turned to her and gaped at her.
His mother was quite the character.
Now worked up and too enthusiastic about the project, she reached for his father’s idle iPad on the table and brought it to life. “This is their Naver page,” she grinned, proud that she managed to maneuver the internet that far. “Will you make an account and say something for me?”
“Why can’t you do this yourself?” he exclaimed in his broken Korean, still abiding to her request despite his clear refusal to.
“Because I’m not good with computers!” she huffed, peering over his shoulder as he made the account for her. Rolling his eyes, he showed her EXO’s home page, scrolling down to the bottom where fans could leave notes for the celebrities. “Okay, okay... write this: Jongin, you’re a wonderful dancer! Love, someone as old as your mother.”
Maxwell wanted to die of embarrassment, but proceeded to type out the message (in his very broken Korean, so there was a 95% chance that half the things were misspelled or lost in translation) and hit enter, turning the iPad off just as quick as it was turned on.
He has got to make some more friends.
