#creativity 3

There wasn’t a single family out there that didn’t have its problems in one way or another. He refused to believe in the image of an ideal family, because humanity was too flawed to live up to ideals. He too had a family once -- it was big, and messy, and problematic, and rowdy, and worrisome, and he loved it more than anything else in the world.

Safe for maybe his brother, there wasn’t a single member of his family that he could outright say he disliked. But even so what he felt towards his brother had probably never outright been hatred. If anything, it could better be described with ‘pity’ and ‘pride’. At the time he didn’t know better, at the time those emotions were accepted and nurtured. He was someone worthwhile. He was not a failure.

Youngjae had always used his brother as a stepping stone towards acceptance and adoration. What did it matter that he could lord about one who could not control his temper and his self, one who brought shame upon the family? No one cared about trash like that. No one would ever turn their gazes towards someone as sorry and pitiful as that. But in contrast Youngjae was the genius, the hardworking one, the one who could pave the road for even more success. The brighter the light, the darker the shadow, and the more his own light grew, the more ugly and twisted the viewpoints towards his older brother became. 

He didn’t know better. He didn’t know better.

Thus was easy enough to say, but in the end a pitiful excuse. He did know better, he always knew better, and he enjoyed it. To this day he would still think back to his fifteen year old self exchanging sake cups with the oyabun on the very day his brother had been exiled from the family, and he would remember the intense sense of pride that had filled him.

Where was his brother even now? He didn’t know. He wouldn’t be able to tell for sure if his own brother by blood was even still alive. But even if neither of them were associated with the family anymore, Youngjae didn’t really want to know, and he didn’t really want to meet him again if he ever had the chance.

What had once been immense pride now left nothing but regret and bitterness. He was older now and had a shit ton of bad history to look back on, and there wasn’t a second where he wanted to just press delete on everything and start over again. Grow up as a normal child in a normal family with normal parents and a normal brother. Maybe they could have played video games together or football or gone to the arcade. Maybe they would fight over manga or magazines, maybe they would use each other’s stuff without asking for permission, get upset with each other, punch each other, get scolded.

Maybe he could have actually had a brother.

It had felt like an eternity, but when he reluctantly opened his eyes and looked at the clock, Youngjae came to the realisation that only a bit more than an hour had passed. His body was screaming at him to lie down and close his eyes again, but instead he forced it up into the nearby chair at the dining table. One thing about living on your own was that no one cared if you dragged your futon into your living room to not have to bother with walking around too much. From plastic containers he removed four pills -- two antidepressants and two painkillers, and without even bothering to fetch a glass of water he easily swallowed them. He didn’t particularly want to eat anything right now, but he also knew how much the pills upset his stomach if he didn’t have anything in it, and thus with heavy footsteps he made it over to the kitchen to open a slightly spotted banana -- as long as the insides were alright frankly he couldn’t care less.

It would be fine. He was going to be fine.