Winter was slowly approaching. The climate of Seoul brought with it much harsher temperatures than what he was used to back in Tokyo. Christmas is a season of love -- or so they said. A time of love, and family, and friendship.
‘Are you going back to Japan during the holiday?’
“No.”
‘Won’t your family miss you? Your parents don’t live here do they?’
“They don’t.”
He never really had talked much about his family, had he? Not after moving to Seoul and starting his life as Choi Youngjae at least. Even the name still felt foreign to him -- his legal name it might be, but it had no relation to the person he had been through his entire life. One day he might come to embrace it as a part of himself, as his identity, but did he even really know who he was right now? An existence that wasn’t socially accepted in his home country, struggling to gain approval in his land of origin.
He wanted approval. He needed approval. For if Yamauchi Takashi was gone, how was he supposed to gain a self if people didn’t acknowledge him?
They didn’t understand, the nosy classmates, the talkative girl sitting next to him who wouldn’t stop badgering him about it all. Telling him that now of all times was when he was supposed to go see those close to him, maybe even make amends if things were tough.
She didn’t understand; she couldn’t understand. There were simply no amends to be made. Usually people wouldn’t pry too much when he told them that he didn’t have any ties to his family in Japan. Usually people weren’t this stubborn about it all. But it wasn’t like he couldn’t counter such people.
“They won’t miss me. The dead can’t miss anyone.”
An actor he could have been from the simple expression full of displeasure that flared up on his face. He was such a liar. His words were lies. His emotions were lies. His entire existence was a lie.
But it worked. He felt disgusting for the face she met her with, pure pity and guilt for pressuring in such a way. But that was just the way it had to be. There was too much at stake, the entire life he was trying to build up for himself could so easily collapse, and he would rather become a filthy liar than lose everything.
That night he dreamt of the past.
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.
He had to be or there would have been no point in tossing everything away.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Creativity 3
Creativity is finding a way to make unchanged pieces of the puzzle; fit in other parts of it; than originally thought of.
(C)BJG(Blair Gaulton)Oct 2015