#keni.

life begins with two parents on the brink of separation, choosing to stay together only for the child they have on the way. no part of them believes becoming parents will fix things, but they try anyway. for the first few years of kenneth's life they barley speak to each other. the atmosphere is cold, and a young keni notices. he notices everything — the patterns, the inconsistency, structures, and habits. he's barley a year old when he's first sat in front of a piano, small hands smashing into keys haphazardly. by three, he's a little more careful. by five, he can listen to a short snippet of a song and roughly play it back on the piano, note by note. a rare talent were the words his father used then . . . but his vow was to make his son exceptional. no matter the cost. it's no surprise to anyone when his parents announce their split. he's eight, expecting to live with his mother full-time. but she kisses his cheek, insists it's better if he stays with his father. says that he can provide him more stability. a year later she meets someone new, falls in love, and has two more children. she seems happy. jin-ho on the other hand is miserable, struggling to keep up with bills now he's alone. but he has his son. a marvel. a genius. a prodigy. over the next few years, keni is trying to keep himself upright even with all the pressure placed on his shoulders. not only is he expected to excel in school, he's made to practise every day for hours on end. by the time he's a teenager, the piano isn't just an instrument, its a battleground. his father, jin-ho, hovers over him like a hawk, monitoring every practice, pointing our every minor imperfection. punishment for failures are harsh. hours in isolation staring at a blank wall, a close fist, words designed to break a person down so they can be moulded to your ideal. keni plays the piano, but he also plays the part. learns the subtle art of mischief along the way. a purposeful wrong note here, a sarcastic glance there. he knows better than to be openly defiant, but little cracks in compliance are his form of quiet protest. it isn't long before he's traveling, showing off his talent, booking jobs most in his field can only dream of. he's fully thrust into the spotlight of the classical world, and as exciting as life is supposed to be, it never feels like his. he misses being a dumb teenager, messing around with his friends. he makes as much time for it as he can, but eventually it all slips away like it was never even there. he's twenty-five when the pressure finally causes him to snap. months of constant scrutiny, endless expectations, and the suffocating perfectionism imposed by his father result in a breakdown that unfortunately happens whilst he's one stage. he's encouraged to start therapy, but opts for pills instead. not quite ready to dive in deep. but he makes changes. starts with cutting off his father, going full no-contact, stopping all forms of cash flow. he’s having fun in life again. only takes only the jobs that fuel his passion for the instrument he was born to play, cracks jokes at the most inappropriate moments, and dabbles in odd projects between pieces. but healing isn't always easy, sometimes it means fucking up. making your own mistakes. those who don't know him well are often under the impression that he's a very serious person . . . he is not. but he knows when he has to be, and can slip between two moods a little too easily. despite living under his fathers regime for so long, or perhaps because of it, he struggles with strict rule or authority and will rebel against it in any way he can. video games are a form of escape, or so he thinks . . . really it just brings out his competitiveness and has him arguing over voice chat for hours on end. he enjoys tinkering with electronics . . . drones, synthesizers, old radios, anything that can be hacked or modified. he loves late nights, finding his creativity flows most then. and it's perhaps the time he feels most himself. he loves to learn new things, to master anything he does.