Despite being born and raised in America, Jaeminâs previously traditional beliefs shone through in his very Korean upbringing. Hailing from North Korea, his parents barely escaped with their lives after their recklessness got his mother, Yongsun, pregnant out of wedlock, which in turn brought shame to their respective families. She was now impure, and Taeyong, Jaeminâs father, made it abundantly clear that no man would want her now but him. She wasnât safe anymore, with or without him. And so, she had no choice but to follow, even long after Taeyongâs thin veil of false humanity had lifted. After many trials, they arrived in Greensville, North Carolina, where they planned to expand their family. Or at least, where Taeyong intended to. But Yongsun felt trapped. She was indebted to Taeyong, a man who had taken to terrorizing every day, who raised his hand to her even when she was carrying their son. A who took advantage of her vulnerability. If she left him, she had nothing, or so she believed. She was bound to him, bound to this monster.
She had hoped things would change when Jaemin was born, but the undigested resentment she felt for her now-husband only transferred to their newborn son. Innocent, fragile, weak, but all she felt for him was unadulterated hatred. She fell into a post-partum depression shortly after, and hasnât been the same since. Taeyong instantly took to being a father, taking care of little Jaemin in ways Yongsun simply couldnât. He saw in his baby boy a chance to mold the perfect son, to make him into someone he could be proud of. A younger, maybe even better version of himself. He passed down to him everything he knew, from lessons about perseverance to his own backwards beliefs, whether they regarding homosexuality, equal rights, etc. But as Min grew older, it became evidently clear that he wasnât going to be easily swayed into submission, not without a fight. He was rebellious by nature, a troublemaker. Whether it be by hiding to give his mother a fright as a toddler, or running away from home as a teenager. His sharp wit and defiant nature got him into a lot of trouble as a child, in and out of home. But, surprisingly, the first time Taeyong lay a hand on him wasnât due to any sort of troublesome behaviour.
He was so young, only five at the time, as he watched a Korean television program with his father. That memory is nothing but a blur to him now, buried in the deepest, most shameful parts of himself. He sat on the ground while his father hardly paid any attention to either him or the tv show, but Jaemin was hypnotized. Not by the story, nor by the soundtrack (which he had a tendency to be), but for the dramaâs male lead. He couldnât stop thinking about how handsome the man was, and let it slip in an awed whisper to himself. The words had only just left his mouth that his fatherâs hand smacked the back of his head, the force throwing the little boy forward to fall flat on his face. âMan shall not lay with manâ, that roar remains ingrained in his memory, although the incident itself isnât. And Yongsun? The moment her son burst into sobs and collapsed onto the floor was the exact moment she stopped viewing him as nothing more but a byproduct of her tormentor: Jaemin was a victim, not a perpetrator. He wasnât his father, and she ought to be protecting him. As he held the back of his head, tears stinging in his eyes, all she could do was stand back and watch, but something snapped within her. From that day onward, she was never too far, taking the fall for his misconduct behind closed doors, attempting to appeal to her husband in any way she could. But she still didnât give Jaemin what he truly needed; love. No one could.
A lot of expectations were riding on little Jaemin. From a young age, he was told heâd carry the family tradition and become a doctor, just like his father had, and his grandfather and the one before him. There was no room for error, Taeyong had been very strict in reminding him, and so he helped build him intothe son heâd always dreamed of. He was that kid that was enrolled in practically every extracurricular activity at school, the one other parents fawned over. By age 16, Moon had already earned his black belt in taekwondo, taken up football, basketball, soccer, french lessons (which were later abandoned) and excelled at the piano. He wasnât naturally gifted, but the hard work and dedication he put into bettering himself paid off. Yet, no matter how much his teachers and coaches applauded him, it rolled off his back. The only praise he ever sought in his life and the one he cruelly never got was his fatherâs. It was never enough for him.
It wasnât enough that Jaemin had forged his entire life to mimic his fatherâs, that he was playing the diligent son or that he passed his classes with flying colors. He desperately wanted his approval, went as far as to lead a double life. There was the well-mannered Jaemin he portrayed himself to be for his father: calm, collected, polite. But that still wasnât enough. Then, there was the real Jaemin: sarcastic, loudmouth, competitive. Downright despicable. You could find that Jaemin partying any given day, drowning himself in nameless women, drugs and booze. With his flawed vision of the world, he made a lot of enemies in his lifetime. Heâs hated by most, feared by some. Heâs always been bitter, and he doesnât quite know why. Heâs so angry all the time, he craves to fight, to bleed, to hurt people, a scream constantly perched at the edge of his lips.
Now 21, that anger has gotten out of control. So much so that heâs started therapy, in an attempt to get down to the bottom of this. It wasnât his choice, rather his motherâs idea (which she had to plead Taeyong to even consider accepting), but he never wouldâve expected it to change his life the way it has. Heâs not a changed man by all means, but his walls are crumbling down little by little, forcing him to realize just how empty he feels inside. To look himself in the mirror for who he truly is. To question himself and his identity, something he never thought to do before. All that work has left him more vulnerable than heâs ever been. But heâs working towards the truth. His truth. A truth heâs yet to even begin to face. Jaemin is gay, and his entire life has been a lie, a lie that has been swallowing him whole and extinguishing his inner light. Heâs the lowest heâs ever been, nothing he used to love brings him any real pleasure, anymore. Yet, his road to self-discovery, one paved with hardships, has only just begun.
