want to post a couple of self-paragraphs or share your character's inner thoughts? this is the place to do it! feel free to use this room to explore your character's voice. let your creativity run wild!
when midam came to the broadcast station that week, he didn't expect his producer to greet him with a gift basket of vitamins, energy drinks and all sorts of health supplements. his first thought was to look outside the window and check for signs of pigs having gained access to flight. when confirming that wasn't the case, the rookie meteorologist deduced what the catch was.
and as foolish as he may be (at times), he wasn't dense enough to ask bluntly. had he done so, he'd be back in his apartment staring at the geospatial maps from a 12 inch monitor instead of the widescreen's interactive maps at the broadcast station. working here was frankly the opportunity of a lifetime, and midam also had a knack for mentally whittling down his bureaucratic superiors little by little.
atleast that's what he believed.
"is everyone getting this for the upcoming winter, pd-nim? if so i could have prepared something for you too! my father collaborates on r&d with this health and wellness company for research you see so i could y'know hook you guys up with some quality seamoss." they had sent one too many crates to his parents house, this was simply a ploy to get rid of all of them.
"r-really?" the producer squeaks before clearing his throat, "ahem i mean, i appreciate the thought midam but this has to do with an upcoming project we want you to do."
"oh? what is it?"
"well, while our region does not experience heavy snow- there have been reports of a coming snowstorm in the gangwon province. we want you to travel there and report on the snowstorm live. there have been predictions of thunderstorms too, so it may be a phenomenon to witness. hence the supplements, pre-emptive measures-"
"i'll do it."
"you see, and you're the only young meteorologist we have so, huh? you said you'll go?"
"are you crazy? i'm not missing this chance for the life of me! you didn't have to /bribe/ me for it, i'll start packing today!"
and so in less than a week, yoon midam arrived to gangwondo on a high speed rail. that would be the last train to arrive and leave until the snow would calm down, and it very well seemed as though he would be stranded there with the camera crew until things situated.
"hyung make sure you really protect yourself in the snow okay?" he tells the sole cameraman they assigned him for this trip. "when we're done filming i'll treat you to some kalguksu."
the snow had piled up so much that most roads were rendered unusable. thus the pair decided to not stray too far from their lodging. with the vastness of gangwon's countryside, and the backdrop of the towering snowcapped mountains, the picture of a fierce winter storm was easy to paint.
it takes some time to set up; the duo had simply checked into their lodging, trusting all their more unnecessary items with the concierge.
it was difficult to pick up what the live broadcast at gohyang was saying but from the snippets he could hear from his ear receiver, it would be their cue to go live at any minute. he gestured to the cameraman who went live at the count of three, hunching over and peering through the lens as snow pelted both himself and midam.
"good morning folks, if you cant tell from the heavy padded jacket i'm currently wearing, this is your favorite meteorologist yoon midam speaking. i'd wink at you all right now but unfortunately the snow could get into my eye."
"we're just lucky that it's not hail right?" he laughs, trying to ease the tension for any worried audience members. "the situation in gangwon is quite severe. residents have been advised to stay at home as temperatures drop significantly below zero and roads become closed for the ground conditions. while back home in gohyang there will be significantly less snow, please be cautious of icy roads and seek warmth when possible."
"this storm is expected to last atleast two days and due to the humidity, it may feel much colder than it is. such conditions may also give rise to a rare phenomenon called thundersno...w?" a flash of light peeked through the gray clouds, followed by a large rumbling sound.
"gon hyung did you hear that?" midam says, nearly forgetting that he was broadcasting live to gohyang as a childlike delight coveted his eyes. it happens again, this time the lightning is visible from his background, to which gon, the camera man shouts with glee.
"ya look behind you!" midams reflexes are faster, turning his back towards the camera to witness the phenomenon. "amazing!"
"everyone back at home witnessing this from your tv screens, i must say this is truly a sight to witness. such a rare phenomenon caught on camera and i must say it's an honor to have seen it in person."
"this is why i've become a meteorologist, it's to share moments like this with you all! that said, please stay safe this winter. this has been meteorologist yoon midam reporting live from gangwon."
"and cut!" gon shouts, going off live, the pelting snow had tired the older man who just wanted to rest in the lodging for the next few days until the storm cleared up. "ya, lets go get that kalguksu you promised. i want some sujebi too."
"you go first, i'm gonna take some shots of the thundersnow." midam mutters, pulling his phone camera out. his eyes were sparkling in place of the usual dark circles he had from early morning broadcasts.
"are you insane, thats dangerous!"
"i'll be fine, plus we should have enough time. i'll be back before sunset, hyung go warm up."
that day, yoon midam came back to the lodging well into the night. a shivering mess, but also a man with no regrets.
It had been one day since students were given their report cards, and Miyeon was so happy to finally be given a free day to enjoy by herself. All because she worked hard at getting good grades! She didn’t know much about other kids, but her parents said it was normal that kids only got days to play if their grades were perfect or close to it. Little Miyeon never really questioned that idea from her parents, as she was always taught that they knew what was best. It was okay if things were a little uncomfortable, at least she knew that she earned her freedom!
A wish her parents granted was a day where Miyeon could just navigate the public library by herself, without a nanny. Outside school hours, this was a dream come true since her nanny, as kind as the woman was, was too attached to Miyeon’s hip. The nine year old wanted some independence, and she earned some as a reward
She was, naturally, a little nervous entering the large library all alone. She wasn’t worried about intruders or criminals barging in, mostly because the security system was good and the guards outside were pretty big and could hold their own. She was more nervous because she was scared of making a mistake in the library without someone assisting her. It was a silly fear, especially since Miyeon was basically a full-grown lady at age nine, but it was still a fear. Maybe she could ask for help.
Unfortunately, she underestimated the height of those looming shelves, overflowing with knowledge untouched by her fingers and yet to be uncovered by her mind. She would uncover it as soon as her fingers could reach it, she was barely standing at 152cm (5 feet) at her grown age. The librarian, without making much of a fuss, had been watching little Miyeon just struggle. She was far too young to be aiming at the complex science and mathematics books on the higher shelves, to the point that the librarian, known around town as Ms. Byun or Haesoo, questioned her shelving methods and their heights.
Miyeon was tiptoeing, and doing her very best at it, just to reach a physics book with a pretty cover she wanted to pick up. If it fell on her, it would be too heavy a pull and could land on her head, injuring her. Haesoo chuckled, moving over to the eager-to-learn kid.
“If you can’t reach that science book on the top shelf, you can always call me or grab the stepping ladder, little girl.” she spoke, coming up beside Miyeon, her voice almost like a lullaby. Miyeon, who had been avoiding asking help from the librarian all afternoon, puffed out her cheeks thinking the action would hide the redness of them. The librarian knew, and she rarely met this type of kid. Or it’s been a while since she’s seen one in action. “Thank you, Ms. Librarian.” the little girl caved, giving her thanks as the thick science book was given to her.
The librarian still kept her grip on the thick reference source, though. Her cart was right behind her with some books that were to be sorted, and she almost pitied Miyeon. There was no reason for an elementary school student to /only/ be looking for high school and college level books at a library like Gohyang’s. What were her parents making her read at home? She thought, pulling back the science book and tucking it under her arm.
“You can call me Ms. Haesoo, okay? What do I call you?”
“Mang– Mra– Rang Miyeon, Ms. Haesoo.” she whispered, blinking at the science book being taken from her. The kid stumbling at the pronunciation of her own name was endearing; she hoped the girl’s parents wouldn't scold her for misspeaking if they were here. But it looked like Miyeon was alone.
Turning around quickly, she grabbed a thinner and more approachable book from the sorting cart. The physics book would not be within reach of Miyeon, she needed to enjoy herself while reading. Haesoo could only hope Miyeon’s parents weren’t drilling her to be an academic weapon. It was a sad fate for a child. “Here, try this book instead of that one. You might enjoy this more. It’s fantasy fiction. Full of kings, queens, and talking lions.”
There was an unfamiliar tingle in Miyeon’s hands as she held the lighter book, it was an older edition of C.S. Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. She grinned at the cover, hand drawn with children riding a lion, and goat-footed creatures surrounding them. The last time she held books like this were in kindergarten, those being more juvenile and she barely remembered them anyways.
“Since you’re reading a book like that, I think we should match it a little to keep it fun, right? You can call me Lady Haesoo and, if it’s alright with you, I can call you something fancy too?”
“What about Princess Miyeon?” the little girl chirped, hugging the book to her chest like it was her greatest possession. The librarian was all kinds of nice, and she had only just met her. She ignored her mother’s voice in her mind, the one that implied that people were always out to use Miyeon for selfish needs. This nice older lady in front of her was giving her a book and a fantasy world to step in, without payment.
“Yes! What about Princess Miyeon? I never get called Princess at home, I know other girls my age hear it.” Hearing that slight disappointment in a child’s voice almost had Haesoo choke up a little, but she squatted down with a smile and carefully took Miyeon’s hand. The librarian was on the older side, and she hadn’t seen her kids in a while. They were on good terms, it’s just that they were adults with their own families. This sweet and curious girl wandering into her library reignited life into the middle-aged librarian. “That’s perfect, you’d make a great Princess, your Highness. You can pick a table anywhere, I’ll just be at the desk, okay? Wave to me like a proper lady to summon me.”
Her mother always said it was rude for children to hug people, even people who were kind to them. But Miyeon immediately hugged Haesoo, or now carved in her memory as Lady Haesoo, before speed-walking to the closest table to read her first fantasy novel. It was a fantastical world she could now better understand with her bigger vocabulary, a world she could fall into with her new friend, the librarian.
“Ah, this is going to mess up my posting schedule.” Doyoon let out a croak instead of his normal voice, as the nearby nurse frowned at him looking at his phone screen.
“Sir,” the very recently injured university student looked up from his YouTube creators page at the sound of the middle aged woman’s voice. He was not expecting the actual light slap on his wrist and his expressive-by-default face showed sheepishness. “Please don’t speak or lean your head down. You’re wearing a neck brace. I will take your phone away unless you only look at it while on your back. Got it?”
Older nurses were always scary, yet somehow so inspiring. Doyoon was sure they had dealt with so many more annoying patients, more annoying than him. But he /was/ being a bit of a menace, especially since he apparently had really bad upper-half mobility, something about severe whiplash. She hasn’t said anything about his dislocated shoulder but he knew he’d get a scolding again if he overexerted himself. “Yes, ma’am. Sorry.”
This hospital injury could be, by itself, a very good story to put online. Oddly meta since it actually happened because of a stunt he really was going to do online, one involving a car, wires, a plank of wood, and a skateboard he modified himself. None of it was guaranteed safe, but neither were half his stunts and this was his first injury after already being a somewhat successful online influencer. He sat in his hospital bed, hearing the muffled noise of busy-ness around him as he was in an empty area of the Hongik Hospital emergency room. The doctor assigned to him, also the one who handled him as he was being rolled in on the stretcher, swiped the curtain open with a smile at Doyoon’s state. He was comparatively better than the bruises and broken bones that was coming in an hour earlier. “Hello, Mr. Cha. I don’t know if you heard my name while I was mending you, you were a bit out of it from the pain – I’m Dr. Hong.”
Doyoon gave his proper greetings to the older guy as the doctor looked through his clipboard while quickly eyeing the cast and neck brace Doyoon was in. His left hand was out for the count for the next few months, he knew that. He was glad that he had already finished a lot of his practical design classes, with only two left and the rest are possible to be taken online.
“I saw that you’re a student in Hongik University nearby, welcome. Some of their med students do their clerkship here … anyways, we called your parents. Sorry if that was a bit invasive, but your father was easy to get a hold of with your phone contacts. He’ll be coming from abroad, give or take a few hours.” Doyoon nodded, he and his dad were always in contact since he left the home of his mother in Seoul to just stay at university. His dad had told him a week earlier that he’d be in Japan, excited to get some anime merch for his son, and possibly a few wigs at Doyoon’s request.
“That’s alright, Doc – wait. You said parents? Like parent in plural?” He immediately regretted putting his mother’s contact information in his student forms even if it was a requirement. His father’s name on his contact list was Dad but his mother was just her legal name. Nothing special, but if the doctor had spoken to his school there was a chance he could have called his mother in too. Curses, he thought.
Dr. Hong just nodded, not finding Doyoon’s slightly panicked expression as out of the ordinary. Most young men would be worried about their parents scolding them after a hospital-deserving injury. Doyoon’s case was less common and even lesser known to the public, he hated his mother and she was indifferent to him, only caring for him as a slight obligation until he was old enough to leave. “Yes, Mr. Cha. Your mother is coming soon as she is closer. I will be back within the hour to check on you.”
“Thank you, Doctor Hong …” Doyoon waited until the doctor left fully and was out of earshot before cursing to himself.
––––––
1 Hour Later.
It was like an alien had entered his room. Doyoon was thankfully moved to a small solo room, his father was quick to send money while he was preparing his flight from Japan back to Korea. The alien in question was the other parent. The other half of Doyoon’s genes that he was very eager to forget. This woman that was sitting by his bed, carrying a big lunch box full of food that Doyoon used to like as a kid, was not his mother. She was far too kind and far too … involved.
“Who are you? Where’s Dohwan?” Doyoon wasn’t speaking for a full 30 minutes, only talking then. When she entered, the older Cha brother only nodded as a barely polite acknowledgement of her being there. It felt almost unsettling seeing her deceivingly sweet smile while she unpacked all that homemade food for him. It was probably takeout, and she probably wanted something.
“Oh, don’t say that, Doyoon. It’s still me, your mom!” The hairs all over his body stood up, it was chilling seeing her act so fake. “And Dohwan’s still at his after school academy. He’s coming by soon, he was so worried when I told him.”
Doyoon shut his eyes, jaw clenched for a moment before saying what he really wanted to say. There was no filter between him and his egg donor since they both silently agreed their relationship was dead. More dead since he became a legal adult. “What do you want.”
“Your father and I have been – bonding – recently and, I just wanted us to be a family. Again.” Her happier demeanor melted away quickly, like ice dropping into hot water, all from Doyoon’s straightforward question. He had absolutely no reason to believe her, not when his father never mentioned her once. They told each other almost everything, and bringing back the woman who cheated on him and kept the child she birthed from that affair would be a little important to share between father and son.
If Doyoon could cross his arms to show annoyance, he would, but he was in a cast on one side. “Please leave. Just let Dohwan in, he can sleep here if he wants. You can go home and … rest from making all this food. I’m not hungry.”
“Doyoon, honey, I just wanted you back – some help around the house would be good and –”
“GET OUT!” Doyoon rarely raised his voice to anyone, and if he did it was out of jest and never anger. He was never seen angry, not at full blast, until today.
His mother promptly left without a word, packing everything up as commanded by her oldest son and stepped out. She kept her composure outside the door to save face. Doyoon should have gotten the hint when she said ‘some help around the house would be good’ at the time, but he was too overwhelmed with silent burning anger that he missed it. His father eventually revealed to Doyoon as he was caring for him in the hospital (along with his brother Dohwan) that his mother was in debt.
There was no chance the two Cha men, both loyal and admirably loving to each other, were going to fall for the charms of that woman again. Doyoon’s father knew within minutes that his ex-wife was trying to get money out of him by acting nice and using their history as leverage, and his son already had suspicions at her first visit. The apple didn't fall far from the tree.
Taeyang had always been very excited switching around his two homes. It was like a separation for his time that was far more intense than school versus summer vacation. They were in close proximity with each other, both situated within Gohyang. This was back then when it was still a town, before promotion to a small city under his administration. Back then, so far back that it could be counted as one of his earliest memories, Taeyang had the privilege of staying with his retired maternal grandparents at their small farm for half the year, the rest with his parents closer to the populous areas. They were a couple that never really had a political reputation to uphold, but they were beloved among the townspeople and known as upstanding citizens. It was no surprised that those two produced Taeyang’s mother, a sweet and loving figure in his life.
Even as a child, he understood that his parents were from two very different worlds growing up, but it was a beautiful miracle that they fell in love and have never faltered in it since. While helping his grandfather tend to some herbs behind the house, a small Taeyang listened with full focus as his grandfather talked about his son-in-law (Taeyang’s father, the eventual mayor of the town) and how he was actually a troublemaker and that he was lucky Taeyang’s paternal grandfather set him back straight. There was always comparison between Taeyang and his dad, even if it was a compliment.
”You’d be such a wonderful mayor, Taetae. You’re softer and friendlier than your dad at this age. He was always causing trouble, yet you stay out of it.” the elderly man said with wrinkles moving around his kind eyes. He was much younger at this time, and in typical grandchild fashion, Taeyang had always seen him as an old man. Because of this, it was a mild shock to the young boy when his grandpa, Min Younghoon, passed away a few years later.
His mother accepted her father’s death, knowing that he would be going at some point since she wasn’t getting any younger. Taeyang was happy to comfort his grieving grandmother at the funeral. She was less sad and more relieved at her husband’s passing. There was a lot of pain, the emotional not physical type, his grandpa never revealed. Grandpa Hoon was, eternally, a wonderful old man and an excellent gardener to his only grandson.
Taeyang’s deep-running love for gardening and agriculture came from his grandfather. They spent warm and humid, but too short, days in the fields and greenhouse. His mother’s parents sustained themselves and Grandpa passed away not with a bang, but like a quiet stream of water. It was a fulfilling life that Taeyang wished he could live.
By the time of his grandfather’s passing, he thought he still had the chance to live this life. He wasn’t aware how important his father’s family was and that he wouldn’t have much of a choice for his adult life.
2006. Sixteen Years Old.
The student body president, the top student in his year, close to perfect grades, well-liked by his classmates and their parents. Jang Taeyang was the closest Gohyang had to a celebrity, a golden boy in other terms. Everyone thought he was both untouchable and approachable, a seemingly impossible feat for most adults, let alone a teenage boy. A reputation like this didn’t come easy to most. It wasn’t easy for Taeyang either. He was in fact a people person and a great problem solver, but that wasn’t enough to satisfy the wishes Taeyang thought his father wanted for him.
Only a few months of him turning sixteen, his father finally solidified what he wished for Taeyang: to become mayor. It wasn’t much of a shock for the student, he already knew that’s what his father wanted for him. To the point that Taeyang put it upon himself to be a model student and a beloved kid in town ‘just in case.’
A while after his maternal grandfather was buried, he overheard his parents and the remainder of his grandparents talking in closed quarters late at night. It was about Taeyang’s future, a political one but all for the good of the town. There were some regrets that his parents didn’t give him a younger sibling, that Taeyang was the oldest /and/ the only son who could take up this mantle. His grandmother pitied him, seeing her late husband’s passion for botany in her grandson. He overheard this conversation when he was 9 years old, a year after his grandfather’s passing.
It turns out his parents were just waiting to see if Taeyang alone could be responsible without any pressure of being told to be the mayor. They were right, Taeyang was responsible, studious, and had the makings of a proper public servant. He was responsible for it all. it was also his fault for doing so well as a student, when he could have acted out rebelliously. If he had known that being a bad student and bad kid (so far from his nature as a person that it had to be acted out on purpose), he could have escaped. He would have been freed, but at the same time he loved his family and couldn’t disappoint them.
He hated being worthy of the title of potential future mayor, elected or not, for years.
the firm had been empty of employee ever since the clock ticked nine, leaving segye and her older sister-in-law, seori. she apologised to seori once a while as she wrapped up her work. they had promised to get dinner together, seori relaying to segye that she had something to say. with a sigh, the vice president of the firm shut her computer down and headed to the meeting table to tidy things up. "i'll put this away then we can go. i'm really sorry, eonni. maybe we can go get beer or —"
"segye. . .we should stop."
the architect paused from rolling up her blueprints. she glanced at the older sister of her late husband before resuming to roll the blueprints together. the helplessness present in the older woman's eyes was undeniable. park seori has given up. out of all the people who had stood by her during seohae's trials, seori had been steadfast even as others had fell out as they think this was an impossible fight. a huge medical centre against a mere citizen with little power to invest in a long war? a lump manifested in the base of , dread quickly claiming her heart. was she truly all alone now?
segye moved to the shelves attached to the wall, carefully tucking the blueprints into its original place. "we'll find another lawyer, seori," she murmured in reassurance, yet she could barely convince herself. "we can talk about this later."
the younger could not bare to look at seori as she insisted, "mother said we've done enough." segye shook her head, willing for the words to leave no traces on her heart. she can't have her resolve sway. not now. "you've spent all your money for trials and lawyers. seohae would not have wanted that!"
"i'm sorry but please—!" segye whipped around, tears threatening to fall despite the fierce, angry lines that painted her face. what would they know whether he had wanted it or not? he is gone, segye quipped back silently in bitterness. she couldn't possibly give up on seohae. not when she knows seohae would not give up on her if it was he was in her place. however, she can't deny there is truth in seori's words.
for a year and a half, she has been running around meeting lawyers and trying to bring justice to the loss of her beloved soul. she spiralled into the worst of her habits, and has lost money to book lawyers with high rates of winning only to be told they could not proceed with the case anymore, half-way through. if seohae could see the condition she is in now. . .the man, with patience that normally knows no bounds, would truly be mad at her. "i still can't give up."
a heavy exhale left seori's lips before she begged the younger, "segye. . .we should let him go, now."
segye walked to her desk, biting the inner side of her cheeks while she gripped hard on the edge of the table. "let's have dinner together another time, eonni," she told the other, voice trembling. she sat back down on her chair and turning the computer once more. "i forgot i had a design i need to finish."
when segye didn't seemed to have the slightest bit of intentions to move from her seat, seori muttered a goodbye and left segye to her own device. it was only five minutes after seori left, and heavy silence enveloped the lone figure of segye, did her face find solace into her hands. one second then two. . .soft sobs began to fill the quiet space of the office.
His doctor kept scolding him whenever he found out that Dongwoo, the present-day fire captain of Gohyang, would drink only within hours of taking his medicines. At some point Dongwoo had to admit that he skipped his meds for weeks on end. A depression diagnosis and more a financial and time-consuming burden to him. He thought he could survive without medication, while he self-medicated with alcohol at a dangerous level. It would only be a little over two years later that he would get promoted. That future Dongwoo was never a seed planted in his mind, it was never a person in his imagination that he aspired to. In all honesty, he couldn’t even see the future and had no intention of going past a few years. A quick death would be easy, but a messy clean up. Drinking himself to death would be easier, at least whatever remains of his immediate family would expect it. He’d die in a hospital bed in the emergency room instead of an arbitrary place he chose to go in.
He should never have been a fireman, things could have been different if he actually entered into music. Maybe then his family wouldn’t have had enough money to go to that vacation in Seoul and afford that museum ticket. Maybe his wife and children would have been alive if he had chosen a different career with a little less income. There was no reason for him to remain a fireman now because he couldn’t even protect his own family from the thing he had trained to wipe out.
These thoughts ran through his head every single day, and the drinking would numb it out. He’s always been the athletic one in the family, a surprising thing people find out because they all can’t merge the trope of the healthy jock and the passionate musician. It was more common than the public thought since health was needed to maintain a musician’s voice and performance stamina. Now his health was basically pointless. Dongwoo would choose to do the bare minimum to do his job when sober to keep the lights on, his lack of purpose as loud as a lightning crack whenever he stepped into his empty home. He wasn’t a musician, so no reason to devote himself to his craft and health. He had no passionate drive to be a fireman, his family didn’t exist for him to provide for. At most he’d earn money to buy more alcohol, but it looked like the bartender at the local pub was eyeing him to stop. He always eyed Dongwoo to stop, but the bartender looked away suddenly and Dongwoo did the same.
His hearing was muffled by Dongwoo himself, the alcohol in his system buzzing through his veins and he couldn’t feel anything. This was nice. Nicer than the numbness of depression with its screaming theatrical companion, psychiatrists call PTSD. He was about to raise his hand for another bottle of soju, extra strong, when the bartender refused after setting the phone receiver down. The drunk fireman’s vision was already a little blurry, but the sound of a phone receiver settling in its slot meant that the bartender called his family. His parents and his former in-laws were definitely coming to pick him up. If his dad’s lucky to catch an appointment or active call answer, his younger brother would be coming too.
Dongwoo could only assume that at the moment since the bartender never refused him before. Guess he couldn’t stand Dongwoo drinking himself to unconsciousness every other weekend now either, even if it messed with the income of the local pub.
- 4 months before Seoyun applied for an internship at the Gohyang government team.
"Are you sure?"
Seoyun shook her head. Her best friend was lying next to her on her bed, her eyebrows raised as much as it could below her facial mask in concern. It was one of their biweekly sleepovers and that night, it was at the Cho family home.
Tonight, however, the energy was a tad bit more tense than their usual energetically hyped-up sleepovers and the only reason for that was the fact that Seoyun had just revealed her chosen place of internship — the very place that her older brother was working at. Her older brother being the one person that Seoyun was constantly being compared to and evaluated against by their parents.
"You do realize that your life is going to become even more difficult if you intern there, right?" Her best friend's voice dropped into a whisper. "Your parents are going to become even worse! They'll have even more to compare you two with." She reached over to pat Seoyun's arm as she adjusted her mask which was starting to slip from how much she was talking. "You're crazy for this, girl!"
"I know but it's also the one chance I'd get to show our parents that I can do so much more than they think. It's the one chance I have to show them that I'm also someone to be proud of, and not just my brother." Seoyun sighed.
"But-"
"It's alright, I know what I'm doing. Don't worry about me."
The conversation ended as the timer for their facial mask went off.
It was like an unknowing flowering plant was forced to survive in snow. It had hopes and dreams of blooming in a new environment, but that environment did nothing but kill her – its essence. That’s how Miyeon felt, cringing at the thought since at times her mother would call her her little flower when parading her around when she was still a teenager. The perfect oldest daughter, swept out of her hometown thinking that Seoul would be an exciting and fast-paced career booster for her. It was only one of those three things, but overall it was hell.
After Junho successfully spread the rumors, he no longer needed to actively continue them. His friends had stopped because they all got bored and moved on to the next novel act of cruelty within their friend group. Miyeon was left in the dust to try and salvage what was left of her reputation. She had at least graduated, with great grades on her record in fact, along with some recommendations from her professors and extracurricular advisors. They knew Miyeon better than the ones believing in the rumors, but Junho’s friends had left such a dark stain on her “moral image” that it was almost useless. Any job Miyeon applied for required her name and credentials. If there was anyone in the possible employers company from her recent alma mater, they would find out that she was, falsely, far too “promiscuous” to be attached to the company. Bull. It was bull, but her ex-boyfriend's smear tactics were carried out by a powerful group of disgusting men. Miyeon was stuck job hunting and only just job hunting in Seoul. Any company needing her expertise turned her away for one reason, and it wasn’t her (amazing) grades as a fresh graduate. Not a single internship or a final interview, nothing.
At this point she just wanted to go home. It was exhausting even just calling her parents to ask for more money to pay for her rent at her small Seoul apartment, and more if she was just talking to her mother who recently dismissed her after she admitted what her ex did. Miyeon was tired, all the joyful and bright and once enthusiastic energy was gone and her negative qualities that were rarely seen back then were so much more pronounced now. Her way with words, once used to compliment people with such disarming sweetness, was being used in annoyance. Gentle insults and visible annoyance would come more easily since it was now paired with her irritability and exhaustion. She had no job, her shallower friends abandoned her for her negative social capital, and her reputation in Seoul would be tarnished for the next few years. All she wanted was to be back home, where she would be cared for by people she knew and appreciated as herself.
Miyeon wasn’t truly herself though, one would need to chip away the thick cement she had now built to protect herself. The original Miyeon was there somewhere, far too deep for anyone to reach if they were a newcomer in her life.
She sat on the bus traveling back to Gohyang, choosing the seat at the very back on the right. It was the same seat she took on her first solo trip to Seoul, her first year of university. Being far back in the bus with almost no people on it that time, she put on her headphones, ducked her head down, and cried for a third of the 5-hour bus trip.
Love is homesickness, a wise person once said. It was not really a sentiment that Taeyang understood or resonated with until he was a few years into adulthood. Love was longing, the tension coming from being separated from your roots. He had no idea how deep his roots ran until he was out of Gohyang for almost a full six years. The then-future-mayor believed it would be easy, being so far from home for university and then straight into the military. As life continues to do so, it shocked him with how much longing he felt. It may have been a lone person he loved, or his parents, his childhood home, the Gohyang citizens or just the air and environment of the place. He missed it all that he almost regretted his decision to enlist in the military right after university. The most time he’d had at home was the few weeks of “summer vacation” during his studies and the rare visit as a military man.
Taeyang thought about his home every single day, especially during early training in his enlistment period. His (his father’s) approved plan of finishing things outside of Gohyang as soon as possible so that he could run for mayor in time for the next elections was strategic, but his soul ached. His body screamed for a pause, his muscles burned and nearly snapped from the extreme exercise and discipline they’re put through. For the first few months being in the military, Taeyang cried himself to sleep at night. His roommates and troop mates were all the same, and it was so much worse because he hadn’t been home for so long. The day he was finally discharged was one of the best days of his life, third place to the first day he bought himself a sponge cake with his own money and his parents hugging him together when he arrived home from his first day of middle school. It was high up there just on feelings of relief alone.
With his baby face remaining almost the same, though a little more sculpted than normal, and his body being so much more toned and buff, Jang Taeyang the adored son of the previous mayor, was close to unrecognizable. Just as handsome as he always was, but he now looked closer to the man of the house finally coming home. Taeyang finally came home, a spitting image of his father when he was his age. His return wasn’t celebrated, the young Jang didn’t want a spectacle of himself, only his parents and close friends knew.
A few older citizens were shocked as they realized who the ‘new young stranger’ was, actually walking along the Gohyang streets like he memorized them. Taeyang did, and one day he was going to improve them just as his father did.
A lot of pressure of course, but he finally welcomed it when he realized how integral his home was to his character.
seoul. a city that never sleeps. the capital remained teeming with people during the night, bursting with life and a kaleidoscope of neon lights, even as it grew older. voices of laughter, annoyed chatters, resigned sighs, and the honking of vehicles mingled in the air; the seventeen year old son yiahn fidgeted as he cranked the volume of soothing ambient crooning from his bluetooth earphones up. decked in all black and a cap lowered to cover half of his face, yiahn stood in the midst of seoulites waiting for the pedestrian traffic light to turn green.
under guise of him surveying for potential universities to look for in seoul with his. . .classmates, yiahn had managed to book bus tickets. the disinterested look in his aunt's features were expected: why survey universities when surely, they—him in particular—should be aiming for the best?
"location matters, i haven't been to seoul for a while," yiahn had relayed as a matter-of-fact. with a soulless wave, he was dismissed afterwards.
he had not lied, though. he offered the bus tickets to classmates that needed it, be a shadow as they surveyed universities and had taken them to places within seoul. yet he did not return with them.
yiahn dropped by his uncle's entertainment company—they did not let him in, of course, despite having managed to breech until his uncle's secretary desk—casually dropping a closed note to notify that his nephew had visited. then he contacted the reporter that had reached out to him, countless of times, to say that he was now in seoul.
he was burning in spite towards his uncle and aunt. he was burning in desperate need to gain a life he could proudly live for. he was burning in fury at how many years they've used him as a blackmailing tool—to make sure they maintained the life that they wanted. not a single thought for him. so, he took a lesson from their books.
if things were to spill out, would he be able to build himself an entirely new name, new identity, new life, in the aftermath?
the light changed to green and yiahn felt people brushing against his side as they moved to cross the road. son yiahn took one step, noticing the reporter sitting down near the window within the café he had promised for their meeting location. yiahn took another step, pausing as he felt as if he was missing something. no. . .someone.
his little sisters are now part of this equation. what would the scandal do to them? he was sure it would be nothing good. the bond he had built with them. . .he was also sure it could go down to ashes. yiahn let out a frustrated sigh, eyeing the green light as it blinked and the alarm ringing in his ears. what was he to do?
it was then that he received the news, his phone buzzing and texts were continuously chiming in: rang miyeon had disappeared.
without thinking twice, yiahn turned around and headed to the bus station. thoughts of his "cousin" accompany him along the way home. yes, it was for the best he did not reveal that he is the child of byun gunwoo, a ceo of kd entertainment, and choi sora, a retired actress and announcer.
areum, for the lack of better word, has a particular hatred when it comes to the sea.
as ignorant at the age of seven, the girl in her overalls and pigtails is led to believe that such largest body of water’s deepness a tad taller than father chae, probably both to not let the small child wander close han river whenever she’s on her way from school to home and to let herself reject invitations of kids around her age to have a dip on the water out of curiosity. it works perfectly, knowing that — in comparison — areum could make four dresses in one of father’s pants, two for each leg; the fear of word-of-mouth stories about a dweller living on the bottom of the sea, waiting patiently for disobedient children to dip their feet onto the waters the cherry on top of the cake. (areum takes myths and stories alike to heart, both a pro and a con.)
with the proximity of the water once they moved to the new town, areum wants to test the theory for herself.
excusing herself to buy fruit — which, in retrospect, is the truth — areum runs past the market stands until her feet feel unfamiliar and grainy soil wedging in between her toes. there is no concrete plan aside from the fact that she wanted to dip herself in the water, even for a little while, and go home to share her adventure in excitement. twenty-three-year-old areum remembers how much ten-year-old areum marvels the sea once proximity: how the sparkles of the waters look inviting, pristine blue waters calling for her name with every roll of the wave, and the kid is never one to decline the call of something so beautiful.
cut to areum abandoning her slippers along with the small bag of fruit she brought a while ago near the shore as wet sand feels more comfortable than plastic hugging her feet.
cut to despite being small, consistent waves reaching the shore makes a mess on the hem of her dress and on her chest, sprinkles of saltwater find its way on — and, in the middle of her protest with its overpowering taste, she loses footing and tumbles on her back.
cut to the fear of going home heavy on her chest when, couple of heartbeats ago, she’s battling to get to shore — arms and leg flailing with her attempts — thankfully coughing out most of the sand and sea stored in her lungs.
cut to mother and father’s inquiries about her drenched state, to which the kid hast to lie through her teeth to steer away worry from her parents — “it is not much taller than father!” with a huge grin on her face. the promise of letting the secret grow beneath the curtains she carves deep in her heart.
many years later, and a couple of attempts to overcome such fear, areum feels like it’s pointless to put a period on her sea hating phase. as much as hatred is a big word, such word also brings bigger and perfect emotion with what she feels with vast body of water. she’s thankful that its view didn’t trigger her in any way, something she considers as a win in her book.
with how she’s upfront with her distaste towards the sea, she’s more than willing to set aside such feelings for the sake of mister nam.
mister nam, one of her neighbours who, in his earlier stages of life, devotes his life to the sea. and even with his old age, he never stops seeking the salt on his face and waves on his feet.
mister nam, born and graced in kindness and patience that some considered him as an angel in disguise. the same elderly man whom she treats as her grandfather; someone who buys and offers allergy medicine after her usual visits in his share house scattered with stray cats since he feeds them his fresh catch of fish.
mister nam, the elderly she also considers as her friend; someone she confides in her burdens — and the man wipes her tears with fresh tea, and cookies the neighborhood lady offers to him even if he states his dislikes towards cookies.
there is an irrational fear in her heart that is hard to shake away, one that includes her being dumped onto the water and sinking further despite mister nam’s precaution in form of a life vest before sailing beyond the shore, areum is more than willing to set it aside for a couple of hours for his sake.
and when the elderly man scheduled an idle fishing first thing in the morning, areum doesn’t have the heart to say no (nor does have the heart to share about her misfortunes of the sea decades ago both for her sake and his.)
cut to mister nam's boat in the middle of the sea and in crack of dawn, too far from their usual spot (she counts how many seconds away from land), respective poles on their hands and cold to kiss their faces with a job well done.
cut to areum's fears getting the best of her when mildly visible waves (but big to her gaze) rocking the boat back and fourth, eyes brimmed with tears as sanity slips quickly from her grasp.
cut to the rocking back of mister nam due to his big and first catch of the day a collateral for the aggressive sway of the boat — and areum's black and white fear is soon splashed with cold colours and even colder waves.
once sunrise, areum comes home with a bucket full of fish the younger siblings soon feed to their adopted cat, a second round of allergy medicine and a prayer of not catching a cold. mother and father noticed the deep crease on her forehead, and areum isn't one to share one of the things she finds scary come to life.
the ocean, 214. areum, 0. her hatred to the sea still stands. at least she knows how to fish by now.
[ an unsent letter written the night she returned to gohyang. tandem listens “i miss you, i’m sorry” by gracie abrams, “locksmith” by sadie jean and “memory lane” by haley joelle, heavy on the haley joelle vibes. ]
to the one i’ve truly never stopped thinking about,
you know i’ve always struggled with admitting when i’m wrong or i’ve made a mistake. if anyone knows that, it’s you. you did always know me best, but since we’ve gone our separate ways, i’ve made three major mistakes. probably more, but anything else would be simply be nitpicking.
my first mistake, and perhaps my greatest, was breaking up with you. no matter how mutual it may have been at the time, i understand that you truly are just /that/ selfless and accommodating. one of your traits i love and hate about you. it was infuriating, and i think i was hoping you would fight for me. realistically, we both know i was just a coward and hid behind the idea of spreading my wings or whatever bull i spouted as my reasoning. i was so sure distance would break us, so i had to do it first. i wonder if you’re still the same, and i pray you’ve been happy since. i would never wish my pain upon anyone.
which brings me to my second mistake. jumping into another relationship just months later had never been my plan. frankly i never thought i would make it like i did in seoul, so i clung to anything that would ground me and keep me from returning to gohyang like the coward i was when i left. the irony of that statement considering i’m writing this in my childhood bedroom. karma really came for me, huh?
i don’t know if you had even heard, but my last mistake was marrying a man who i doubt ever actually felt anything for me. would you believe me if i said everything moved so fast i couldn’t keep up? next thing i knew there was a ring on my finger and i became one of those sad girls i would always read about in my romance novels.
perhaps i can’t entirely blame him, though, for this not working out. i should be happy he even bothered signing the divorce papers after two years of us both avoiding the real issue. my heart was never really in it. there were so many late nights spent alone where my mind would wander to what could have been if i hadn’t ended things between you and me, midam. i know i would have been happier, but perhaps this is what we both needed to grow. i know i certainly needed to.
do you still think of me, too? are you also plagued with regrets about us? i hope the latter isn’t the case. you were never at fault for anything that happened between us, and i’m sorry for letting the distance grow between us.
The middle school nurse who was always tending to Dongwoo’s wounds gently smacked him in the arm for getting another fight. “You shouldn’t be getting into fights so many times. The teachers and students here like you, Dongwoo. We won’t put anything on your record because we know who you’re fighting for.” Nurse Kwon sighed, gently putting a gauze by Dongwoo’s temple where a cut was bleeding a few minutes ago. “You can’t be a delinquent, you’re a sm–”
“A smart and talented kid, I know. Everyone says that.” The 14-year-old mimicked the older male’s voice, earning a laugh from the nurse. He and other staff at the schools in the then-town have seen Dongwoo grow up. He was pretty smart, friendly, and athletic and his past music teachers spotted his talent and love for singing and performing early. It was obvious he had a bright future ahead of him, his grades on paper were black and white evidence of it. They also knew why his outside-school behavior was hindering him from further growth. He kept getting into fights and all the teachers and staff knew why.
His mothers voice echoed down the hall where the nurse’s office was, repeating the name of the reason Dongwoo had to learn how to fight, defend, and protect. “Dongmin! Dongmin, where is he? Where’s the nurse’s office?” Dongwoo sighed, flinching as the sting of the antibiotic on his patched up skin.
Dongwoo and Dongmin were rarely in the middle school’s health clinic. Before today, they were always taken in by the nurses and staff in the elementary school. That was where the majority of Dongmin’s bullies would target him, and Dongwoo would attempt to get out of class as early as he could to protect his younger brother from some stupid kids. Half the time it would end unfortunately in Dongwoo getting a black eye or a kick in the gut. He was just one kid, albeit a few years older, but they were money. If they found an opening, they’d gang up on him and he’s yell at Dongmin to get as far as he could but where the older brother could keep an eye on him. Once the bullies were satisfied and let out their pent up aggression on Dongwoo, they’d leave Dongmin alone. In later incidents, Dongwoo held his own, ending the fight with barely a bruise.
Today was an outlier, since Dongwoo was held back in class for a music club responsibility and was late. Dongmin naturally went straight from the elementary school to the middle school, luckily avoiding his bullies but they caught up to him. Dongwoo spotted the familiar incident and he put up a fight, just in a different venue. It’s why his mother or father would know where the nurse’s office is in Dongmin’s school but never Dongwoo’s once he entered middle school. The two were always there as the older was being taken care of protecting the younger.
Dongmin had been sitting in the lounge area of the nurse’s office, with Dongwoo stepping out and pushing the curtain aside. Some bruises on his arms, some cuts covered with bandages or gauzes. Since the local school staff were always in communication since students would only really leave for college after high school, they knew everything and they always felt uncomfortable with it. “Mom–”
“Dongmin, I’m so glad you’re okay!” Lee Yoona ran immediately for the young Na sibling, hugging Dongmin tightly and he made some noise with the intent to push her away from hugging too tight. Nurse Kwon gently flinched at the sight. Two brothers, one barely responding and fully safe, and the seemingly self-sacrificing older brother physically wounded. The mother never went to the latter aside from asking what happened during the attempted after school bullying.
“He’s fine.” Dongwoo answered for Dongmin who was probably somewhat paralyzed or just didn’t care enough about the bullies to mention them now. All this lack of attention from his own mother with his physical wounds because of her focus on Dongmin’s emotional ones. Dongwoo absolutely despised himself for feeling jealous, it was like his mother couldn’t see his emotional wounds at all, ones that she caused herself. It was crazy, but he couldn’t allow Dongmin to get hurt too badly. He was probably getting worse during class hours anyways, so Dongwoo never spoke up about this. The nurse sighed, handing their mother a copy of the incident report all filled out by the older brother who had basically memorized the format of.
The staff and faculty couldn’t say anything as well, but they were in pain seeing the neglect of Dongwoo even after protecting his brother who was on the spectrum. They just hoped it would play out well and Dongwoo would come out of all this still a good kid with very little resentment. So far, all they could see was the older brother’s caring side going on overdrive and the sadness and jealousy were always temporary once he felt the younger was alright.
“Let’s go, Ddongddongmin. I can help mom cook that after school food you like so you feel better.” The elder brother spoke, seemingly all fine and dandy with his sweet goofy smile and arm wrapped around Dongmin. He nudged him out of the nurse’s office after saying goodbye and thank you to Nurse Kwon, their mother a few steps ahead of them and their father probably waiting in the car.
"dongmin? the weirdo with his eyes glued to his books and is always talking about crabs?"
"ew, stay away from me.."
throughout elementary school, dongmin was shunned away from every single student who went to the same public school as him. to them, he was different, and different meant bad. it meant that they couldn't be friends with him because what if they became weird too? at first, he didn't find himself too bothered by it. none of them mattered as much as his books did. if anything, them staying away from him was probably a good thing, right? it meant that he had more time to read.
he still wondered, however.
why did they hate him so much? he'd never even interacted with them before. okay, maybe he did. he would tell them about how amazing the 10-legged decapods were and once he started, it was quite hard for him to stop but it was interesting. after all, what other living creature has been around since the jurassic period? they were even older than crocodiles. it was mindblowing and all he did was share that with the rest of his class so why didn't they appreciate it?
he just didn't and couldn't get it but he didn't say a word about this to anyone. yet, his family knew. they were aware of the fact that he was different from other kids. from something as small as the way he interacted with people to the fact that he was far smarter than all of the other kids his age, and knew things that even them as adults didn't made things even more obvious. the only thing they didn't know was just how bad the bullying was...
that is, until, that one day.
dongmin returned to his table after relieving himself at the toilet to scribbles all over his milk-drenched table. worse still, his precious books had their pages ripped out and strewn all over his seat. someone had written the words "get out, weirdo" across the middle of his table.
it was the same day that his parents had made the decision to transfer him out of private school to an establishment that was far better suited for a child like him.
〚 cat chronicle 002 〛
[ dated : august 12, 2023 ]
“so the big city cop is finally back home, huh?” joobin all but glared at the man who had the audacity to say that to her face, her own father. she wanted nothing more than to smack the cocky grin off his face. the old man had always vocalized his disapproval of her career choice, saying how dangerous being a cop would be for their precious only daughter.
in reality, he had wanted joobin to stay in gohyang out of convenience. after all, who else would bail him and her mother out of trouble whenever they were in a financial bind. the vast distance when she was in seoul gave her some reprieve from their demands. yet now, it seemed like he finally got what he wanted.
“just for a bit,” joobin grumbled as she picked at her rice bowl. inviting them to dinner was /clearly/ a mistake. she had an inkling the only reason they decided to eat at a restaurant was because she offered to pay. “we’ll see how things are once the ‘you know what’ gets settled,” she said cryptically. her daughter looked at her curiously, a question clearly on the tip of her tongue yet she was soon distracted by the delicious grilled meat joobin suddenly placed on her plate.
a tense silence filled the air. joobin’s mother smiled somewhat awkwardly and spoke in hopes of breaking said silence. “regardless of how long, your appa and i are happy that you and soomin are here. you know that the offer to stay at our place is still open. after all, how else am i going to spend time with my sweet grandbaby?”
joobin rolled her eyes at the saccharine tone in her mother’s voice. the older woman always used it when she wanted something from her. she wasn't about to let her daughter fall prey to it. “i already told you that i found a place. the house isn't big enough for four people and soomin is a growing girl. isn't that right, sweetie?” the young girl gave her a toothy grin. “yep! i've grown two centimeters since summer!”
she sent her parents a satisfying smirk. “don’t worry. we’ll visit often. now let's enjoy the rest of the grilled beef before it turns into a crisp, alright?”
“Mom – I mean, Manager Choi. Just let me report him. It won’t even get him fired, he’s –” Miyeon begged her mother, in the calmest way possible. She was standing a few feet away from her mother seated at her desk. The older woman in the family scoured through her documents, mildly annoyed at her daughter’s futile attempt at reporting her team manager. It was a man in his late 20s who had been working at the TV station since his post-college internship, and Miyeon was a returning “prodigal daughter” (in her mother’s eyes) who was trying to bring up the alleged harassment against her.
“Miyeon, love. That’s enough … Do you know what reporting him could do to his career? You just barely returned from your freedom in Seoul and he’s been working here for so long.” It stung, hearing her mother defend another man who was invading her personal space constantly after what almost happened to Miyeon back in Seoul. Choi Sora had never truly cared about her daughter’s well-being, she cared about her image and how their family looked even more. “You should be happy he even recommended you to be an anchorwoman so fast, but you barely had a quarter of the episodes your predecessor had.”
“Then find another one. It won’t stain the TV station if I resign by myself right?” The daughter between the two spoke with ice grating at . She hated her mother, but she loved her. She couldn’t like her, not how other people liked the company of their parents. “I think resigning would be responsible on my part, to help you avoid nepotism allegations. The TV station manager has their daughter be an anchorwoman, a bad look for us, right? Even if I wasn’t your first choice for the promotion. I wanted to be involved in behind-the-scenes research and production.”
Her mother didn’t respond for a few minutes, standing up from her seat barely a few inches taller than Miyeon only because of the former’s low-heeled footwear. After a deep exhale from Choi Sora, she put on a customer service smile. It was exactly like her daughter’s. “I think that would be a wise decision, responsible and forward-thinking, my sweet daughter.”
Sora’s arms wrapped around her stiff daughter, pulling her into a deep embrace with the shallowest emotions one could think of. “As long as you didn’t do anything he could report you for, though that doesn’t matter either. I’ll throw it under the table because I love you, Miyeon.”
"the reporters are poking around again," his uncle, byun gunwoo, seated next to him within the car, spoke into the phone. his tone, while flat, was laced with slight urgency. the lines of his jaw tightened, jugular vein visible, and it told son yiahn of how much the man was holding back on his emotions. when gunwoo caught his observing eyes, yiahn turned his gaze back to the book in his hand.
"he's /your/ son, for goodness sake!"
nine years old yiahn stiffened at the elevated voice of the older male. given the small space they were in, gunwoo's voice filled the entire car with annoyance. yet the younger male focused on one thing. was his so called uncle speaking to his. . .mother?
there was a tug in his chest. what was the word again? miss? was it possible to miss someone you have never met before? maybe it's the figure of a mother that he missed. that sad feeling that lingered when yiah wished he had someone he could call "mother" the moment he witnessed his classmates' being picked up by theirs. but even if his mother would appear before him, would he be able to call him "mother"?
after all, he cannot call the man currently beside him "father" and told to use "uncle" instead.
"yiahn," gunwoo called out, tone evened out and firm, as if he's speaking to someone of his own age. "once we are home, we will be packing your stuff."
the nine year old didn't bother to question. he simply nodded.
[ tandem listen to "come home" by max allais and "before you go" by lewis capaldi with a familial perspective ]
winter always brought with it a bitter and cold chill. even if the temperature outside was mild, roh minjun would be reminded of a time when things weren't so cheery amongst his family members. while in the present winter meant his older sister would be coming to visit, there had been a time when it was a dreaded season in his family's household. the reason why his own apartment seemed hardly occupied the moment snow started to decorate the ground.
he was always reminded of the shell of a person his mother had become after his older sister had stormed from the house, belongings already packed or left behind if she hadn't deemed them worthy of the trip. he remembered often feeling like the discarded sweater that never moved from her bed until the fateful day, a few years later, she had decided to reconcile with their parents and visit. beyond cleaning the room of dust, his parents never touched her space, and minjun had watched as the hope slowly died with each year that passed.
he felt like a tightrope pulled to taut between understanding why his sister had felt trapped and abhorring her for going about it in such a dramatic manner. he was sure there could have been some sort of compromise that would have spared many hurt feelings. even their youngest sibling had been shielded somewhat from the aftermath as he stepped up into a role he never thought he'd have to fill.
even moving out himself didn't seem like such a catastrophic event considering every evening he made it a point to come by for dinner, and if he couldn't do that, he spend a lunch break at their house. perhaps he had become too much of a mother hen himself, but it had been traumatic watching the strongest people in his life crumble, and he felt a personal responsibility for keeping them all held together. he doubted he would see much of the world beside the city he had grown up in.
"seoyun, darling, you should really try to be more like your brother. look at where he is now and look at yourself."
seoyun almost sighed, fighting the urge to roll her eyes as her mother babbled on and on (as usual) about how she should strive to be more like her older brother. this wasn't exactly new to her so she was used to it. she knew her mother would stop as soon as she realized seoyun wasn't going to say anything in return.
it had been that way ever since seoyun could remember.
she was constantly being compared to her achiever of an older brother and being told she needed to do better. the comparison came from her parents, and their teachers — it didn't help that seoyun attended the same schools that sangjoon attended. even relatives were no strangers to comparing the two of them. she was always the younger sister who had to fight to show that she was just as good as her older brother but it didn't and would never mean that she hated her older brother.
seoyun loved and admired him more than anything in the world. back in 2nd grade, when she'd received an essay titled 'my role model', she had wrote about her older brother. she was proud of him and it showed on the face of the young girl, and it was no different even at the age of 25 but it was starting to get tiring for her.
would there ever be a day when she could just be cho seoyun and not known as merely cho sangjoon's younger sister?
"i'm heading into the office, mom. i'll call you back later."
seoyun hung up the phone as she gazed up at the tall building that would be her workplace for the foreseeable future. she sighed as she shook her head, plastering her usual big smile on her face before walking into the office.
it was a rare day for soojin to be free. usually, even her off days were filled with catching up on paperwork for calico city. today was different. she had somehow managed to finish everything that needed to be done. for once, she had the luxury to do whatever she needed or wanted to do but didn't /have/ anything that she wanted to do so she found herself seated at one of the window seats of the cafe as she stared outside aimlessly.
people passed by the window as she looked on. there were families with their pets, people who were alone just like her, and of course, couples.
soojin felt a tinge in her heart as she looked at the happy couples who passed by. she remembered the days when the two of them were genuinely like that. the relationship they had now was the complete opposite of what they had been and it hurt — and the more it hurt, the more she threw herself into working tirelessly for the city. it was the only thing that was constant in her life now but what if...
she shook her head to clear her head. there were no what-ifs and she most certainly didn't want to entertain the thoughts of /him/ any longer than she currently was.
"i'll just... head home after i'm done with this cup of coffee."
〚 cat chronicle 002 〛
it was half past nine at night in the city hall. the building that was usually busy with a mix of civil servants and the citizens they served always emptied once the clock struck five. yet the lights of the office belonging to a certain vice-mayor remained on. inside was a disgruntled cho sangjoon, typing away at the keyboard like a madman. he looked away from the monitor screen for a moment and glared at the stack of papers to his left. “it’s your fault that i’m still here,” he muttered, voice laced with utter disdain.
contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t a total workaholic. despite his dedication to his civic duties, sangjoon liked leaving the office at a reasonable time; however, the amount of work had piled up thanks to gohyang’s promotion into a city. there were endless amounts of policies to review and reports to prepare. he had no choice but to stay in the office late if he wanted to get things done. unlike their predecessors, the current government officers were not mere pencil pushers.
thanks to the hard work of him and his childhood friends, jang taeyang and rang soojin, the three of them were able to help their small town flourish into something more. sangjoon would never admit it out loud but he was glad he got to work with both of them. losing the election for mayor to taeyang turned out to be a blessing in disguise since he flourished in a more supportive role. plus it kept him out of the spotlight more often—something he appreciated since he hated acting enthusiastic for the camera.
his parents did not share the same sentiment. for decades, his father coveted the role of mayor and pushed that dream onto his son. sangjoon was swayed by familial duty to fulfill that dream but he “failed” after the effort of trying to be something he wasn’t. his parents would have to settle with the fact that their son was satisfied with merely being the vice-mayor.
sangjoon shook himself out of his reflective musing. perhaps this was a sign to pack things up and head home. with a sigh, he turned off his computer and gathered his things. work would always be there the next day.
[ tandem listen to "painted him perfect" and "happy once" by alexandra kay ]
eunae remembers when she left gohyang, rose-colored glasses fit perfectly in place while the sun was shining and her hand was laced with another's. everything back then had seemed so simple. she had gotten into her dream college, pursuing her passion for music, and she had met a guy who made her heart soar. she should have known eighteen was too soon to believe you found your soulmate.
if it seems too good to be true, it probably is.
and oh did, jung dongmin seem too good to be true.
he had swept her away with his charming personality, doting on her as if she were his whole world. he had quickly become hers. no one had quite supported her career choice like he had, and it was hardly a surprise she had said yes when he asked her to marry him barely a year into their relationship. her parents and friends, from gohyang and seoul, had questioned the speed at which their relationship was moving, yet she couldn't be deterred from pursuing what she believed to be her endgame.
except after they wed, her college assignments were not what she stressed over every night. the more time they spent together married, the more often dongmin found ways to distance himself. he entertained her attempts at fixing their relationship, attending the couple therapy sessions just to paint her into the villain. issues he had never brought up to her before suddenly became the foundation of their problems, according to him. he suddenly hated how wrapped up in her career she could get, how often she wrote love songs about their relationship, and how he felt obligated to attend all of her performances despite preferring to be at home.
so she tried. her music became less about them, she stopped inviting him to her gigs, she made sure to be home more often.
it was when he didn't even bother to attend her graduation that eunae sat down to reevaluate her relationship with him. she remembered the way he couldn't even look her in the eye as she slid the divorce papers across the table, merely signing them without a second glance and letting her know he would have his things moved that weekend. he had a second apartment he had been disappearing to since they started their therapy sessions, a fact she had been unaware of.
she had sat at their kitchen table with the papers for hours after he left before she numbly picked herself back up and went through the motions of her typical day. she immediately packed a bag so she didn't have to witness him physically leaving for good, headed back to gohyang for the first time in five years.
it wasn't until her mother asked where her wedding ring that eunae broke down. she had left the ring next to the divorce papers, not wanting to look at the piece of jewelry that was supposed to represent a lifelong commitment. and she had to explain to her parents that they were right and she /had/ been foolish enough to marry someone she no longer recognized. they were her parents, though, and it didn't take much convincing from them for her to make the decision to move back to gohyang.
she spent the first couple months hardly stepping out of her parent's home before they convinced her to start picking up shifts at their flower shop. a couple shifts turned into a full-time gig, and she slowly found solace in songwriting again, her mother suggesting it as a way of coping with what happened. she had enough materials at home to record some pieces, and that's what she started rotating between. mornings would be spent organizing floral bouquets, and evenings would be spent hidden away in her room writing and recording what could be an entire album's worth of songs.
eventually she'd start to perform again. little things here and there just to feel something again.
four years. four years since she had stepped foot on korean soil, it all felt like a wonder to seoah. there were multiple times when she wanted to drop everything, take her father's credit card and go back home. it's not like the old man would mind, and he could very well afford it himself.
however seoah persisted, through every feeling of failure, every moment of heartbreak, every moment of loneliness. furthermore, the young woman was sure that if she stepped into belle epoque before she finished her degree and license – her mother would chase her back to new york.
she would say, "you whined and grumbled for so long that you wanted to study abroad and /now/ you're having second thoughts?? your bags are still packed, call your father and tell him you'll be back in two days." she knew the line verbatim, she had heard a variation of it every single time she video called her mother with tear streaked eyes.
heartless as it seemed to others, kang mihee knew her daughter best. these moments of weakness were fleeting before her resolve, simply minor cracks that plaster could not fill. had seoah always relented to these feelings of homesickness, she knew that the young woman would have feelings of regret for all her life.
she knew that she couldn't tell such a stubborn girl to return home whenever things got tough.
as seoah grew older and explored the world on her own, she too, understood this as well. she had also begun to understand why her mother was so adamant that she stayed. when she lived with her father for those few years, the two seldom spoke beyond the usual conversations - yet he himself had once uttered these words before she departed for home.
"not only do you look like her, you act a lot like her too. you'll do fine with whatever you do seoah-ya."
those words rang in her head again after she walked through baggage claim and towards the arrival gate. her pace picked up, ultimately putting her luggage to the side and sprinting towards the older woman with a big smile. tears threatened her waterline, falling downing as she shut her eyes close in her mother's embrace.
"he's the new blood, right? they said the old meteorologist was the one who recommended him, he must be good." onlookers whispered, nudging eachother to pass sneaky glances at the suited up young man that had walked towards the broadcast station's pantry.
"well he's handsome thats for sure, even if his presenting he'll get us ratings off his looks alone."
"ever the optimist are you? lets go, we're needed for the camera test."
yoon midam, on the other hand, was starving. he had woken up an hour before dawn, a feat that seemed impossible for the sleepaholic. had he understood the circumstances of becoming a broadcast meteorologist before declaring his major in university, midam would have simply dropped out. of course, that itself would have brought along other consequences. however midam was sure he could handle an earful from his parents more than waking up before the rooster even howled at the sunrise.
waking up this early meant he had to skip breakfast from home. getting dressed quickly in the suit he laid out the prior evening - the station said they would handle hair and makeup in-house. though the hairstylist and make up artist worked quickly on him, stating that with his looks, their work would be easy and quick.
granted midam was rather miffed about the fact that he came early specifically for the fact that the station said hair and makeup would take a while. with time left to spare, he had received directions to the break room and was currently making eye contact with the sandwich bread on the pantry.
deciding to take two slices, along with some jam smothered on both sides he placed them inside the toaster, cranking the knob to the right most settings.
"5 minutes? i thought toasters were quick." of course, midam was patient. yet patience had granted him two fully burnt pieces of bread.
he'd go on air for the first time in ten minutes, and he was still hungry.
the following are excerpts found tucked away in soojin's older diaries and journals before her current one. it dates all the way back to even her high school days which was when she started keeping diaries.
> diary entry #??? (high school days)
dear diary,
today ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶j̶e̶r̶k̶ ̶ jang taeyang got first place in the entire school yet again. he's so a͇n͇n͇o͇y͇i͇n͇g͇!! how does he keep getting the highest grades when he doesn't even try? he's not the one working his off studying non-stop!! that person is me and yet i'm second place? how the fu–
i don't understand why all those girls in class fangirl over him when i just want to squish his annoying face into a pillow. hmph. i'm going to work even harder to try and surpass him. i don't believe i can't get there.
also, i got chased by a dog the other day so i missed the quiz that i worked so hard to prepare for. maybe that's how he surpassed me this time, right?
anyways, he also got me a mug. he said it's for Christmas. ̶i̶t̶'̶s̶ ̶c̶u̶t̶e̶.̶ ̶
wait. how can i think anything associated with him is cute? pretend i never said that.
i'll talk to you another time, diary!!
rang soojin signing out.
quote of the day:
our greatest weakness lies in giving up. the most certain way to succeed is to try just one more time.
— thomas edison.
————————————————————
> diary entry #???? (pre-marriage)
dear diary,
woah it's been a while since i wrote in here.
can you believe it? mom and dad just told me that i have to marry jang taeyang if i want to be mom's successor. apparently mr and mrs jang told him the same thing so we're really going through with this.
oddly enough, as much as i dislike him, i'm not completely opposed to this marriage because at least it's him. it's someone i've known for this long but... now that i think about it, why did i hate him anyway? was it just because of our school placements? am i that competitive?
he's not bad looking either... he's pretty good-looking and i don't think he hates me? maybe it's time for our one-sided feud to end? i wonder what it'll be like to live with him. i wonder what being married to him will feel like but i suppose i won't have to wonder for much longer. i'm going wedding dress shopping with mom and mrs jang tomorrow. i'm nervous. ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶n̶k̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶i̶ ̶l̶o̶o̶k̶ ̶p̶r̶e̶t̶t̶y̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶d̶r̶e̶s̶s̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶s̶e̶e̶s̶ ̶m̶e̶?̶ ̶
that aside, what if iseul and sangjoon were in the government positions too? i think that would make our term the best one in history.
i have to go now.
catch you later, diary.
rang soojin.
quote of the day :
when life throws you lemons, don't make lemonade. make lemon pie.
— rang soojin.
————————————————————————
> diary entry #??? (during their relationship)
> there are obvious tear marks on this one.
dear diary,
i have great news to share. taeyang and i, we're dating! or at least, we're giving it a try.
he makes me so happy. i feel like i can actually be myself without needing to care about how i look with him...
but i'm scared. what if he sees how imperfect i am and leaves me too? is this what they mean by just waiting for that person to see how.... imperfect you really are and leaving?
would he leave me eventually?
i'm too scared to put all of my heart into this but.. i... i think ̶i̶'̶m̶ ̶f̶a̶l̶l̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶ ̶
he makes me happy, he really does and i want to make him happy too... but i'm really scared.
what should i do?
—————————————————————————————————————————-
> diary entry #???? (post-breakup)
i was right.
he left.
how could someone like him love someone like me?
it's all my fault.
i'm so sorry, taeyang-ah. i didn't know how to love so i hurt you instead.
if i could turn back time, i wish you would've never met me so that i won't have to see the hurt in your eyes like i did when you told me you're done.
i'm so sorry.
i'm so sorry for hurting you.
i'm so sorry for being the reason you got hurt.
i'm so sorry.
i didn't even get to tell you that i'm in love with you. it's all too late.
— post break-up with jang taeyang. this is soojin's point of view at their relationship currently. —
it was strange.
it was weird.
soojin didn't know how else to describe the house that she was living in now. it was so quiet now, and the two lived like they were strangers sharing the same home. she had gotten so used to /his/ warmth that the sudden cold now seemed even harsher, even colder than before, and worse still, it was all her fault.
growing up, soojin had always been the type to hide her emotions away. she couldn't deal with both the pressure and her feelings at the same time so she had willingly sacrificed the latter by always keeping everything bottled up inside. /he/ was the reason that she was slowly starting to eventually open up but perhaps it was too slow.
"i should've told him what he meant to me when i had the chance."
she didn't know when but from some point, he started to mean the world to her. she was in love with him by the time the break up had happened, and she was planning on telling him — she was going to confess her feelings to him when he confronted her for her lack of affection when they were together.
soojin's heart had broken both for him and because of him that day, and soojin herself, had retracted back into her shell that stopped people from reading her like an open book.
"i would leave me too if i was him."
those were words she would constantly tell herself, and it was quickly eating her up but she didn't tell anyone. instead, she did what she had always done.
she bottled it up inside.
perhaps it would only be a matter of time before it finally explodes on her.
it was the first time in years that byul had stepped foot inside of her own house. hell, it was the first time in years that she had even stepped foot inside of this quaint little town. she had initially thought she would never come back or that if she did, she'd come back a superstar who was looking to get a breath of fresh air in her hometown but she was wrong. she was back and a failure.
friendship had failed her.
her career had failed her.
worst of all, love had failed her.
tears were threatening to fall as she stepped through the small entrance of her mother's house but she didn't see her. the house was quiet. perhaps she wasn't home yet. maybe it was for the best that byul not see her yet. she didn't know how her mother would even react. would she be happy? perhaps angry? would she be kicked out of the house this time? she didn't know, and she found anxiety rising in her at the unknown.
"i can't do this."
byul turned around and almost ran into her mother.
"b-byul? is it really you? my little star?" her mother looked like she had aged 10 years since byul had last seen her and it broke her heart. was she not taking care of herself properly while she was gone? her mother's eyes were already wet with tears upon seeing her daughter.
〚 cat chronicle 001 - possible tw: talks of divorce and cheating 〛
“why are you being so unreasonable? think about how this will affect soomin–”
“sanghoon, i’m going to stop you right there.” ban joobin interrupts, vitriol laced in her voice.
the /audacity/ of this man. to think she swore to stay with him in sickness and in health till death do they part, only for him to abandon her and their daughter for some younger woman he met a pretentious circle-jerk of a philosophy conference in seoul.
she sighs dramatically, drawing out the silence knowing it would the man on the other line uncomfortable. “it’s laughable, really, that you are /now/ concerned about our daughter’s wellbeing after abandoning her without a goodbye.”
she chuckles at his undignified squawk. “i-i didn’t abandon her!” he protests. “i just felt like it was best to give her space to, um, adjust to this new situation… besides, you’re not making this any easier. we could’ve mediated this divorce by now but you want to continue stretching it out.”
it takes every ounce of joobin’s being not to scream at her phone. “you cannot be serious right now,” she bites. “this whole torture of a divorce process is still going on because you somehow think it makes sense to have full custody of the child i practically raised myself.”
a storm of negative emotions takes over her senses, her resolve to remain calm and collected slowly etching away.
“let’s not forget that you took all of my hard-earned money from the joint account so you could fund your shiny new lifestyle as a cheater. cry me a river!” she’s glad this is a phone call since the damn tears welling up in her eyes would give the bastard some sick satisfaction with the effect he still has on her.
he’s silent, clearly at a loss on how to respond. joobin seizes this moment to get the last word.
“the unreasonable one is you, sanghoon. get your head out of your philosophical and come back to the real world. look over the terms my lawyer sent to you. they make sense and, believe it or not, would serve us both well.”
she presses the “end call” button with grim satisfaction. so much for a civil conversation…
Hello, incoming and current Gohyang citizens! In regards to the revamp, the admin team has a couple of notices to share. These are for the new and returning muns commenting for characters.
1. Non-Korean faceclaims will now be accepted with this new update but do take note that there are limited spots open. The limit is currently at 10. You may check the masterlist for an updated number of non-Korean characters.
2. Deactivated characters (aside from those previously owned by current roleplayers) have all been deleted along with the revamp.
3. The admin team is still looking for a new coadmin. Requirements can be found in a recent blog post if interested.
Thank you for reading this and we hope to see you soon!
