Geonhak's eyes are half closing behind his glasses as he goes through pages and pages of online documentation. He checks the dates, figures and name spellings, repeatedly saves the file to avoid losing it as he has done countless times, and never stops adding and removing words or whole sentences. His phone keeps vibrating next to him on his administrative desk but he ignores it; he has no doubt it is Dongju spamming him once again. He really needs to get this project outline done before he leaves the townhall. Dongju's neverending, eccentric requests will wait.
As his phone is receiving what must be by now the tenth call, Geonhak starts as he feels someone's friendly hand on his right shoulder. He looks up, his eyes momentarily blurry from having stared too much at his computer screen, and smiles as he recognises Youngjo. His coworker looks worried. "Everything's okay? Are you staying late tonight?"
Geonhak slightly frowns, and points at the digital file. "Yeah, I need to finish that up. Almost done. I'll be leaving in a few minutes, no worries."
The taller man watched him dubiously with his piercing eyes. "It's already 4:45PM," he indicates evasively. "Isn't it your week?"
Geonhak freezes on the spot. He swiftly gets a look at his computer clock. "Shoot," he mumbles. The blond-haired man immediately closes the file on the screen, turns the computer off and roughly tosses his belongings into his shoulder bag. "How could I forget," he snarls at himself in an undertone. He briefly glances at a sympathetic-looking Youngjo, and thanks him for the reminder.
"Hey, it's alright, Geonhak-ah," the eldest of them two softly says. "I'm sure he's fine. See you tomorrow. Please rest."
Geonhak nods and runs out of their sectors' shared floor, almost taking the stairs two by two as he goes down the townhall's mazy buildings. He finally checks his phone screen: 12 unread messages from Dongju; 2 from an unknown number, which also tried to call him several times; and Dongju calling him once more right now. He answers dryly between his teeth, his jaw clenched, "Yes, got it. I'm on my way."
Dongju starts bawling through the phone at how irresponsible a person Geonhak is and how stu— before the concerned party hangs up. Geonhak does not need Dongju to tell him those things; he knows he messed up — again. He knows he keeps failing at his duties and at this whole parenting thing. Again, he has forgotten to pick up his son from school.
Geonhak speeds up on the way to the primary school, hoping that his child is all but worried and that he is well taken care of. His car's tyres screech against the concrete of the school parking-lot, and he barely makes sure to pull the handbrake before he jumps out of the driver's seat and into the school grounds.
He immediately spots his boy's figure on a playground structure, his legs dangling before him, his hands tightly holding onto his schoolbag's strips. His grinning eyes are looking up at a pink-haired adult on a neighbouring structure which is almost his size, considering how short he is. They seem to be in a deep, fun conversation, but Geonhak calls his son without any form of introduction, "Sunyul-ah! I'm here! Appa's here."
The little boy's smile gets bigger as he glimpses at his father, and waves at him. The adult next to the child smiles in relief and gets up, gesturing for Sunyul to do the same. "Appa!" the little boy yelps happily, stretching out his arms so that Geonhak might lift him up. His blonde father holds him tight against his chest and breathes in the boy's reassuring smell, a mixture of hair lotion and... paint?
"I'm sorry, baby," he whispers in his husky voice. "It will never, ever happen again. Promise." He holds his head back a little to peck his son on his chubby cheek. He then turns around to face the other adult who is fiddling with his hands, smiling awkwardly at him. "Hi, Mr... Yeo, is it? I got your calls. I'm terribly sorry, I'm significantly late." He looks down while holding onto his son and adds weakly, "Work..."
"It's okay, Mr. Kim! It's always a pleasure to talk with Sunyul. You've got a bright kid here. Please make sure to remember to pick him up next time!" The young teacher is so fully enthusiastic and gives him such a bright grin that it makes Geonhak smile a little too.
"Thank you, sir." Geonhak glances sideways at his son, who is quietly waiting, his arms grudgingly wrapped around his father's neck. "Everything okay here?"
Sunyul lets go of him to proudly show both his hands, on which some paint is still visible. "We had a painting suction with Hwanwoong-ssi!"
"A painting session, little man," the teacher giggles softly next to them. "Your boy is pretty good at art. Did you know?"
"No wonder, when you take a look at his father," Geonhak says matter-of-factly.
Precisely at that moment, he and the teacher turn around at the throbbing sound of an engine and the slamming of a car door. A wide, black Range Rover has just parked next to Geonhak's own car and he laments his knowing that vehicle too well. "Speak of the devil," he sighs under his breath.
A slender, long-haired blonde is striding towards them, an expensive handbag hanging from his folded right arm. His cold eyes look fierce, almost murderous, and his burgundy-ish eyeshadow makes them all Geonhak can see — they are fixed on him, imprisoning the slightly taller man in their grasp.
It is however the newcomer's voice that scorch him. "Kim Geonhak!" Dongju shrieks, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "How dare you? You were one hour late!"
Geonhak takes a quick breath and answers calmly, "I know. I'm sorry. Everything's fine now."
"It is not! You wasted everyone's time, including that poor teacher's." He stealthly glances at Mr. Yeo who is awkwardly making himself as small as possible, almost hiding behind the playground structure. "I apologise on behalf of my ex-husband. He's got no manners."
Dongju's attention returns to its favourite plaything. "Don't you have anything to say to me?" The smaller man's nasal voice is getting louder and louder. "You had me drive the whole way from Gangnam up to here because I thought you'd never make it on time." Dongju crossed his arms on his chest, looking right up into Geonhak's sheepish eyes.
"I said it's okay now," Geonhak whispers. He is slowly growing tired of fighting against this burning rage inside of him, which his former partner only entices.
Dongju rolls his eyes out of scorn and lets a sour laugh out. "Do you think I have all the time in the world to correct your stupid mistakes? May I remind you that me and my brother are working on a crucial project — maybe the most defining project for our company?"
Geonhak cannot help but give in. "I was wondering when you would bring Dongmyeong up. Long time no see. Is he still as insufferable or do you beat him now?"
Next to his ear, Geonhak can hear a gentle sniff and he realises tears are beginning to fill Sunyul's wide eyes. He feels a pang in his heart; he hates for him to see his fathers fight.
Mr. Yeo takes this opportunity to interrupt them quietly, "Mr. Kim, Mr. Son, thank you both for coming at school to pick up Sunyul. I believe you should part..."
Geonhak brushes against his son's damp cheeks and pulls him closer. "Sunnie and I will be leaving. Thank you for your time, Mr. Yeo." He reluctantly looks at Dongju. "Baby, will you kiss daddy goodbye?"
"Even if daddy is yelling at appa?" Sunyul murmurs, his face hidden in the nook of Geonhak's neck.
"Yes. Appa deserved it. Now, go."
He drops the little boy down and Dongju stoops to hug his son. "I'll see you in a few days, darling. Remember, we're going to the museum's workshop with Uncle Dongmyeong. You take your favourite colour pencils with you, okay?" Sunyul nods, gives a peck to his father and walks back to Geonhak.
Dongju smiles politely at Mr. Yeo, who is still looking down, wishing he did not exist, but his smile fades as he meets Geonhak's gaze. The smaller man turns around, his tied dyed hair swirling along with his silhouette, and he walks away. Geonhak feels empty, trying to remember a time when he was madly in love with Dongju's perfect hair, bewitched by his small figure and gummy smile.
Geonhak takes leave of his son's teacher, apologising profusely once more — again, Mr. Yeo is overly sympathetic with him — and drives Sunyul home. When they enter his small apartment, he notices the boy is still confused about everything he has gone through, and sighs before telling him, "Hey, baby, what do you think about some ice cream and cartoons?"
Sunyul's face immediately lights up and he almost jumps up and down to the sofa, over-excited at the privilege. His father prepares a few scoops of his boy's favourite — strawberry — and settles next to him, turning the TV on. "It's just for tonight, right?" Geonhak reminds the boy, who nods absent-mindedly, already absorbed in the cartoons — Doraemon, again.
The child cuddles against the strong chest of his father, who strokes his soft black hair. He hates it that Sunyul should suffer the consequences of his parents' poor choices and temperaments. He just wants his boy to be happy and receive as much love from both his fathers as he deserves. Slowly, quietly, they both fall alseep.