Kihyun settles on the bench in the park near Jaemin's house, pulling his feet up and curling himself into a fetal position. Thoughts from different walks of his life invade his mind, his brother and friends, his parents, and his new target of bullying, Min Sehyuk.
The transferee is a strange guy, willingly offering himself to be bullied. Although he wears baggy outfits, Kihyun can feel his gym body under his fists through the layers of clothing, something taut, unlike the usual soft tummies of the ones he's bullied till now. Neither does the boy cower in fear but instead always has a challenging glint in his eyes. And not to forget the transferee's take-no-bullshit attitude when it came to football and replacing him. Kihyun finds his presence and mannerisms unsettling, unable to pinpoint specific characteristics of the freshman.
Jaemin swore Kihyun didn't have a mean bone in his body. He wonders when it stopped being true. Was it when he saw his closest friends on the day of their high school graduation or when he learned the truth about his brother? Even so, it doesn't excuse his actions. Not that he cares about it anyway. He has long stopped caring what others think of him.
Kihyun lets out a tired sigh, moving to lie down on the long bench, a hand coming up to cover his eyes from the starry sky above, back relaxing onto the cool surface of the chair. He still has to face his parents for insulting them at the party and he knows he's not going to be let off with just a simple lecture. But he has no energy to deal with them right now. He raises his wrist to look at the time. It's past midnight and maybe Kihyun could sneak into the house after a while, when his parents would be sleeping.
The day has been taxing apart from the brief conversation with Kim Haneul. He was surprised to meet someone who knew his brother and lets out a deranged chuckle at the same lies he had fed both Haneul and him. "A new business? Yeah, right!"
As minutes pass by, Kihyun's eyes get heavier, his thoughts fading and his mind decompressing. Not long after, the boy lets the curtain of sleep fall, the state slowly embracing him like a toddler coddled in its mother's arms.
"...you're powerful, bribe the judges and get Minwoo out."
Kihyun stills outside his father's study, eavesdropping on the conversation between his parents.
"They have clear evidence, there's nothing even I can do." Kang Wooshik says dropping onto his office chair. "The sentence is the least he could get so we should be grateful."
Kihyun pushes the door, hearing enough. "What happened to hyung!" he demands, a mix of confusion and anger painting his face.
"Kihyun, nothing is wrong. You don't have to—"
"—no, he should know everything, Hyesuk. After all, Kihyun is not going to see his brother for five years." Wooshik interrupts his wife, folding his arms over his chest. "The police found kilos of drugs in Minwoo's room."
The boy shakes his head in denial. "T-that can't be..." he murmurs taking a step back.
"And the so-called business he was setting up was no other than a damn drug cartel," his father continues, ignoring the shock on Kihyun's face. "It's a good thing he was caught before he got involved in anything major."
"Hyung would never do something like that! You're a liar! I don't believe you!"
"Kang Kihyun!" Wooshik warns, standing abruptly and towering over his son. "Just because this is unexpected news for you, doesn't mean you'll disrespect me." He yanks the said boy's collar and throws a glare. "Leave if you know what's good for you."
Kihyun hates how the commanding voice always sends shivers up his spine, and his only shield isn't here anymore...his brother. He stumbles out of the room, shaky steps dragging through the floorboards and climbing the stairs leading to his bedroom. He falls to his knees, back sliding over the closed door, head knocking against it. "Why...what happened?" He whispers but there's no answer.
Kihyun grits his teeth, fingers curling into fists. He remembers years ago, when he was fourteen, for the first time he was given a packet of white powder at a party, the dealer claiming that it was a must for all rich kids to do drugs at least once. And it must've been true since he had seen Minwoo hold a similar packet just a day before. He had taken the powder home only to have it snatched by his brother.
"What do you think you're doing!" The man had bellowed with furious eyes.
"Hyung, I saw you carrying the same thing yesterday! Don't worry, everyone does this. It's not a big deal—" Kihyun's head snaps to the right after a hand strikes his cheek. His eyes widen, fingers coming to hold his stinging area. Perhaps, it was the first time his brother had slapped him. And the man himself looked stunned at his behavior.
"I-I'm sorry...I didn't mean to do that," Minwoo croaked, moving forward and putting his hands on the younger boy's face. "Please, promise me that you'll never touch drugs. It's a vicious cycle." He pleaded, pulling Kihyun into a hug.
Kang Minwoo, thirteen years older than Kihyun, had always been there for his younger brother, a lodestar of some sort. He excelled in everything he did and Kihyun stayed under his shadow, but the boy didn't hate his brother for it, although he was envious he was happy for him. But he didn't know the man outside of what Minwoo showed him, blinded by the love the older showered him with.
Kihyun should've asked more about why Minwoo had drugs, rather than just melting in his embrace and agreeing to his pleas.
Now, Kihyun wraps his hands around his frame, choking on a sob. "Liar..." he whimpers, "you're a liar and hypocrite, hyung. I'll never forgive you for distorting the perfect image of the only man in my life I looked up to."
Something broke in him and Kihyun decided he didn't need anyone anymore.
Kihyun opens his eyes slowly, mulling over the memory-turned dream. It's been a year since Minwoo was sentenced and he didn't visit him even once. His anger is as fresh as the event in his mind. The betrayal, a sharp blade still knifed in his chest.
A cold wind passes by him but Kihyun still feels warm. Only then does he notice the long overcoat covering his body, a piece that didn't belong to him. And he's sure it wasn't there before he dozed off. He gets up from his position and looks around. The sky has already lifted, dawn tearing its way through the clouds. Kihyun gawks, how long was he asleep?
"Crap! It's already half past six!" He jolts up from the bench, holding the black coat in his hands, in a dilemma about whether to leave it on the spot or take it with him. He doesn't know who left it here but a smile makes its way through his lips, a bit elated that kind people still exist. It's a small gesture, but little, genuine actions are what win people's hearts. He then puts on the jacket over his shoulders, a light scent of ocean and musk teasing his nose.
Kihyun combs his hair with his fingers and jogs out of the area to hail a cab and go home. If he slips in without his parents knowing and leaves for university after freshening up, the boy is sure he will dodge them and have another smooth day. He pays the driver and walks to his villa, to the window of his room, slowly sneaking in by climbing the steps. He slides open the window, one leg dropping into his room, followed by the other, and closes the window. He heaves a sigh and turns, only to have his breath lodge in his throat.
"A-abeoji..." Kihyun curls his fist over the coat, creating creases in the area. His father sits on his bed, arms crossed over his chest and a glare that could kill. "I-I'm sor—"
"Not a word." The man shakes his head. "Not today."
Kihyun shuts his eyes, sucking in his lips.
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"According to Alfred Adler, the firstborn is neurotic, may be somewhat reserved, and is usually dutiful and responsible. The middle child may be the emotionally stable one, whereas, the youngest child is ambitious and would want to surpass their older siblings." The professor explains as he writes on the whiteboard with a red marker. "This theory is called the Birth Order theory. It's based on the assumption that the order of birth shapes children's personalities along with their social surroundings."
Sehyuk scribbles some points in his notebook, underlining the title of the theory. He couldn't relate to his professor's points on a personal level since he's an only child. As if on cue, a girl raises her hand.
"Prof, what if I'm an only child?"
"Well in a case like that, the only child gets all of his parent's attention and they're usually coddled. These types of children will be confident and spoilt, would not tend to take orders from others, and could be mature for their age."
Sehyuk hums, nodding his head slowly. He may not posses all the attributes that were just laid in front of him but yes, he's confident and coddled. His parents fuss over every little thing of his, be it an achievement or his birthday. People back in the U.S. asked him if he ever felt lonely without siblings but he couldn't answer them when he didn't know what it's like to have others share the same parents with him.
The bell rings and Sehyuk packs his bag, proceeding to the cafeteria where Jaemin would already be waiting for him since the boy doesn't have a class during this time. He pulls out his student card and slaps it onto the vending machine, choosing a cup of jjajangmyeon and a bottle of water with it.
"Sehyuk!" Jaemin yells, grabbing the transferee's attention with his hand waving in the air.
The cafeteria is as loud as always, busy with students and clanking utensils. The smell of various foods is notorious to the new entrees in the place, but getting better with time as they settle into their seats.
"What's up?" Sehyuk asks, sitting in front of Jaemin who has his head in his hands.
"You!" The smaller boy points an accusing finger at him. "You kept me awake all night and now I feel like a zombie. You're such a bad influence, Hyuk." He groans, dragging his hands on his face.
"Live a little, who in the world sleeps before eleven?" Sehyuk gawks in fake displeasure.
"Me!" Jaemin slaps his chest for emphasis. "Some of us prefer living longer lives doing healthy things unlike others that, I don't know," he shrugs in mockery. "They tend to shorten their lifespan getting into trouble by getting beaten up and staying awake late at night."
The blond rolls his eyes. "Yeah, whatever."
A tray is slammed next to Sehyuk, and then a chair is pulled. "I have some new tea for you," the new interruption announces, picking up his chopsticks.
"We are not interested in your gossip, Wonjae," Jaemin grouses, tearing a piece out of a drumstick.
"Oh, it is about your old friend so I'm sure you would want to know."
Kim Wonjae, a student majoring in journalism and the creator of the university gossip account on Twitter. He scouts for trouble and posts anonymous confessions on his social media. A perfectly nosy guy, totally apt for the major he's pursuing.
"What is it?" Sehyuk asks instead, a brow raising inquisitively.
Wonjae looks around like a suspicious alley cat. "It seems Kang Kihyun got into a fight yesterday with boys from a nearby college."
"That's not possible," the transferee informs, "I saw him yesterday."
"It's not like you were with him the whole day. Rumors are, it happened late in the night." Wonjae counters, "he even has a bruised face to prove it."
Sehyuk doesn't comment any further, just nodding his head and turning to the jjajangmyeon cup in his hand and eating from it. As strange as it may sound, he needed to confirm the rumor himself. So, he waits for Kang Kihyun to come find him.
Sehyuk discards his empty cup and bottle, throwing them in the trash bin and waving Jaemin farewell. He walks to his football practice, first doing some warm-up exercises and then getting onto the field.
"Since the team is set, we'll be having weekly matches among ourselves so we learn the blind spots and strengths of each player." Captain Namshin starts, folding his arms over his chest and flexing them. "Team A will be with me while Team B with our vice-captain." After a random selection of players, the boys stand in two rows.
"In a month, a test match with our neighboring universities will be held so I hope there will be improvement in our skills."
Sehyuk smiles at the way the captain keeps mentioning 'us' rather than addressing just the recruits. It's a leadership with making others feel equal and valid. Sport is not just about winning the game but also building trust with the team and helping each other grow. And Sehyuk can see why the students admire the senior. He stands tall yet unpretentious and brings the players together, with a commanding presence.
An hour passes by in practice and Sehyuk falls on the long bench in the locker room, wiping the dripping sweat off his body and changing into his casual clothes after taking a quick shower, spraying deodorant in the end. He takes his duffel bag with the football jerseys to wash them at home.
On the way out, Sehyuk's eyes find a mop of raven hair curled towards the corner of the bleachers. He squints but isn't able to get a good look at him so he makes his way to the boy, sitting down with a huff.
"Do you now understand my skills are crucial for the team and why I shouldn't give up my spot for you?" The transferee muses, "After all, I'm sure you've been watching the practice match from here."
"Are you a masochist that comes looking for trouble? Or are you too bored to live life in peace?" Kihyun snorts in a croaky voice, pulling his coat tightly over himself. And just like the journalist had said, someone's done a number to his face. A swollen and torn lower lip with a bruise forming over his left eye, leaving behind a hue of purplish-blue. "As you can see, I have had my dose of fist throwing today so I'm sorry to disappoint you but you aren't my punching bag for now."
Sehyuk notices the boy wearing the same clothes as yesterday's except for the long coat, of course. He couldn't believe Wonjae because he had seen Kihyun near Jaemin's house late at night, passed out on a bench. His face wasn't bruised then. "Here," he says passing a packet of first-aid. "That's a mean black eye, it'll scar if you don't apply ointment."
Kihyun blinks for a few seconds dumbfounded, then snorts, swatting his hand away. "What is it to you? Leave me alone."
Sehyuk doesn't falter at the action. He stands up and picks the packet up, placing it near Kihyun once again. "You know...we are similar in ways more than one. You'll understand it someday." He stops but then sighs. "And if you ever want to talk, you can come and find me."
"That's never happening, Min."
Sehyuk nods wordlessly. "Nice coat, Kang." He winks and leaves the football court.