{infinite; ot7} redemption (o1/?)
Title: redemption (1/?)
Fandom: infinite
Pairing: various
Word count: ~4800
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Lee Howon has long accepted his life as a Beta, at the bottom of South Korea's social class. However, the government gives him and his family an opportunity to join the Alpha class, through the Omega Plan at Sanghwan Academy, but this chance isn't as wonderful as it seems.
A/N: i have read the first paragraph of this fic so many times oh my god, what have i done to myself
also i do not deserve but i am very glad to have iliaccrests (the sunggyu to my woohyun) who has been holding my hand for such a long time she deserves an award or something ;_; and we've only just begun! this is definitely the biggest and hardest and most complicated story i have ever taken on, but i have the loveliest characters for this c:
i also apologize bcos hoya's older sister, hyojin, does not exist in this au; i thought 4 children would be too much. hojae (older) and hojun (younger) do exist but they probably wont play major parts! + age differences, hometowns, and other misc details do not hold in this au.
redemption
Lee Howon’s mother cries for a week after they receive the letter; the entire family has never seen something so fancy or expensive, with gold, embossed stationary and such an elaborate stamp that Howon’s younger brother refuses to let go after they hand him the envelope. However many times their son claimed the title of best in the class, however many times they lamented over having had birthed their children into the Beta class, Howon’s parents were afraid to hope that their second oldest son would classify into the “Second Chance Class” after their eldest’s birthday went by with no notice. The more children means the more chances, but more money needed to raise them all. At three, the Lee family was already pushing their tiny incomes.
As for Howon, he tapes the letter beside the handle of his bedroom door, so that he can see it every single time he leaves his room, for school, for meals, for work.
☬
Centuries ago, the government of South Korea decided to implement a social class system in a last attempt to save the failing economy, dividing the population into two: Alpha for the elite, the rich, the beautiful, and Beta for everybody else. In return for supplying money and power to the government, the Alpha class was allowed many special privileges while the Beta class were left struggling to keep their families afloat in poor, dirty conditions. However, as time passed, the situations became increasingly exaggerated, until the Alpha and Beta classes lived in completely different worlds.
Fighting to redeem itself and prevent the frustrated Beta class from revolting, the government decided to launch a plan to create a new class, named the Omega class. The best of the worst, the most promising and precocious of the Beta class would receive a letter when they turned seventeen, informing them of their acceptance into Sanghwan Academy, an Alpha school created and named “Redemption” exactly for this purpose. At the Academy, they would have the opportunity to receive the same education as an Alpha class child would--if they passed the exams at the end of their schooling, they could rise into the Alpha class with their families, shedding the dreaded symbol for the one they longed to adorn their necks instead. If they failed, they would be forced to return to their home as a Beta, just as horribly off as before, and fined a number so great for wasting their educations and opportunities their families could never dream to afford it.
Periodically through their lives, each citizen of the nation, old or young, was required to report to government-regulated tattoo shops to have their markings updated, whether the size needed to be adjusted according to age or the color required filling in, dark enough to be seen immediately. The simple symbols, based off the Greek alphabet, were placed right over the jugular vein on the left side of the neck, black and striking against pale skin. Members of the Alpha class, especially the women, tended to wear their hair short against the nape of their neck to show off their nobility, whereas the Betas hid the tattoo signifying their worthlessness with bowed heads and long, uncut hair. Omegas often cut their hair, usually right after they had the Beta tattoo burned off to make room for the Omega sign, boasting their special rise in ranking. Few exceptions made it unnecessary to constantly check what class one was in when they defined a person so greatly.
Some worked their way into the Omega class, some bought their way in after saving for generations. Some were blessed with enough good looks for the government to relent, others studied for nights on end without sleep to rank highest in school and seize prestigious awards despite their poor education, marking out the truly intelligent. Some families did their best to work their way to the top of their industries, knowing that they would be rewarded someday, some generation, some lucky child for the greater good.
☬
Howon stares up at the enormous building in a mixture of awe and fear. It is adorned in the same fashion as the letter, he notices at once. Even the gate is decorated lavishly, metal swirls twining to form the hangul for “sang-hwan,” the letters all too familiar from staring at the official crest on the letter so many times. The car he arrived at the Academy in was the smoothest, sleekest vehicle he has ever seen, the purr of the engine almost moan-worthy compared to the putting of the run-down car his parents use to go to work. But perhaps soon, he can get them one of those cars too.
Picking up his only suitcase, Howon follows a servant, judging by the bold mark of Beta on her neck, into the building’s Front Hall. The sight of her tattoo makes him touch his own one. The skin around the newly inked Omega is irritated and red, but it’s a small pain compared to the ones of the life he had when his tattoo matched hers.
“Wait here, please, Howon-sshi.”
No one else has arrived yet, giving Howon the freedom to stare unabashedly at the most luxury he has ever seen in his seventeen years of life. Everything inside the vast room demands his attention, from the elaborate porcelain flower vases and their tasteful bouquets to the velvet, gold-threaded couch he was directed onto. His head is tipped upward, taking in the masterpiece painted on the ceiling, when the voice of the Beta has him jerking upright in surprise. It’s difficult to secure these distinctions in his mind now, to remind himself that he is no longer a Beta as well.
He looks forward just in time to see another boy set down his own luggage, two large cases, and collapse onto the adjacent sofa with a groan of satisfaction, fingers instinctively reaching out to appreciate the rich fabric. “This is exactly what I was talking about,” he says smugly, propping his head up and noticing Howon for the first time. “Who are you?”
“Howon. Lee Howon,” Howon answers automatically, startled by the boy’s abrupt, almost abrasive manner.
“That’s a boring name, we’ll have to come up with something better for you. I’m Nam Woohyun.” Woohyun stands up and strides around the room almost as if he is inspecting it, his walk confident and comfortable. He isn’t like anybody Howon has ever met, his boldness clashing with the timidness and cowardice the Beta class is marked with as certainly as their tattoos. It probably has to do with his looks--Woohyun is undoubtedly one of the best-looking of his class he has ever seen as well, so much so that his promotion is completely unsurprising. The strong jawline, high-bridged nose, tall and lean stature are all such predominant characteristics of the Alpha class that Howon can see the tattoo on Woohyun’s neck already. When Woohyun turns around, even the slight frown of disdain is picture perfect. “Do you know who else will be here?”
“No,” Howon says honestly, but when the glossy doors opens again, Woohyun doesn’t need to reply.
“Wow, this place is really great,” a voice cries in delight, evidently impressed. A tall boy with wild, spiky hair of a sun-bleached blond bounds into the room, dumping his bags on the floor and spinning around rapidly on the spot with his arms flung out wide to try and see everything at once. “Yeah, thanks!” he shouts after the Beta servant leaves. She called him “Dongwoo-sshi,” Howon notes to himself.
Woohyun crosses his arms, rapidly recovering from the shock of this explosion into the silent room. “What are you doing?” he snaps scornfully.
When Dongwoo turns to look at him in surprise, Howon expects him to wilt at Woohyun’s harsh look, but the boy just tilts his head to the side with curious eyes. “You were once a Beta, too, right? Just before you came here? This place is the coolest place I’ve ever seen!” Dongwoo says brightly. “We weren’t that bad off at my home, but this stuff is really no joke.”
“Where are you from, anyways?” Howon can’t stop himself from asking over Woohyun’s indignant sputters. “Who are you?”
“I’m Jang Dongwoo, who are you?” Dongwoo returns, turning to face Howon on the other couch with a smile.
He’s never met anyone like Dongwoo either, all sunshine and energy compacted into an unusually muscular body--most Beta families barely have enough food to stay alive through the cruel winters; muscles for them are as rare as the desserts in the downtown bakery window that Howon and his brothers used to go walk the long way home just to see and imagine those delicacies in their hands, their stomachs. Even his personality is a rarity stamped out by life’s hardships. Howon decides to himself that Dongwoo must be stronger than he looks, to survive and be here today as the happiest person Howon has ever met.
“Jang Dongwoo?” interrupts Woohyun before Howon can reply to the question. “I know that name. Aren’t you the son of the man who owns the Jang Medicine Corporation? You’re the youngest person to qualify for the Seoul Doctorate Examinations in the last 50 years.”
Howon appraises Dongwoo with new eyes as the boy grins sheepishly, his own eyes disappearing away. “Yeah, that’s me. It’s what got me here, I guess.”
“What about you?” Woohyun asks abruptly, and it takes a second too long for Howon to realize he’s addressing him.
“M-Me?” he stutters.
“Yeah, who else is in the room?” Woohyun demands, staring at Howon as if he’s stupid. Dongwoo pulls curious eyes away from the porcelain-filled cabinet to Howon’s face, waiting for an answer as well.
“I’m just, I don’t know, a normal guy,” Howon says softly. “The best I’ve done is rank at the top of the local school for a few years. I study, I work. I take care of my siblings.” He’s beginning to realize it now, almost painfully, that he’s probably not supposed to be here. The Omega class is for people like Woohyun, extraordinarily attractive and fearless, or Dongwoo, intelligent and blazing and full of potential. What was the government thinking in picking him?
“Tch,” Woohyun scoffs, turning away as if looking at Howon and his simplicity will dirty him, but Dongwoo’s eyes continue to linger on him, the unquenchable curiosity now stronger than ever.
The doors open again, this time to reveal a slight boy tugging a shockingly pink suitcase behind him and asking straight off, “Which one of you is Dongwoo? Is he here yet?”
Confused, Dongwoo stands back up, raising a hand hesitantly into the air; Howon is impressed yet again when Dongwoo doesn’t flinch as the new boy flings himself toward him. “I’m Lee Sungjong, your new roommate!” he announces cheerily. “It’s really nice to meet you!”
“Hi!” Dongwoo says back, equally enthusiastically, taking the new arrival in stride. When Sungjong releases him, Howon can tell, once again, why the boy is here. His hair, dyed a rich red that obviously isn’t his natural hair color, frames a gently angled face, set with pretty eyes, a small nose, and and rather delicate, pink lips. His features clash with his strong jawline yet work all the same. He may look feminine, but there’s no doubting he’s beautiful as well. The wiry, slender body he has is skinnier than some of the girls Howon knows, swallowed up by a grey sweater that somehow emphasizes his tiny build, yet the color in his cheeks contrast with the idea of being unfed.
“There was another car pulling up to the front when I got here, I think someone else is getting here really soon,” Sungjong says, still clinging to Dongwoo’s side and resting his head on the other’s shoulder as if they’ve known each other for their entire lives. Only the ones who have lived a safe life are so comfortable with strangers. Howon wouldn’t dare snuggle up to anybody like that, though Dongwoo and his open smile would be his first choice.
“Did you see who it is?” Woohyun asks, and Sungjong shakes his head. They only wait a few more minutes until the doors open again, and Howon suppresses a sigh at yet another gorgeous boy walking through. This boy nods to the Beta, sets his things down at the other end of the couch Woohyun has claimed (though Woohyun does not protest now, scrutinizing his face with something like acceptance). “What’s your name?”
“Kim Myungsoo.” His voice is deep, his eyes cold and expressionless. Howon can’t get a grip on him. He’s tall and well-dressed, the dress shirt hugging his broad shoulders with a skinny tie to match, black hair cut modestly and face smooth. It’s evident in his straight posture and almost intimidating aura of self-confidence that he was raised in the best part of their class, maybe better. Yet his face gives nothing else more about him, a blank sheet of paper in contrast to the colors streaking across Howon’s impressions of all the others.
Sungjong gives him a look of interest before piping up, “I think there are two people left, then. Kim Sunggyu and Lee Sungyeol.”
“I've heard of Sunggyu,” says Dongwoo thoughtfully. “He’s a musical genius. Perfect pitch, flexible fingers, but he takes it to the next level in his compositions. It’s hard to explain. He writes something called contemporary-classical, something never been heard of before? Rumor has it that his ears are the best for the past century, and he has the raw talent that makes him incredibly valuable despite his class. I’ve listened to his music before, it’s just amazing.”
“What about Lee Sungyeol?” Woohyun asks.
“Never heard of him.”
When Sunggyu arrives, his appearance is slightly disappointing compared to his reputation, modestly dressed and his speech polite, if not slightly awkward. But Howon appraises the gentle curves of his broad shoulders, the long, pianist fingers instinctively drumming out a staccato beat on his knee when he sits on the couch between Woohyun and Myungsoo, and thinks he’ll like Sunggyu too.
Dongwoo and Sungjong strike up a conversation to fill the silence as they wait for the last of their number to arrive. Howon listens to them for lack of anything better to do, but if the hall were filled with people speaking, he would pick them to listen to anyways. Dongwoo speaks willingly and colors every word with excitement and emotion, wearing his heart on his sleeve, and needs little prompting to ramble. Paired with Sungjong’s instinctively talkative personality, their casual conversation flows quickly and easily. Howon finds himself jealous, his lack of courage and shy, withdrawn personality keeping him from wandering over and joining in fear of being rejected or excluded, even by the most open of the boys assembled. Meanwhile, Myungsoo avoids all eyes, gazing flatly away from the others, as Woohyun goes back to evaluating the room. Sunggyu closes his eyes.
The gilded grandfather clock sounds, loud deep bass dongs that reverberate around the room and straight into Howon’s chest, announcing noon; he notices he’s extremely hungry, but doesn’t dare say anything about it. It’s not his place to ask for things. The Beta servant returns with an announcement. “The Minister will be here shortly to speak to you all.” She quickly counts them, her eyes darting from person to person perched on the couches, and lets a frown of surprise slip before disappearing out the door.
When the doors open again, it’s not the seventh of their number, but rather a trimly dressed, middle aged man with an air of importance yet benevolence: Lee Juho, the Minister of Education, Science, and Technology, the man completely in charge of the Redemption Program. At once, Howon knows that this person is not to be crossed, not when he holds such a tight grip of all of their lives and futures, as well as those of their family. He paces in front of them a few times, back and forth, and smiled benignly at them to relieve the tense atmosphere. “The Omega Class,” he said simply. “Or, for some of you, the Second Chance Class.” His eyes lingers on each one of them; it’s a direct gaze that makes Howon want to flinch away, but he meets it evenly until the Minister moves onto Dongwoo.
“You are all here, for one reason or another, because you are gifted with an Alpha-rate ability, be it your face or brain, but born into the wrong class. You are all conscious, I’m sure, of the two outcomes that can result from your edu--”
“Sorry! I’m here! I’m so sorry!” someone gasps, crashing into the room and waving his hand around as if everyone isn’t looking at him already. When he notices he’s last and late, and had just interrupted the Minister, he flushes and drops his hand. “S-Sorry.”
The Minister frowns at him. “Are you Lee Sungyeol?”
“Y-Yes, sir,” Sungyeol stutters, red with shame. He’s obviously the tallest out of all of them, but otherwise his simple face and awkward manner marks him down to the class he belongs in. But Howon knows better to judge on appearance with Sunggyu and Dongwoo in the room; he’s already curious to find out what’s so special about their newest addition.
The others, however, aren’t so keen. Woohyun is blatantly scowling at him; for him, Howon realizes, excellence is the only currency, and when it’s obvious one lacks in both, he’ll have nothing to do with him. Even Sunggyu is frowning in disapproval, and the Minister coughs uncomfortably, the flow of his speech broken.
Flustered, Sungyeol finds a seat next to Howon, who knows better than to talk to him now. He looks up at the Minister, gazes leave his mortified face, and the Minister continues speaking. At first it’s nothing Howon doesn’t know, being so conscious to the difference between classes in the short time he’s been at the Academy, but then the Minister continues into their living conditions and lessons. “You’ll live in the dorms, with roommates. If one of you shows particular improvement, you can be considered an upgrade, but otherwise these rooms are fixed. We have Alpha-rate teachers here to educate you, and you will be expected to study and work hard despite your talents, or else we would have put the Alpha tattoo on your neck instead of the Omega.
“We pay for everything here for you all at Sanghwan Academy: meals, dorms, classes. But only if you succeed--if you can pass our final exams, you’ll be promoted to the Alpha Class along with your family, and live one of our lives. If you fail, however, you’ll be responsible for paying back every single penny.”
Howon balks at the thought of all the money he would owe and resolves to work hard. There’s no way he could turn down such an amazing chance, but the stakes are too high to risk. And then he thinks of his little brother shivering in scraps of clothing that has gone through two other boys before him instead of having thick sweaters and proper shoes; he thinks of his mother working her calloused hands instead of softening them with rich creams, his father slaving away for inhumane hours instead of staying home on the weekends to put his feet up and relax for once. He’ll do the best he possibly can and just hope the potential the government picked him for really exists.
☬
When the Minister is done speaking, leaving immediately in a black limousine, the seven of them are led into a wing of dorms designated for them. At the size of the massive building, Howon is confused that they are being paired up for rooms until he sees the inside of one: it isn't that he could easily fit his five-member family's house inside of it, it's that the two-person suite is double the size of his entire house, with a fortune in accessories from the furniture to the materials that adorn every surface. Howon carefully places his battered bag onto the plush carpet and reaches out to touch the marble counter.
"Lee Howon?"
He starts the sound of his name, withdrawing his hand sharply. Twisting around to see the speaker, indisputably a man from the voice, Howon feels his heart sink when he quickly recognizes who is to be his roommate. "Y-Yes, that's me," he says, swallowing. "You're Myungsoo?"
Myungsoo nods, setting his two cases on the floor and pushing them under the bed. To his discomfort, Howon quickly discovers Myungsoo isn't much for conversation. If Dongwoo had been his roommate, that would have been easier, or even opinionated Woohyun or clumsy Sungyeol to talk at him the whole time, but Howon received the most distant and different person of the seven. Only manners keep him from sighing out loud.
"Howon, do you know how to connect to the internet?"
"What?" Howon asks in confusion. Myungsoo beckons him over to his desk, turning the screen of a sleek, silver laptop towards him.
"It says I need a security password but they didn't give me one. Do you know it?" Myungsoo asks, looking at him expectantly.
Howon pauses, then shakes his head. When Myungsoo turns away from him, he decides it's probably a bad idea to ask if he can touch Myungsoo's computer; he's never seen such a clean, sharp machine before, but his roommate doesn't have to know that--if it weren't for the familiar sight of a glowing screen, he would have never matched them to the huge block-like computers the school office used back at home. It's a beautiful thing, with black keys, a simple mouse pad, and swirls decorating the frame of the screen to keep it from looking too plain. At the sight of it, that nagging discomfort in the back of Howon's mind morphs into the realization that there were terrifyingly large gaps within his own social class he had never seen before--that he has been at the bottom of the bottom all his life.
He turns back to unpacking his things, while Myungsoo ignores his in favor of sitting at his computer, fingers typing with an astounding speed, until the bell announcing dinner rings. Only a few minutes pass before there's a sharp, impatient knock on the door, a voice calling, "Yo, Kim Myungsoo! Let's go!"
Myungsoo rolls his eyes but stands to open the door, greeting Woohyun with a nod. The other boy has already changed clothes, now decked in a thin, yarn sweater that drapes over his broad frame but thins out at his shoulders, exposing smooth skin interrupted by tangles of black threads, veins streaking down muscular arms. This time, the muscle is expected, as well as the gel in his hair to keep the brown locks from falling into his eyes and enunciate his sharp features; Nam Woohyun is gorgeous, and he knows it. To Howon's surprise, Myungsoo seems not to care, leaving with Woohyun in the direction of the cafeteria. Neither of them spare a glance toward Howon.
Unsure what to do but undoubtedly hungry, Howon pulls on his threadbare jacket and makes sure he still has his room key before heading down to dinner too. He can see Woohyun and Myungsoo ahead of him, Woohyun's arm slung over Myungsoo's shoulders like they've known each other all their lives, and it's shocking, almost offensive, how drastically different he treats people just by their looks. Howon makes no effort to run forward and catch up to them, knowing that if Woohyun had approved of him, he would have invited him along in the first place. The thought, however, of being an outcast here at Sanghwan Academy makes Howon's heart sink.
"Hey, you!" someone calls behind him, laughter in his voice. Howon can't help but glance back, his breath catching at the bright smile that greets him. "Wait up!"
Howon waits obediently, shoving trembling fingers into his pockets as Dongwoo and Sungjong join him. He falls into step with them once they reach him, lingering at Dongwoo's left while Sungjong continues to cling to Dongwoo's right arm. The ease in which they touch makes Howon's chest tighten, as casual as Woohyun but so friendly and genuine Howon has to force himself to look forward.
"You never told me what your name was," Dongwoo reminds Howon, and nudges Sungjong in the ribs when the dainty boy opens his mouth, getting a pout in return.
"L-Lee Howon," he stutters. There's something in the way Dongwoo looks straight into his eyes, open and waiting, when he talks to him, something that makes Howon's voice die in his throat.
Peeking from the other side of Dongwoo, Sungjong tilts his head to the side and purses his lips. "I've never heard of you, and I know practically everyone here."
"I--I'm nothing special," Howon says softly. He'd be surprised if Sungjong had heard of him, seeing as he had never left his little village until he had received his letter for Sanghwan. Now that he's left it, he knows that he's out of his league; while life before was hard, at least he was surrounded by the people who loved him. Instead of painstakingly patched up walls and creaky doors, he's surrounded by marble and cashmere and gold, by masterpieces on the ceilings and plush carpeting under his feet.
"I know everyone, though," Sungjong frowns, but he lets go of the topic because they've reached the dining hall. The carpeting gives way to polished tiles as they enter the room, and Howon's eyes are immediately caught by what seems like an endless amount of food.
"Oh, good, a buffet," Dongwoo says, looking at the food stations as well, and the general lack of surprise at the most food he has ever seen in his life makes Howon hurry to conceal his own. He turns to the other half of the vast room, seeing Woohyun and Myungsoo already seated at one of the long tables, Sunggyu sitting across from them. Their table is the farthest of the three, and the middle one is almost completely filled of its seven occupants while the first is much emptier, with only two people.
By the time Howon realizes he has yet to get his food, Dongwoo and Sungjong are already at the end of the row, plates full and, surprisingly, waiting for him. He hurriedly follows in suit, carefully picking a little bit of everything because he's never seen any of it before, and then they go to sit down.
As they pass the first table, neither of the two look up, but several do from the second table, friendly smiles and even a wave from a boy with blond hair and cute features that make his Omega status as obvious as Sungjong's. The reception is nowhere as friendly at their own table, where Woohyun is busy talking at Myungsoo, who nods along uninterestedly, and Sunggyu is eating without paying attention to either of them. Howon is amazed when Dongwoo sits right next to Woohyun, who glances at him but does not protest, and Sungjong sits right next to him, leaving Howon to sit across from them. When Sunggyu looks up, Howon gives him a hesitant smile, which Sunggyu returns with a nod.
Nothing much happens until Sungyeol arrives, out of breath and annoyed, putting his food down with a clatter. Woohyun's head snaps up, glaring, and Myungsoo rolls his eyes. "God, you wouldn't believe who I got as my roommate," Woohyun says loudly, not even trying to keep his voice down.
Sungyeol scowls back immediately from Howon's other side, the only seat left. "It's not like I asked to be paired with you either."
"I mean, out of all these people?" Woohyun snarks, and Sungyeol bristles.
"I'd take anyone except for you as my roommate too, just so you know," Sungyeol bites back, stabbing into a piece of meat violently.
They fight for the rest of the meal. Myungsoo tolerates it, already long-suffering, as Sunggyu muses over rhythms he taps out against the table after he's done eating, while Dongwoo and Sungjong continue their conversation with Howon listening in. By the time he's done eating, Howon has a stomachache to go with his headache, and he excuses himself to retreat back to his room first.
The toothpaste in the bathroom is more bitter than the one he's used to at home, and sleep comes with a restless difficulty that night despite how tired he is. Howon knows aching muscles all too well, but in this world, it's his mind that wears out first.
Fandom: infinite
Pairing: various
Word count: ~4800
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Lee Howon has long accepted his life as a Beta, at the bottom of South Korea's social class. However, the government gives him and his family an opportunity to join the Alpha class, through the Omega Plan at Sanghwan Academy, but this chance isn't as wonderful as it seems.
A/N: i have read the first paragraph of this fic so many times oh my god, what have i done to myself
also i do not deserve but i am very glad to have iliaccrests (the sunggyu to my woohyun) who has been holding my hand for such a long time she deserves an award or something ;_; and we've only just begun! this is definitely the biggest and hardest and most complicated story i have ever taken on, but i have the loveliest characters for this c:
i also apologize bcos hoya's older sister, hyojin, does not exist in this au; i thought 4 children would be too much. hojae (older) and hojun (younger) do exist but they probably wont play major parts! + age differences, hometowns, and other misc details do not hold in this au.
redemption
Lee Howon’s mother cries for a week after they receive the letter; the entire family has never seen something so fancy or expensive, with gold, embossed stationary and such an elaborate stamp that Howon’s younger brother refuses to let go after they hand him the envelope. However many times their son claimed the title of best in the class, however many times they lamented over having had birthed their children into the Beta class, Howon’s parents were afraid to hope that their second oldest son would classify into the “Second Chance Class” after their eldest’s birthday went by with no notice. The more children means the more chances, but more money needed to raise them all. At three, the Lee family was already pushing their tiny incomes.
As for Howon, he tapes the letter beside the handle of his bedroom door, so that he can see it every single time he leaves his room, for school, for meals, for work.
☬
Centuries ago, the government of South Korea decided to implement a social class system in a last attempt to save the failing economy, dividing the population into two: Alpha for the elite, the rich, the beautiful, and Beta for everybody else. In return for supplying money and power to the government, the Alpha class was allowed many special privileges while the Beta class were left struggling to keep their families afloat in poor, dirty conditions. However, as time passed, the situations became increasingly exaggerated, until the Alpha and Beta classes lived in completely different worlds.
Fighting to redeem itself and prevent the frustrated Beta class from revolting, the government decided to launch a plan to create a new class, named the Omega class. The best of the worst, the most promising and precocious of the Beta class would receive a letter when they turned seventeen, informing them of their acceptance into Sanghwan Academy, an Alpha school created and named “Redemption” exactly for this purpose. At the Academy, they would have the opportunity to receive the same education as an Alpha class child would--if they passed the exams at the end of their schooling, they could rise into the Alpha class with their families, shedding the dreaded symbol for the one they longed to adorn their necks instead. If they failed, they would be forced to return to their home as a Beta, just as horribly off as before, and fined a number so great for wasting their educations and opportunities their families could never dream to afford it.
Periodically through their lives, each citizen of the nation, old or young, was required to report to government-regulated tattoo shops to have their markings updated, whether the size needed to be adjusted according to age or the color required filling in, dark enough to be seen immediately. The simple symbols, based off the Greek alphabet, were placed right over the jugular vein on the left side of the neck, black and striking against pale skin. Members of the Alpha class, especially the women, tended to wear their hair short against the nape of their neck to show off their nobility, whereas the Betas hid the tattoo signifying their worthlessness with bowed heads and long, uncut hair. Omegas often cut their hair, usually right after they had the Beta tattoo burned off to make room for the Omega sign, boasting their special rise in ranking. Few exceptions made it unnecessary to constantly check what class one was in when they defined a person so greatly.
Some worked their way into the Omega class, some bought their way in after saving for generations. Some were blessed with enough good looks for the government to relent, others studied for nights on end without sleep to rank highest in school and seize prestigious awards despite their poor education, marking out the truly intelligent. Some families did their best to work their way to the top of their industries, knowing that they would be rewarded someday, some generation, some lucky child for the greater good.
☬
Howon stares up at the enormous building in a mixture of awe and fear. It is adorned in the same fashion as the letter, he notices at once. Even the gate is decorated lavishly, metal swirls twining to form the hangul for “sang-hwan,” the letters all too familiar from staring at the official crest on the letter so many times. The car he arrived at the Academy in was the smoothest, sleekest vehicle he has ever seen, the purr of the engine almost moan-worthy compared to the putting of the run-down car his parents use to go to work. But perhaps soon, he can get them one of those cars too.
Picking up his only suitcase, Howon follows a servant, judging by the bold mark of Beta on her neck, into the building’s Front Hall. The sight of her tattoo makes him touch his own one. The skin around the newly inked Omega is irritated and red, but it’s a small pain compared to the ones of the life he had when his tattoo matched hers.
“Wait here, please, Howon-sshi.”
No one else has arrived yet, giving Howon the freedom to stare unabashedly at the most luxury he has ever seen in his seventeen years of life. Everything inside the vast room demands his attention, from the elaborate porcelain flower vases and their tasteful bouquets to the velvet, gold-threaded couch he was directed onto. His head is tipped upward, taking in the masterpiece painted on the ceiling, when the voice of the Beta has him jerking upright in surprise. It’s difficult to secure these distinctions in his mind now, to remind himself that he is no longer a Beta as well.
He looks forward just in time to see another boy set down his own luggage, two large cases, and collapse onto the adjacent sofa with a groan of satisfaction, fingers instinctively reaching out to appreciate the rich fabric. “This is exactly what I was talking about,” he says smugly, propping his head up and noticing Howon for the first time. “Who are you?”
“Howon. Lee Howon,” Howon answers automatically, startled by the boy’s abrupt, almost abrasive manner.
“That’s a boring name, we’ll have to come up with something better for you. I’m Nam Woohyun.” Woohyun stands up and strides around the room almost as if he is inspecting it, his walk confident and comfortable. He isn’t like anybody Howon has ever met, his boldness clashing with the timidness and cowardice the Beta class is marked with as certainly as their tattoos. It probably has to do with his looks--Woohyun is undoubtedly one of the best-looking of his class he has ever seen as well, so much so that his promotion is completely unsurprising. The strong jawline, high-bridged nose, tall and lean stature are all such predominant characteristics of the Alpha class that Howon can see the tattoo on Woohyun’s neck already. When Woohyun turns around, even the slight frown of disdain is picture perfect. “Do you know who else will be here?”
“No,” Howon says honestly, but when the glossy doors opens again, Woohyun doesn’t need to reply.
“Wow, this place is really great,” a voice cries in delight, evidently impressed. A tall boy with wild, spiky hair of a sun-bleached blond bounds into the room, dumping his bags on the floor and spinning around rapidly on the spot with his arms flung out wide to try and see everything at once. “Yeah, thanks!” he shouts after the Beta servant leaves. She called him “Dongwoo-sshi,” Howon notes to himself.
Woohyun crosses his arms, rapidly recovering from the shock of this explosion into the silent room. “What are you doing?” he snaps scornfully.
When Dongwoo turns to look at him in surprise, Howon expects him to wilt at Woohyun’s harsh look, but the boy just tilts his head to the side with curious eyes. “You were once a Beta, too, right? Just before you came here? This place is the coolest place I’ve ever seen!” Dongwoo says brightly. “We weren’t that bad off at my home, but this stuff is really no joke.”
“Where are you from, anyways?” Howon can’t stop himself from asking over Woohyun’s indignant sputters. “Who are you?”
“I’m Jang Dongwoo, who are you?” Dongwoo returns, turning to face Howon on the other couch with a smile.
He’s never met anyone like Dongwoo either, all sunshine and energy compacted into an unusually muscular body--most Beta families barely have enough food to stay alive through the cruel winters; muscles for them are as rare as the desserts in the downtown bakery window that Howon and his brothers used to go walk the long way home just to see and imagine those delicacies in their hands, their stomachs. Even his personality is a rarity stamped out by life’s hardships. Howon decides to himself that Dongwoo must be stronger than he looks, to survive and be here today as the happiest person Howon has ever met.
“Jang Dongwoo?” interrupts Woohyun before Howon can reply to the question. “I know that name. Aren’t you the son of the man who owns the Jang Medicine Corporation? You’re the youngest person to qualify for the Seoul Doctorate Examinations in the last 50 years.”
Howon appraises Dongwoo with new eyes as the boy grins sheepishly, his own eyes disappearing away. “Yeah, that’s me. It’s what got me here, I guess.”
“What about you?” Woohyun asks abruptly, and it takes a second too long for Howon to realize he’s addressing him.
“M-Me?” he stutters.
“Yeah, who else is in the room?” Woohyun demands, staring at Howon as if he’s stupid. Dongwoo pulls curious eyes away from the porcelain-filled cabinet to Howon’s face, waiting for an answer as well.
“I’m just, I don’t know, a normal guy,” Howon says softly. “The best I’ve done is rank at the top of the local school for a few years. I study, I work. I take care of my siblings.” He’s beginning to realize it now, almost painfully, that he’s probably not supposed to be here. The Omega class is for people like Woohyun, extraordinarily attractive and fearless, or Dongwoo, intelligent and blazing and full of potential. What was the government thinking in picking him?
“Tch,” Woohyun scoffs, turning away as if looking at Howon and his simplicity will dirty him, but Dongwoo’s eyes continue to linger on him, the unquenchable curiosity now stronger than ever.
The doors open again, this time to reveal a slight boy tugging a shockingly pink suitcase behind him and asking straight off, “Which one of you is Dongwoo? Is he here yet?”
Confused, Dongwoo stands back up, raising a hand hesitantly into the air; Howon is impressed yet again when Dongwoo doesn’t flinch as the new boy flings himself toward him. “I’m Lee Sungjong, your new roommate!” he announces cheerily. “It’s really nice to meet you!”
“Hi!” Dongwoo says back, equally enthusiastically, taking the new arrival in stride. When Sungjong releases him, Howon can tell, once again, why the boy is here. His hair, dyed a rich red that obviously isn’t his natural hair color, frames a gently angled face, set with pretty eyes, a small nose, and and rather delicate, pink lips. His features clash with his strong jawline yet work all the same. He may look feminine, but there’s no doubting he’s beautiful as well. The wiry, slender body he has is skinnier than some of the girls Howon knows, swallowed up by a grey sweater that somehow emphasizes his tiny build, yet the color in his cheeks contrast with the idea of being unfed.
“There was another car pulling up to the front when I got here, I think someone else is getting here really soon,” Sungjong says, still clinging to Dongwoo’s side and resting his head on the other’s shoulder as if they’ve known each other for their entire lives. Only the ones who have lived a safe life are so comfortable with strangers. Howon wouldn’t dare snuggle up to anybody like that, though Dongwoo and his open smile would be his first choice.
“Did you see who it is?” Woohyun asks, and Sungjong shakes his head. They only wait a few more minutes until the doors open again, and Howon suppresses a sigh at yet another gorgeous boy walking through. This boy nods to the Beta, sets his things down at the other end of the couch Woohyun has claimed (though Woohyun does not protest now, scrutinizing his face with something like acceptance). “What’s your name?”
“Kim Myungsoo.” His voice is deep, his eyes cold and expressionless. Howon can’t get a grip on him. He’s tall and well-dressed, the dress shirt hugging his broad shoulders with a skinny tie to match, black hair cut modestly and face smooth. It’s evident in his straight posture and almost intimidating aura of self-confidence that he was raised in the best part of their class, maybe better. Yet his face gives nothing else more about him, a blank sheet of paper in contrast to the colors streaking across Howon’s impressions of all the others.
Sungjong gives him a look of interest before piping up, “I think there are two people left, then. Kim Sunggyu and Lee Sungyeol.”
“I've heard of Sunggyu,” says Dongwoo thoughtfully. “He’s a musical genius. Perfect pitch, flexible fingers, but he takes it to the next level in his compositions. It’s hard to explain. He writes something called contemporary-classical, something never been heard of before? Rumor has it that his ears are the best for the past century, and he has the raw talent that makes him incredibly valuable despite his class. I’ve listened to his music before, it’s just amazing.”
“What about Lee Sungyeol?” Woohyun asks.
“Never heard of him.”
When Sunggyu arrives, his appearance is slightly disappointing compared to his reputation, modestly dressed and his speech polite, if not slightly awkward. But Howon appraises the gentle curves of his broad shoulders, the long, pianist fingers instinctively drumming out a staccato beat on his knee when he sits on the couch between Woohyun and Myungsoo, and thinks he’ll like Sunggyu too.
Dongwoo and Sungjong strike up a conversation to fill the silence as they wait for the last of their number to arrive. Howon listens to them for lack of anything better to do, but if the hall were filled with people speaking, he would pick them to listen to anyways. Dongwoo speaks willingly and colors every word with excitement and emotion, wearing his heart on his sleeve, and needs little prompting to ramble. Paired with Sungjong’s instinctively talkative personality, their casual conversation flows quickly and easily. Howon finds himself jealous, his lack of courage and shy, withdrawn personality keeping him from wandering over and joining in fear of being rejected or excluded, even by the most open of the boys assembled. Meanwhile, Myungsoo avoids all eyes, gazing flatly away from the others, as Woohyun goes back to evaluating the room. Sunggyu closes his eyes.
The gilded grandfather clock sounds, loud deep bass dongs that reverberate around the room and straight into Howon’s chest, announcing noon; he notices he’s extremely hungry, but doesn’t dare say anything about it. It’s not his place to ask for things. The Beta servant returns with an announcement. “The Minister will be here shortly to speak to you all.” She quickly counts them, her eyes darting from person to person perched on the couches, and lets a frown of surprise slip before disappearing out the door.
When the doors open again, it’s not the seventh of their number, but rather a trimly dressed, middle aged man with an air of importance yet benevolence: Lee Juho, the Minister of Education, Science, and Technology, the man completely in charge of the Redemption Program. At once, Howon knows that this person is not to be crossed, not when he holds such a tight grip of all of their lives and futures, as well as those of their family. He paces in front of them a few times, back and forth, and smiled benignly at them to relieve the tense atmosphere. “The Omega Class,” he said simply. “Or, for some of you, the Second Chance Class.” His eyes lingers on each one of them; it’s a direct gaze that makes Howon want to flinch away, but he meets it evenly until the Minister moves onto Dongwoo.
“You are all here, for one reason or another, because you are gifted with an Alpha-rate ability, be it your face or brain, but born into the wrong class. You are all conscious, I’m sure, of the two outcomes that can result from your edu--”
“Sorry! I’m here! I’m so sorry!” someone gasps, crashing into the room and waving his hand around as if everyone isn’t looking at him already. When he notices he’s last and late, and had just interrupted the Minister, he flushes and drops his hand. “S-Sorry.”
The Minister frowns at him. “Are you Lee Sungyeol?”
“Y-Yes, sir,” Sungyeol stutters, red with shame. He’s obviously the tallest out of all of them, but otherwise his simple face and awkward manner marks him down to the class he belongs in. But Howon knows better to judge on appearance with Sunggyu and Dongwoo in the room; he’s already curious to find out what’s so special about their newest addition.
The others, however, aren’t so keen. Woohyun is blatantly scowling at him; for him, Howon realizes, excellence is the only currency, and when it’s obvious one lacks in both, he’ll have nothing to do with him. Even Sunggyu is frowning in disapproval, and the Minister coughs uncomfortably, the flow of his speech broken.
Flustered, Sungyeol finds a seat next to Howon, who knows better than to talk to him now. He looks up at the Minister, gazes leave his mortified face, and the Minister continues speaking. At first it’s nothing Howon doesn’t know, being so conscious to the difference between classes in the short time he’s been at the Academy, but then the Minister continues into their living conditions and lessons. “You’ll live in the dorms, with roommates. If one of you shows particular improvement, you can be considered an upgrade, but otherwise these rooms are fixed. We have Alpha-rate teachers here to educate you, and you will be expected to study and work hard despite your talents, or else we would have put the Alpha tattoo on your neck instead of the Omega.
“We pay for everything here for you all at Sanghwan Academy: meals, dorms, classes. But only if you succeed--if you can pass our final exams, you’ll be promoted to the Alpha Class along with your family, and live one of our lives. If you fail, however, you’ll be responsible for paying back every single penny.”
Howon balks at the thought of all the money he would owe and resolves to work hard. There’s no way he could turn down such an amazing chance, but the stakes are too high to risk. And then he thinks of his little brother shivering in scraps of clothing that has gone through two other boys before him instead of having thick sweaters and proper shoes; he thinks of his mother working her calloused hands instead of softening them with rich creams, his father slaving away for inhumane hours instead of staying home on the weekends to put his feet up and relax for once. He’ll do the best he possibly can and just hope the potential the government picked him for really exists.
☬
When the Minister is done speaking, leaving immediately in a black limousine, the seven of them are led into a wing of dorms designated for them. At the size of the massive building, Howon is confused that they are being paired up for rooms until he sees the inside of one: it isn't that he could easily fit his five-member family's house inside of it, it's that the two-person suite is double the size of his entire house, with a fortune in accessories from the furniture to the materials that adorn every surface. Howon carefully places his battered bag onto the plush carpet and reaches out to touch the marble counter.
"Lee Howon?"
He starts the sound of his name, withdrawing his hand sharply. Twisting around to see the speaker, indisputably a man from the voice, Howon feels his heart sink when he quickly recognizes who is to be his roommate. "Y-Yes, that's me," he says, swallowing. "You're Myungsoo?"
Myungsoo nods, setting his two cases on the floor and pushing them under the bed. To his discomfort, Howon quickly discovers Myungsoo isn't much for conversation. If Dongwoo had been his roommate, that would have been easier, or even opinionated Woohyun or clumsy Sungyeol to talk at him the whole time, but Howon received the most distant and different person of the seven. Only manners keep him from sighing out loud.
"Howon, do you know how to connect to the internet?"
"What?" Howon asks in confusion. Myungsoo beckons him over to his desk, turning the screen of a sleek, silver laptop towards him.
"It says I need a security password but they didn't give me one. Do you know it?" Myungsoo asks, looking at him expectantly.
Howon pauses, then shakes his head. When Myungsoo turns away from him, he decides it's probably a bad idea to ask if he can touch Myungsoo's computer; he's never seen such a clean, sharp machine before, but his roommate doesn't have to know that--if it weren't for the familiar sight of a glowing screen, he would have never matched them to the huge block-like computers the school office used back at home. It's a beautiful thing, with black keys, a simple mouse pad, and swirls decorating the frame of the screen to keep it from looking too plain. At the sight of it, that nagging discomfort in the back of Howon's mind morphs into the realization that there were terrifyingly large gaps within his own social class he had never seen before--that he has been at the bottom of the bottom all his life.
He turns back to unpacking his things, while Myungsoo ignores his in favor of sitting at his computer, fingers typing with an astounding speed, until the bell announcing dinner rings. Only a few minutes pass before there's a sharp, impatient knock on the door, a voice calling, "Yo, Kim Myungsoo! Let's go!"
Myungsoo rolls his eyes but stands to open the door, greeting Woohyun with a nod. The other boy has already changed clothes, now decked in a thin, yarn sweater that drapes over his broad frame but thins out at his shoulders, exposing smooth skin interrupted by tangles of black threads, veins streaking down muscular arms. This time, the muscle is expected, as well as the gel in his hair to keep the brown locks from falling into his eyes and enunciate his sharp features; Nam Woohyun is gorgeous, and he knows it. To Howon's surprise, Myungsoo seems not to care, leaving with Woohyun in the direction of the cafeteria. Neither of them spare a glance toward Howon.
Unsure what to do but undoubtedly hungry, Howon pulls on his threadbare jacket and makes sure he still has his room key before heading down to dinner too. He can see Woohyun and Myungsoo ahead of him, Woohyun's arm slung over Myungsoo's shoulders like they've known each other all their lives, and it's shocking, almost offensive, how drastically different he treats people just by their looks. Howon makes no effort to run forward and catch up to them, knowing that if Woohyun had approved of him, he would have invited him along in the first place. The thought, however, of being an outcast here at Sanghwan Academy makes Howon's heart sink.
"Hey, you!" someone calls behind him, laughter in his voice. Howon can't help but glance back, his breath catching at the bright smile that greets him. "Wait up!"
Howon waits obediently, shoving trembling fingers into his pockets as Dongwoo and Sungjong join him. He falls into step with them once they reach him, lingering at Dongwoo's left while Sungjong continues to cling to Dongwoo's right arm. The ease in which they touch makes Howon's chest tighten, as casual as Woohyun but so friendly and genuine Howon has to force himself to look forward.
"You never told me what your name was," Dongwoo reminds Howon, and nudges Sungjong in the ribs when the dainty boy opens his mouth, getting a pout in return.
"L-Lee Howon," he stutters. There's something in the way Dongwoo looks straight into his eyes, open and waiting, when he talks to him, something that makes Howon's voice die in his throat.
Peeking from the other side of Dongwoo, Sungjong tilts his head to the side and purses his lips. "I've never heard of you, and I know practically everyone here."
"I--I'm nothing special," Howon says softly. He'd be surprised if Sungjong had heard of him, seeing as he had never left his little village until he had received his letter for Sanghwan. Now that he's left it, he knows that he's out of his league; while life before was hard, at least he was surrounded by the people who loved him. Instead of painstakingly patched up walls and creaky doors, he's surrounded by marble and cashmere and gold, by masterpieces on the ceilings and plush carpeting under his feet.
"I know everyone, though," Sungjong frowns, but he lets go of the topic because they've reached the dining hall. The carpeting gives way to polished tiles as they enter the room, and Howon's eyes are immediately caught by what seems like an endless amount of food.
"Oh, good, a buffet," Dongwoo says, looking at the food stations as well, and the general lack of surprise at the most food he has ever seen in his life makes Howon hurry to conceal his own. He turns to the other half of the vast room, seeing Woohyun and Myungsoo already seated at one of the long tables, Sunggyu sitting across from them. Their table is the farthest of the three, and the middle one is almost completely filled of its seven occupants while the first is much emptier, with only two people.
By the time Howon realizes he has yet to get his food, Dongwoo and Sungjong are already at the end of the row, plates full and, surprisingly, waiting for him. He hurriedly follows in suit, carefully picking a little bit of everything because he's never seen any of it before, and then they go to sit down.
As they pass the first table, neither of the two look up, but several do from the second table, friendly smiles and even a wave from a boy with blond hair and cute features that make his Omega status as obvious as Sungjong's. The reception is nowhere as friendly at their own table, where Woohyun is busy talking at Myungsoo, who nods along uninterestedly, and Sunggyu is eating without paying attention to either of them. Howon is amazed when Dongwoo sits right next to Woohyun, who glances at him but does not protest, and Sungjong sits right next to him, leaving Howon to sit across from them. When Sunggyu looks up, Howon gives him a hesitant smile, which Sunggyu returns with a nod.
Nothing much happens until Sungyeol arrives, out of breath and annoyed, putting his food down with a clatter. Woohyun's head snaps up, glaring, and Myungsoo rolls his eyes. "God, you wouldn't believe who I got as my roommate," Woohyun says loudly, not even trying to keep his voice down.
Sungyeol scowls back immediately from Howon's other side, the only seat left. "It's not like I asked to be paired with you either."
"I mean, out of all these people?" Woohyun snarks, and Sungyeol bristles.
"I'd take anyone except for you as my roommate too, just so you know," Sungyeol bites back, stabbing into a piece of meat violently.
They fight for the rest of the meal. Myungsoo tolerates it, already long-suffering, as Sunggyu muses over rhythms he taps out against the table after he's done eating, while Dongwoo and Sungjong continue their conversation with Howon listening in. By the time he's done eating, Howon has a stomachache to go with his headache, and he excuses himself to retreat back to his room first.
The toothpaste in the bathroom is more bitter than the one he's used to at home, and sleep comes with a restless difficulty that night despite how tired he is. Howon knows aching muscles all too well, but in this world, it's his mind that wears out first.