The Mirror's Reflection (7/10)
Title: The Mirror's Reflection
Rating: NC-15
Pairing/Characters: Jongkey, SHINee
Genre: fictional, HS, AU
Chapter Word Count: 3,789
Summary: Kibum, a junior in high school, hadn't known just because he irrationally feared his enemy, he had lost a part of himself that everyone else could see. He always thought people were staring at him in awe or jealousy. But Kibum finding the truth makes him realize it's definitely not the way he thought it was. That's where Jonghyun came in. Jonghyun, the senior and partner in his English class, turned out to be more than just a seat partner, but more like a best friend at first. And it turned out Jonghyun was the one. The one who could see the mirror's reflection, unlike Kibum.
Chapter Seven: Key
September
So, it turned out that the beginning of Jonghyun’s college life, it was pretty easy going. He had enough time to visit Kibum out of his schedule. And obviously Kibum was more than delighted.
Today was Kibum’s eighteenth birthday and he planned to do nothing. He didn’t want any gifts, any celebration; nada. He had all he wanted and there wasn’t anything more that he possibly needed.
However, the only thing on his mind was that he was curious about something. Not just from today, but since the beginning of July.
Where was his father?
Kibum sat on the couch messing with his brown hair and just closed his eyes, trying to get all his thoughts together.
Where could his dad have gone? He could’ve been on another business trip, but he would’ve left a note or a message or some way to tell Kibum.
It was the only reason why his father would leave-well, that’s all Kibum could assume; it’s not like the man had any other life than work.
“BUMMIE!” His mother called from the kitchen as she walked out, squealing and hopping as if she were a child, “Bummie, it’s already noon, what do you wanna do today?!”
He smiled at his mother and shook his head in amusement. He hoped she’d never change from this, “Mom, I don’t want to do anything special.”
“You better!” she threatened, yet Kibum couldn’t feel it due to her voice being too happy, “I’ll drag you out!”
He rolled his eyes and stood, walking to his mother to envelope her in a big hug.
“Oh?” she squeaked, “Bummie?”
He kept her in his arms and felt her warmth. She was very comforting even though he never even needed it in the first place.
His mother was such a good person. She would never let him live life down but as high as she could get him (which always sounded wrong when she told him). He, especially at this moment, felt so thankful toward her for giving him a life that he would never take back and she giving him the love and push he needed to go on through his difficulties. She was such a fragile yet strong person, which was extremely ironic.
But she was the one who took special care and interest in him for eighteen years now.
So thankful.
She giggled so young and patted his back, “Ah, Bummie, stop thinking too much. I hear your brain working overtime!”
He slowly pulled back with his mother still in his arms and kissed her forehead, “I love you, Mon.”
She was clearly flattered by the red blush on her face and the smile that grew, “Bummie, I love you more. Maybe you should get the mail-your relatives might’ve sent some things to you for today.”
He nodded and slowly let go, going outside in his socks to the mailbox behind the fence. He opened it and found casual mail inside and thought nothing of it. He took them out and walked back into the house while going through the small pile in his hands
One from that aunt . . . that aunt . . . uncle what’s-his-face . . . cousin . . . grandmother . . . grandfather number two . . . Dad?
As he stepped into the house, he came across a pale letter from his father and put the rest on the table.
“Who’s that one’s, Bummie?” his mother asked in curiosity.
“Dad,” he simply said as if it were nothing. He looked up at his mother who stiffened as he sat on the couch. Where did the happy go? “Mom?”
“Yeah-huh?” she snapped back and looked at him, “Yeah, Bummie?”
He furrowed his brows. Was he missing something? “You okay?”
She waved her hand, still stiff, “I’m all good. I-I’ll be back,” she brought a façade up, “You should get ready. I’m taking you out for lunch. Isn’t Jonghyun-ah tagging along, baby?”
He raised his brows confused but slowly nodded. She smiled back at him and replied before going upstairs to find her shoes.
Something was wrong with his mother and this letter had to do with it.
Well shit, this isn’t going to go well, is it now?
He looked down on the letter and tore it open. He slid out the neatly folded paper, as well as a small sticky-note with its stick wearing off attached.
Don’t read before/during your birthday, Kibum.
“To Hell with that . . .” he mumbled and unfolded the letter.
Well, shit . . .
Son,
I’ve been missing since July, and I’ve never got a word on you why. I’m sorry.
Your mother and I have had harsh disagreements lately and it seems we aren’t on the same page at all anymore.
Your mother and I seem to be stepping on each other’s toes instead of watching where we walk and we’ve called it to a quit.
Kibum, your mother and I aren’t working out and it’s time we’ve called it off. Your mother and I are coming to a divorce.
We were never meant to really clash to be honest; arranged marriages never work.
Your mother and I were never fond of each other. Not then, during, or now. It was even harder when I had to bring a ‘bundle of joy’ into our ‘family’.
I’m going to sound crude and I respect your resentment. Your mother may have wanted you, but I still know I don’t want a child no matter how well I do in life.
You may be my son, but you know we haven’t ever been on speaking terms as you should recall.
I’m sorry for faking my amusement with you when I was actually quite displeased. But I can’t be sorry for having the thought process I possess.
Your mother tried to make it work, for your sake, to let you know.
She thought that if you got better then I’d have a better reason to stay.
To be honest, yes, I am worried about your well-being.
But no matter how much you try, I don’t think you’ll succeed in coming to normal. Everybody relapses.
But, to the clear point, when your mother found out about the cheating, I knew it was time to take my leave.
I’m leaving a lot to you, Kibum. In your mother’s bank account, I’ve given an amount that cannot be refused and I hope you accept that part of my apology.
I really having nothing more to say to you, but I’m sorry for taking my sudden leave. And I won’t be back, Kibum. Don’t wait on Appa.
Happy late eighteenth birthday.
Sincerely,
Your father
Kibum’s eyes burned. They may have been stinging from the tears or they may have been stinging from his anger.
He couldn’t even pinpoint his anger.
The fact his father really hated him. The fact his father didn’t want him. The fact he couldn’t get along with such a sweet woman. The fact he thinks he won’t get healthy. The fact he cheated. The fact he though an apology is acceptable with money.
Where was the bulls-eye so he could throw the dart-no, a nuclear weapon-at it?
He nonchalantly ripped the paper in two and let it fall to the floor. Who was he to care anymore? He barely even talked to his father all his life. How could this even hurt?
The fact his father lied to him all his life.
Maybe that was the worst.
He should’ve just left before he was born-make sure he never knew him at all. Because no matter how much he barely knew his father now, it still hurt that there was no love in his eyes when he thought there was.
He was a misguided child.
Kibum grew painfully hot and his stomach was unnaturally shuttering. He felt complete nothingness but at the same time a bubble of gunk inside him and it was disgustingly sticky and aching. He felt nasty. He felt . . . screwed up.
And screwed with.
Everybody relapses.
“Fine,” he whispered heartbroken, “I’ll relapse if you fucking want.”
“Bummie! What-” his mother bounced down the steps and stopped dead when she saw the red in his eyes, “Kibum?”
Kibum sniffed and shook his head, “I’m fine.”
he came closer and sat next to him, holding her arms around him, “Bummie what-” she looked down and saw the papers that missed their other with the sticky note on the right half, “Kibum, what did it say?”
He shook his head again and let the first tears fall from both his itchy eyes and down his cheek.
He didn’t feel hurt just because his father didn’t love him.
He felt hurt because he couldn’t even try to make his mother happy.
“Mom,” he breathed.
She scooted closer, one hand releasing him and catching the now overflowing tears, “Kibum . . .”
“Dad . . .”
“Dad . . .?”
Kibum sharply exhaled, his feline eyes sharpening in hate.
nbsp;“Dad is an asshole.”
His mother loosened a bit, staring at him shocked as the foul language ripped from his lips and didn’t even hesitate to use it in front of her.
She had to know by then that he knew.
Kibum felt her arms tighten and she turned him to face her. He looked at her eyes that started turning pink and her cheeks flushed. Her eyes were so . . . sorrowful that he felt he could punch his father-no, not his father, the bastard-in the gut and not regret a thing.
“Bummie, it’s all okay,” she forced her smile, “We don’t need him. I’m going to make it all okay.”
Kibum was astonished. Even though he was crying, yeah, he expected for her to be concerned. But couldn’t she say ‘I’ll be okay’? Was she even thinking about herself?
“Mom,” he held her, “What about you?”
He looked through his blurry eyes at her and could make out the watery smile past them. She shook her head and squeezed his arms, “This has to affect you more than it does me, Bummie.”
Kibum blinked hard and let the rest of the buildup flow and gave her a hard look. He held her tightly and clenched his teeth, “Mom, you can’t not think for yourself! Look what he’s done!”
“Bummie, it’s all fine, so-”
“No!” Kibum let go and stood, “No, no, no, no it’s not! He . . . led me on! And he couldn’t even try to be willing in your marriage! He was an asshole who thought of himself and couldn’t stand the thought of a fantastic woman and mother that you are! Instead he’s interested in some hoe-bag that probably just wants his money since he’s so high in the goddamn country!” The words flew out of his mouth, “I’m sorry for swearing at you, Mom, but seriously! I bet he wrote that letter without even actually being sorry! That man thinks he can make it up with money? Bullshit he can!”
His mother stood and walked to him, but he backed away, afraid he might hit something-hit her-and possibly injure her from his anger, “I can’t . . . he doesn’t even believe I can get better . . .” he spoke in monotone, staring at the family-of-three picture on the wall, “Well . . . then fu-forget it. I’m done trying. I’m done with all of this. This is all bullshit. And you don’t deserve any of this, Mom. Things would’ve been so much better-”
“Kim Kibum, I swear to god if you say ‘better without me’ I don’t know what I’m going to do with you!” she growled, “It wouldn’t have mattered if I had you or not, his mind wouldn’t have changed. I don’t give a damn that you’re partially related to him. I had you and I love you more than I could ever love your father. If he leaves, I don’t care. I still have my baby and that’s all I need. I need my happy baby, Bummie. I need . . . my happy . . .” she slowed down and sat back down on the couch, hands on her face, “Don’t go back, baby,” she mumbled through her quiet sobs, “Don’t do it. You’re doing so well.”
He watched her sulk and froze in place.
Did he just make her . . . cry?
“Mom. . . I’m . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make,” hiccup, “You . . .
“I’m sorry, Mom,” he apologized before bolting out the door without his shoes.
“KIBUM!” she screamed and ran to the door.
But Kibum’s fast running already pulled him out of her sight.
“K-Kibum,” she, shocked, whispered, “Why in the world would you run away-
“Jonghyun,” she suddenly said to herself and ran to her phone, going through her contact list.
“Hel-”
“Jonghyun, Kibum ran away,” she bluntly spoke.
Pause.
“W-wha-WHAT?!”
“He . . . I don’t know where he goes when he’s out . . . I . . . would you know?” she hiccupped.
“Mrs. Kim-”
“Ms. Kim,” she corrected.
Another pause.
“Ms. Kim . . . why would he run? Especially today? I thought today was his birthday.”
She paused.
“His father sent him a letter.”
The small autumn breeze shifted towards Kibum as he walked to the pet store.
He never went there often, but whenever he had, every animal inside always made him smile
Even though he felt like he didn't deserve to smile, he didn't want to keep feeling the way he did.
With only socks on, he slid into the store and looked cautiously around. The store was basically empty and the workers were walking around the store and looking to see if any animals were in need.
He immediately walked over to the kitten section and sat on the floor before the first cage, staring at all the sleeping kittens inside. They were all huddled into corners of the cages, piling on top of each other in comforting sleep on the blanket ground. They were so cute and peaceful with their minds oblivious of the real world.
He wanted to be a kitten. Soft, gentle, and easily nurtured. Claws for the fight and a mouth for biting. Kittens had everything he wanted; how come he couldn't be one?
A pale brown and gray mixed with white insanely tiny kitten yawned and stretched its paw out, taking a blink to the daylight. The kitten saw Kibum and fought its way out of its place in the kitten piling. It walked on top of its brothers and sisters and slowly approached Kibum with wide blue eyes, licking its lips.
Kibum smiled and slowly pointed his finger in the cage, petting the kitten's head gently with a stroke. The kitten moved up against the cage and lied back down with its head face Kibum and slowly closing its eyes. A single finger turned into two and slowly, yet cautiously, pet the kitten's body, feeling its breathing slow; its heartbeat calm.
"You have it so easy," Kibum grimly smiled, his fingers stroking its paw gently, "You have no worries but for a good parent."
He returned his petting to the kitten's body as he watched the paws starting to knead at the blanket it lay on and tried purring. Kibum carefully laughed, not to startle the kitten, as his effort to purr was cute. It went on and off every two seconds and he could hear a small and healthy wheeze from the kitten as it kept trying to tell Kibum he liked him a lot.
Kibum pulled pack his fingers, but stopped and insides burst in emotion. The kitten opened its eyes a little and grabbed on to his fingers to stop them from their retreat. He could feel little stubby claws trying to pull him back and felt he could cry.
Maybe this is how his mother felt about Kibum.
He could be the kitten; the child who never wanted his mother to leave him behind. Or she could be the kitten, holding on to Kibum, not caring for the rest of the people behind her.
Oh, Mom, he internally sniffed.
He finally comprehended.
He literally just . . . ran away from her paws. And left her to cry like an abandoned kitten.
Damn it, Kibum, you're eighteen and you're still acting like a ten-year-old. He scolded.
The kitten slid its body closer to the clasped fingers, its nose gently touching the base of his pointer finger and rubbing against him.
"You're so cute," he breathed and leaned his head on the cage, "You're making me feel better, little kitty. I'm a selfish son and I'm using you for my feelings. Oh, I'm so bad, aren't I?"
The kitten curled around his finger as a response and yawned with a small baby sound coming from it.
Kibum wanted to shrivel up and bow in its presence, "You've already taught me a lot, baby kitty."
He slowly moved his finger to stroke the kitten's tummy and felt the two-second purrs vibrate and heard them get louder. So soft and so comforting.
"You know, you actually aren't supposed to do that?"
Kibum whipped his head to his left as he noticed a very pretty and young blonde girl in a blue shirt, white pants, colorful Adidas, and an off-white apron smiling, kneeling beside him. She wore heavy black make-up and earrings that looked like Triforces (looking really expensive, too).
"I always forget to read signs, sorry," he started taking back his finger.
"No!" she whispered as she looked at the cat, her almond eyes widening. Kibum stopped moving. "Don't pull back."
Kibum furrowed his brows at her an asked, "Why?"
She looked at him again and pointed her long, silver and sparkly pointer nail at the feline, "Him, right there? He's such a stubborn kitten and hasn't taken a fond liking to people for a month now. You're the first he's ever accepted."
"Is it because my eyes resemble a cat?" he quickly questioned thoughtlessly. He stopped himself and chuckled, "I can't believe I just asked that."
"It could be," she still answered him, "Or maybe he could sense the way you're feeling and wanted to comfort you."
Kibum looked at her oddly with a smile, "Cats can do that?"
She nodded, a hand pulling back some of her blonde hair from her face. Kibum could finally see her nametag, and it was roughly written over. It looked to be printed in light blue as 'Chae Rin' but the black sharpie over it labeled her as 'CL'.
"Well, it's a controversial topic, but I believe so. Usually it would happen when the animal and owner share a bond. I guess this kitten has seen you somewhere before."
"I haven't been here in the last couple months," Kibum replied, lost.
"Well," she chuckled quietly, "Maybe he's dreamt of you."
He looked back at the kitten, whose ears hooded back as he stretched along his finger. He felt so attached.
His mother . . . She was this attached.
"You're upset, aren't you?" she suddenly asked, sitting on the floor beside him as if they were casual friends.
Kibum took a double-take before looking at her again, "Oh, uh . . ."
"No worries. It's clear on your face," she smiled warmly, "If you won't get in trouble, how about I let you adopt the kitten free?" it sounded more like a statement than a question.
"Miss-”
"Call me CL," she went on smiling.
"CL-ssi," he said, twirling his fingers against the kitten's fur, "I don't think that's-"
"Are your family members allergic?"
Family member.
"Well, no."
"Hate cats?"
No . . .
". . . No."
"Would they mind a pet?"
She's open minded . . .
"I wouldn't think so."
She put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in, "Then why not? It's not like I'm pushing you to pay or anything. It's on me."
Kibum softened and really thought this CL girl was pretty nice. Paying for his kitten's adoption? That's not something everyone is willing to do.
And maybe his mother would forgive him for running so suddenly. He always knew she wanted a kitten, but when his father always refused her . . .
"CL-ssi, I think I'll take him."
Giving a flashy smile, as if in relief, she nodded and got to her feet and began walking to the counter, "I'll be back with the papers and the necessities, sir."
"Kibum."
She turned around in confusion, "Huh?"
"I'm Kibum."
She bit her lip and nodded before bowing formally, "It's nice to meet you Kibum-ssi."
He nodded his head and replied, "It's nice to meet you CL-ssi. You can drop the ssi in my name."
nbsp; "Then call me CL Noona," she chuckled and walked behind the counter.
He stroked the kitten again and turned his head in amusement, "CL, are you even older than me? You look like you're fourteen to the most."
He heard her chuckle going from distant to close as she put the paperwork beside Kibum and pulled her hair behind her ears, "I'm twenty-one, Kibum."
Widening his eyes in shock, his mouth dropped, "Noona is twenty-one? Liar!"
She laughed, clearly entertained, and picked the untouched paperwork back up and sat, "Believe it, Kibum. And how old is my dongsaeng?"
"I'm eighteen today."
"Wah!" she exclaimed and put down the papers, clapping her hands in enthusiasm, "Happy birthday, Kibum!"
He chuckled at his Noona's delight and shook his head, "Thank you, CL Noona."
"But," she furrowed her brows, "Why?"
"What?"
She grabbed the pen and started filling her part of the paper out, "Why are you sad today? It's your birthday!"
"Ah, Noona . . . it's just a bit complicated."
She opened her mouth with a silent 'Oh', and nodded, continuing her part of the paperwork.
"Your full name?"
"Kim Kibum."
"Age eighteen . . . Student?"
"I'm a student."
"Animal's age . . . two months . . . Kitten's name?"
". . . Uh . . ."
There was a pause.
"Key," she answered simply, her English perfect without the Asian prolong on the word.
He looked at her with his eyebrows raised, "Key?"
She shrugged, looking at him with curiosity, "You look like a Key, but I guess no one calls you that. Maybe Key could be his name."
He looked at the kitten, a small smile playfully growing on his lips.
"Yeah. Key."
----Note~----
Ello poppets. c:
So, it's Kibum's birthday in here, and his father, who played a super minor role, finally reveals his true colors. His father was mentioned in the first chapter; with just a grunt of hello to Kibum. That really showed some affection, yeah?
Yup, and I went as far as cliche for the 'make up gift' his father gave him. But hey, a lot of people do think that way.
So, Kibum's now pretty upset with his father's words about relapsing back into being the 'boney boy' he'd grown up to become. It seems Kibum's easily influenced and emotional, right? That's a characteristic I take to personally.
This is only part one of Autumn' part two will be uploaded Monday.
Oh, hey, reminder. This is the seventh chapter? MEANING THREE CHAPTERS TO GO.
So, all in all, everyone like it? c:
Have I ever mentioned I hate English class? It makes me angry. So angry. It makes me want to stop writing. So I think I'll have a hard time even pulling up Microsoft to even write a word.
(But I promise I'm not stopping.)
Any Babys (babies?) out there? I bet you all know Yong Guk got his very own tumblr. Don't follow him unless you want to have the possibility of having your things exposed if he gets interested in all of your English URLs. xDD
/He follows back a few, too.
Reminds me. I hit sixty followers on tumblr (Waiting for someone to unfollow xD). It may not seem much, like a hundred, but seriously, it sometimes takes a lot to get followers; even if you do nothing. So, I hope all that follow me don't find my rather enormous reblogging sessions annoying. xD
Well. I've got a French project to get to... How would you make a mask for Jeanne d'Arc? I HAVE NO CREATIVE IDEAS, HERE. ._.
Thank you to everyone as usual for everything. cc:
See you Tuesday, guys!
~FlaMinhoe/Piplupz
Tumblah'
( Next )
Rating: NC-15
Pairing/Characters: Jongkey, SHINee
Genre: fictional, HS, AU
Chapter Word Count: 3,789
Summary: Kibum, a junior in high school, hadn't known just because he irrationally feared his enemy, he had lost a part of himself that everyone else could see. He always thought people were staring at him in awe or jealousy. But Kibum finding the truth makes him realize it's definitely not the way he thought it was. That's where Jonghyun came in. Jonghyun, the senior and partner in his English class, turned out to be more than just a seat partner, but more like a best friend at first. And it turned out Jonghyun was the one. The one who could see the mirror's reflection, unlike Kibum.
Chapter Seven: Key
September
So, it turned out that the beginning of Jonghyun’s college life, it was pretty easy going. He had enough time to visit Kibum out of his schedule. And obviously Kibum was more than delighted.
Today was Kibum’s eighteenth birthday and he planned to do nothing. He didn’t want any gifts, any celebration; nada. He had all he wanted and there wasn’t anything more that he possibly needed.
However, the only thing on his mind was that he was curious about something. Not just from today, but since the beginning of July.
Where was his father?
Kibum sat on the couch messing with his brown hair and just closed his eyes, trying to get all his thoughts together.
Where could his dad have gone? He could’ve been on another business trip, but he would’ve left a note or a message or some way to tell Kibum.
It was the only reason why his father would leave-well, that’s all Kibum could assume; it’s not like the man had any other life than work.
“BUMMIE!” His mother called from the kitchen as she walked out, squealing and hopping as if she were a child, “Bummie, it’s already noon, what do you wanna do today?!”
He smiled at his mother and shook his head in amusement. He hoped she’d never change from this, “Mom, I don’t want to do anything special.”
“You better!” she threatened, yet Kibum couldn’t feel it due to her voice being too happy, “I’ll drag you out!”
He rolled his eyes and stood, walking to his mother to envelope her in a big hug.
“Oh?” she squeaked, “Bummie?”
He kept her in his arms and felt her warmth. She was very comforting even though he never even needed it in the first place.
His mother was such a good person. She would never let him live life down but as high as she could get him (which always sounded wrong when she told him). He, especially at this moment, felt so thankful toward her for giving him a life that he would never take back and she giving him the love and push he needed to go on through his difficulties. She was such a fragile yet strong person, which was extremely ironic.
But she was the one who took special care and interest in him for eighteen years now.
So thankful.
She giggled so young and patted his back, “Ah, Bummie, stop thinking too much. I hear your brain working overtime!”
He slowly pulled back with his mother still in his arms and kissed her forehead, “I love you, Mon.”
She was clearly flattered by the red blush on her face and the smile that grew, “Bummie, I love you more. Maybe you should get the mail-your relatives might’ve sent some things to you for today.”
He nodded and slowly let go, going outside in his socks to the mailbox behind the fence. He opened it and found casual mail inside and thought nothing of it. He took them out and walked back into the house while going through the small pile in his hands
One from that aunt . . . that aunt . . . uncle what’s-his-face . . . cousin . . . grandmother . . . grandfather number two . . . Dad?
As he stepped into the house, he came across a pale letter from his father and put the rest on the table.
“Who’s that one’s, Bummie?” his mother asked in curiosity.
“Dad,” he simply said as if it were nothing. He looked up at his mother who stiffened as he sat on the couch. Where did the happy go? “Mom?”
“Yeah-huh?” she snapped back and looked at him, “Yeah, Bummie?”
He furrowed his brows. Was he missing something? “You okay?”
She waved her hand, still stiff, “I’m all good. I-I’ll be back,” she brought a façade up, “You should get ready. I’m taking you out for lunch. Isn’t Jonghyun-ah tagging along, baby?”
He raised his brows confused but slowly nodded. She smiled back at him and replied before going upstairs to find her shoes.
Something was wrong with his mother and this letter had to do with it.
Well shit, this isn’t going to go well, is it now?
He looked down on the letter and tore it open. He slid out the neatly folded paper, as well as a small sticky-note with its stick wearing off attached.
Don’t read before/during your birthday, Kibum.
“To Hell with that . . .” he mumbled and unfolded the letter.
Well, shit . . .
Son,
I’ve been missing since July, and I’ve never got a word on you why. I’m sorry.
Your mother and I have had harsh disagreements lately and it seems we aren’t on the same page at all anymore.
Your mother and I seem to be stepping on each other’s toes instead of watching where we walk and we’ve called it to a quit.
Kibum, your mother and I aren’t working out and it’s time we’ve called it off. Your mother and I are coming to a divorce.
We were never meant to really clash to be honest; arranged marriages never work.
Your mother and I were never fond of each other. Not then, during, or now. It was even harder when I had to bring a ‘bundle of joy’ into our ‘family’.
I’m going to sound crude and I respect your resentment. Your mother may have wanted you, but I still know I don’t want a child no matter how well I do in life.
You may be my son, but you know we haven’t ever been on speaking terms as you should recall.
I’m sorry for faking my amusement with you when I was actually quite displeased. But I can’t be sorry for having the thought process I possess.
Your mother tried to make it work, for your sake, to let you know.
She thought that if you got better then I’d have a better reason to stay.
To be honest, yes, I am worried about your well-being.
But no matter how much you try, I don’t think you’ll succeed in coming to normal. Everybody relapses.
But, to the clear point, when your mother found out about the cheating, I knew it was time to take my leave.
I’m leaving a lot to you, Kibum. In your mother’s bank account, I’ve given an amount that cannot be refused and I hope you accept that part of my apology.
I really having nothing more to say to you, but I’m sorry for taking my sudden leave. And I won’t be back, Kibum. Don’t wait on Appa.
Happy late eighteenth birthday.
Sincerely,
Your father
Kibum’s eyes burned. They may have been stinging from the tears or they may have been stinging from his anger.
He couldn’t even pinpoint his anger.
The fact his father really hated him. The fact his father didn’t want him. The fact he couldn’t get along with such a sweet woman. The fact he thinks he won’t get healthy. The fact he cheated. The fact he though an apology is acceptable with money.
Where was the bulls-eye so he could throw the dart-no, a nuclear weapon-at it?
He nonchalantly ripped the paper in two and let it fall to the floor. Who was he to care anymore? He barely even talked to his father all his life. How could this even hurt?
The fact his father lied to him all his life.
Maybe that was the worst.
He should’ve just left before he was born-make sure he never knew him at all. Because no matter how much he barely knew his father now, it still hurt that there was no love in his eyes when he thought there was.
He was a misguided child.
Kibum grew painfully hot and his stomach was unnaturally shuttering. He felt complete nothingness but at the same time a bubble of gunk inside him and it was disgustingly sticky and aching. He felt nasty. He felt . . . screwed up.
And screwed with.
Everybody relapses.
“Fine,” he whispered heartbroken, “I’ll relapse if you fucking want.”
“Bummie! What-” his mother bounced down the steps and stopped dead when she saw the red in his eyes, “Kibum?”
Kibum sniffed and shook his head, “I’m fine.”
he came closer and sat next to him, holding her arms around him, “Bummie what-” she looked down and saw the papers that missed their other with the sticky note on the right half, “Kibum, what did it say?”
He shook his head again and let the first tears fall from both his itchy eyes and down his cheek.
He didn’t feel hurt just because his father didn’t love him.
He felt hurt because he couldn’t even try to make his mother happy.
“Mom,” he breathed.
She scooted closer, one hand releasing him and catching the now overflowing tears, “Kibum . . .”
“Dad . . .”
“Dad . . .?”
Kibum sharply exhaled, his feline eyes sharpening in hate.
nbsp;“Dad is an asshole.”
His mother loosened a bit, staring at him shocked as the foul language ripped from his lips and didn’t even hesitate to use it in front of her.
She had to know by then that he knew.
Kibum felt her arms tighten and she turned him to face her. He looked at her eyes that started turning pink and her cheeks flushed. Her eyes were so . . . sorrowful that he felt he could punch his father-no, not his father, the bastard-in the gut and not regret a thing.
“Bummie, it’s all okay,” she forced her smile, “We don’t need him. I’m going to make it all okay.”
Kibum was astonished. Even though he was crying, yeah, he expected for her to be concerned. But couldn’t she say ‘I’ll be okay’? Was she even thinking about herself?
“Mom,” he held her, “What about you?”
He looked through his blurry eyes at her and could make out the watery smile past them. She shook her head and squeezed his arms, “This has to affect you more than it does me, Bummie.”
Kibum blinked hard and let the rest of the buildup flow and gave her a hard look. He held her tightly and clenched his teeth, “Mom, you can’t not think for yourself! Look what he’s done!”
“Bummie, it’s all fine, so-”
“No!” Kibum let go and stood, “No, no, no, no it’s not! He . . . led me on! And he couldn’t even try to be willing in your marriage! He was an asshole who thought of himself and couldn’t stand the thought of a fantastic woman and mother that you are! Instead he’s interested in some hoe-bag that probably just wants his money since he’s so high in the goddamn country!” The words flew out of his mouth, “I’m sorry for swearing at you, Mom, but seriously! I bet he wrote that letter without even actually being sorry! That man thinks he can make it up with money? Bullshit he can!”
His mother stood and walked to him, but he backed away, afraid he might hit something-hit her-and possibly injure her from his anger, “I can’t . . . he doesn’t even believe I can get better . . .” he spoke in monotone, staring at the family-of-three picture on the wall, “Well . . . then fu-forget it. I’m done trying. I’m done with all of this. This is all bullshit. And you don’t deserve any of this, Mom. Things would’ve been so much better-”
“Kim Kibum, I swear to god if you say ‘better without me’ I don’t know what I’m going to do with you!” she growled, “It wouldn’t have mattered if I had you or not, his mind wouldn’t have changed. I don’t give a damn that you’re partially related to him. I had you and I love you more than I could ever love your father. If he leaves, I don’t care. I still have my baby and that’s all I need. I need my happy baby, Bummie. I need . . . my happy . . .” she slowed down and sat back down on the couch, hands on her face, “Don’t go back, baby,” she mumbled through her quiet sobs, “Don’t do it. You’re doing so well.”
He watched her sulk and froze in place.
Did he just make her . . . cry?
“Mom. . . I’m . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make,” hiccup, “You . . .
“I’m sorry, Mom,” he apologized before bolting out the door without his shoes.
“KIBUM!” she screamed and ran to the door.
But Kibum’s fast running already pulled him out of her sight.
“K-Kibum,” she, shocked, whispered, “Why in the world would you run away-
“Jonghyun,” she suddenly said to herself and ran to her phone, going through her contact list.
“Hel-”
“Jonghyun, Kibum ran away,” she bluntly spoke.
Pause.
“W-wha-WHAT?!”
“He . . . I don’t know where he goes when he’s out . . . I . . . would you know?” she hiccupped.
“Mrs. Kim-”
“Ms. Kim,” she corrected.
Another pause.
“Ms. Kim . . . why would he run? Especially today? I thought today was his birthday.”
She paused.
“His father sent him a letter.”
The small autumn breeze shifted towards Kibum as he walked to the pet store.
He never went there often, but whenever he had, every animal inside always made him smile
Even though he felt like he didn't deserve to smile, he didn't want to keep feeling the way he did.
With only socks on, he slid into the store and looked cautiously around. The store was basically empty and the workers were walking around the store and looking to see if any animals were in need.
He immediately walked over to the kitten section and sat on the floor before the first cage, staring at all the sleeping kittens inside. They were all huddled into corners of the cages, piling on top of each other in comforting sleep on the blanket ground. They were so cute and peaceful with their minds oblivious of the real world.
He wanted to be a kitten. Soft, gentle, and easily nurtured. Claws for the fight and a mouth for biting. Kittens had everything he wanted; how come he couldn't be one?
A pale brown and gray mixed with white insanely tiny kitten yawned and stretched its paw out, taking a blink to the daylight. The kitten saw Kibum and fought its way out of its place in the kitten piling. It walked on top of its brothers and sisters and slowly approached Kibum with wide blue eyes, licking its lips.
Kibum smiled and slowly pointed his finger in the cage, petting the kitten's head gently with a stroke. The kitten moved up against the cage and lied back down with its head face Kibum and slowly closing its eyes. A single finger turned into two and slowly, yet cautiously, pet the kitten's body, feeling its breathing slow; its heartbeat calm.
"You have it so easy," Kibum grimly smiled, his fingers stroking its paw gently, "You have no worries but for a good parent."
He returned his petting to the kitten's body as he watched the paws starting to knead at the blanket it lay on and tried purring. Kibum carefully laughed, not to startle the kitten, as his effort to purr was cute. It went on and off every two seconds and he could hear a small and healthy wheeze from the kitten as it kept trying to tell Kibum he liked him a lot.
Kibum pulled pack his fingers, but stopped and insides burst in emotion. The kitten opened its eyes a little and grabbed on to his fingers to stop them from their retreat. He could feel little stubby claws trying to pull him back and felt he could cry.
Maybe this is how his mother felt about Kibum.
He could be the kitten; the child who never wanted his mother to leave him behind. Or she could be the kitten, holding on to Kibum, not caring for the rest of the people behind her.
Oh, Mom, he internally sniffed.
He finally comprehended.
He literally just . . . ran away from her paws. And left her to cry like an abandoned kitten.
Damn it, Kibum, you're eighteen and you're still acting like a ten-year-old. He scolded.
The kitten slid its body closer to the clasped fingers, its nose gently touching the base of his pointer finger and rubbing against him.
"You're so cute," he breathed and leaned his head on the cage, "You're making me feel better, little kitty. I'm a selfish son and I'm using you for my feelings. Oh, I'm so bad, aren't I?"
The kitten curled around his finger as a response and yawned with a small baby sound coming from it.
Kibum wanted to shrivel up and bow in its presence, "You've already taught me a lot, baby kitty."
He slowly moved his finger to stroke the kitten's tummy and felt the two-second purrs vibrate and heard them get louder. So soft and so comforting.
"You know, you actually aren't supposed to do that?"
Kibum whipped his head to his left as he noticed a very pretty and young blonde girl in a blue shirt, white pants, colorful Adidas, and an off-white apron smiling, kneeling beside him. She wore heavy black make-up and earrings that looked like Triforces (looking really expensive, too).
"I always forget to read signs, sorry," he started taking back his finger.
"No!" she whispered as she looked at the cat, her almond eyes widening. Kibum stopped moving. "Don't pull back."
Kibum furrowed his brows at her an asked, "Why?"
She looked at him again and pointed her long, silver and sparkly pointer nail at the feline, "Him, right there? He's such a stubborn kitten and hasn't taken a fond liking to people for a month now. You're the first he's ever accepted."
"Is it because my eyes resemble a cat?" he quickly questioned thoughtlessly. He stopped himself and chuckled, "I can't believe I just asked that."
"It could be," she still answered him, "Or maybe he could sense the way you're feeling and wanted to comfort you."
Kibum looked at her oddly with a smile, "Cats can do that?"
She nodded, a hand pulling back some of her blonde hair from her face. Kibum could finally see her nametag, and it was roughly written over. It looked to be printed in light blue as 'Chae Rin' but the black sharpie over it labeled her as 'CL'.
"Well, it's a controversial topic, but I believe so. Usually it would happen when the animal and owner share a bond. I guess this kitten has seen you somewhere before."
"I haven't been here in the last couple months," Kibum replied, lost.
"Well," she chuckled quietly, "Maybe he's dreamt of you."
He looked back at the kitten, whose ears hooded back as he stretched along his finger. He felt so attached.
His mother . . . She was this attached.
"You're upset, aren't you?" she suddenly asked, sitting on the floor beside him as if they were casual friends.
Kibum took a double-take before looking at her again, "Oh, uh . . ."
"No worries. It's clear on your face," she smiled warmly, "If you won't get in trouble, how about I let you adopt the kitten free?" it sounded more like a statement than a question.
"Miss-”
"Call me CL," she went on smiling.
"CL-ssi," he said, twirling his fingers against the kitten's fur, "I don't think that's-"
"Are your family members allergic?"
Family member.
"Well, no."
"Hate cats?"
No . . .
". . . No."
"Would they mind a pet?"
She's open minded . . .
"I wouldn't think so."
She put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in, "Then why not? It's not like I'm pushing you to pay or anything. It's on me."
Kibum softened and really thought this CL girl was pretty nice. Paying for his kitten's adoption? That's not something everyone is willing to do.
And maybe his mother would forgive him for running so suddenly. He always knew she wanted a kitten, but when his father always refused her . . .
"CL-ssi, I think I'll take him."
Giving a flashy smile, as if in relief, she nodded and got to her feet and began walking to the counter, "I'll be back with the papers and the necessities, sir."
"Kibum."
She turned around in confusion, "Huh?"
"I'm Kibum."
She bit her lip and nodded before bowing formally, "It's nice to meet you Kibum-ssi."
He nodded his head and replied, "It's nice to meet you CL-ssi. You can drop the ssi in my name."
nbsp; "Then call me CL Noona," she chuckled and walked behind the counter.
He stroked the kitten again and turned his head in amusement, "CL, are you even older than me? You look like you're fourteen to the most."
He heard her chuckle going from distant to close as she put the paperwork beside Kibum and pulled her hair behind her ears, "I'm twenty-one, Kibum."
Widening his eyes in shock, his mouth dropped, "Noona is twenty-one? Liar!"
She laughed, clearly entertained, and picked the untouched paperwork back up and sat, "Believe it, Kibum. And how old is my dongsaeng?"
"I'm eighteen today."
"Wah!" she exclaimed and put down the papers, clapping her hands in enthusiasm, "Happy birthday, Kibum!"
He chuckled at his Noona's delight and shook his head, "Thank you, CL Noona."
"But," she furrowed her brows, "Why?"
"What?"
She grabbed the pen and started filling her part of the paper out, "Why are you sad today? It's your birthday!"
"Ah, Noona . . . it's just a bit complicated."
She opened her mouth with a silent 'Oh', and nodded, continuing her part of the paperwork.
"Your full name?"
"Kim Kibum."
"Age eighteen . . . Student?"
"I'm a student."
"Animal's age . . . two months . . . Kitten's name?"
". . . Uh . . ."
There was a pause.
"Key," she answered simply, her English perfect without the Asian prolong on the word.
He looked at her with his eyebrows raised, "Key?"
She shrugged, looking at him with curiosity, "You look like a Key, but I guess no one calls you that. Maybe Key could be his name."
He looked at the kitten, a small smile playfully growing on his lips.
"Yeah. Key."
----Note~----
Ello poppets. c:
So, it's Kibum's birthday in here, and his father, who played a super minor role, finally reveals his true colors. His father was mentioned in the first chapter; with just a grunt of hello to Kibum. That really showed some affection, yeah?
Yup, and I went as far as cliche for the 'make up gift' his father gave him. But hey, a lot of people do think that way.
So, Kibum's now pretty upset with his father's words about relapsing back into being the 'boney boy' he'd grown up to become. It seems Kibum's easily influenced and emotional, right? That's a characteristic I take to personally.
This is only part one of Autumn' part two will be uploaded Monday.
Oh, hey, reminder. This is the seventh chapter? MEANING THREE CHAPTERS TO GO.
So, all in all, everyone like it? c:
Have I ever mentioned I hate English class? It makes me angry. So angry. It makes me want to stop writing. So I think I'll have a hard time even pulling up Microsoft to even write a word.
(But I promise I'm not stopping.)
Any Babys (babies?) out there? I bet you all know Yong Guk got his very own tumblr. Don't follow him unless you want to have the possibility of having your things exposed if he gets interested in all of your English URLs. xDD
/He follows back a few, too.
Reminds me. I hit sixty followers on tumblr (Waiting for someone to unfollow xD). It may not seem much, like a hundred, but seriously, it sometimes takes a lot to get followers; even if you do nothing. So, I hope all that follow me don't find my rather enormous reblogging sessions annoying. xD
Well. I've got a French project to get to... How would you make a mask for Jeanne d'Arc? I HAVE NO CREATIVE IDEAS, HERE. ._.
Thank you to everyone as usual for everything. cc:
See you Tuesday, guys!
~FlaMinhoe/Piplupz
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