Chapter 15 - THE CUTTING COLD
A distant echo of a shrill ringing drifted through the hazy folds of his dreams, parting their sheer transparency to pierce through the absentminded drifting of his consciousness, ensconced deep within the confines of his mentality. Jaejoong's brows furrowed slightly in irritation, waving his hands vaguely around his heavy head, his thin lids trembling faintly as he shut them tightly against the unwelcome intrusion.
The annoyance persisted, causing an acute pain to shoot through his head, slicing it bare for the incessant jangle of his cell phone to penetrate and embed itself, burrowing deeply into the back of his mind. The repetitive melody stayed there, stubbornly lodging itself within the cracks of his tried patience, threatening to wear it thin and fragile. He groped his fumbling hands around, with a few unsuccessful attempts, resulting in bruised hands from knocking repeatedly against the edge of their nightstand. He finally laid hands on his buzzing cell phone, vibrating noisily within the room.
He fought his way clear of sweltering blankets and Yunho’s sleepy embrace. He sat up disoriented and cold in the dark and quickly flipped open the offending thing. The abhorrent jingly tune that he had selected, in the half hearted hope of cheering him up every time it rang, only served to annoy the shit out of him. He made a fervent mental note to delete the whole song from his phones memory, as soon as his splitting headache decided to stop indulging in its gleeful pleasure of tormenting him, with occasional sharp razor edged shots of its acidic pain.
“Hello?” He answered groggily. His tongue felt thick within his mouth, his voice came out rough and gravelly as it fought free of his closed up vocal cords, his eyes felt gummed up. A darkening mood settled steadily across his drooping shoulders, weaving itself familiarly through his current sodden frame of mind. Wearily prying his eyes open, he glanced down at Yunho’s disgruntled crease forming on his forehead at the sudden loss of his comfy pillow, which was incidentally Jaejoong's warm body.
A pretty blush crept up his neck, as his felt his face heating, under the profound fact that he had finally let a single person breach his strictly bound personal space. The sudden comfort and solace he found in Yunho's gentle snuggle, withered away his resolve to stand strong by his conviction of maintaining his personal boundaries.
They melted away under the soft rays of light, shining forth from Yunho's meek smiles and easygoing laughs. It robbed him of the firm security he usually felt, his composure crumbling to grey ashes, leaving him strangely peacefully adrift, ensconced deeply within Yunho's safe grip. Yunho’s only recognition of Jaejoong’s departure was to immediately burrow into the warm place where he had lain, mumbling softly about Junsu botching up the dance steps again.
An equally shrill voice, that rivalled his ringtone, tore away his dazed stare at Yunho.
“Jaejoong!? Joong ah, its umma ah.. It’s really urgent and umma has, has to be the one to tell you first, uh? Listen to umma first, uh, joong joong ah. Please.” She pleaded with him desperately, sorrow and worried anxiety colouring her voice into an ugly cry of anguish.
Jaejoong's eyes widened, as he froze within the process of untangling his legs from the blankets swathed around his lower body. “What’s wrong ah, umma? Did something bad happen to you? Who did it?,” His distressed voice turned flat with anger and something much darker, uncoiled within his belly, trashing and whipping its head about, finding an outlet to vent his mounting fury. It was not his surrogate mother, but his flesh and blood’s aggrieved voice on the other end and the mere sound of it, boiled his blood with pure, blinding fiery rage.
She had suffered enough throughout her life because of him; he was not going to let anything get in the way of her happiness any longer, not if he could help it.
“Who did it!?” he demanded hotly, disregarding the importance of treating his elders with care, especially when it came to his blood mother, as the all-consuming worry over the cause of her panic, robbed away all rational thought. His well instilled mannerisms and politely civil façade faded away into oblivion, torn to shreds under his duress. Instead a callused, uncouth youth sat within the dark confines of his bedroom, surfacing unbidden from the deepest depths of him.
Thrashed and torn apart at the very seams, under the harsh torment of his bleak teenage years spent within Seoul’s aggressive downtown neighbourhood. A raven haired boy, fended for himself under the intimidating ordeals of his daily life, scraping by on infrequent meagre meals and odd jobs that no one else wanted to take up. It produced a fragile, shattered man, broken much too early, that hid his gaping cracks behind a hostile demeanour and bitterly tart words that repelled others away, in a desperate defence against further hurts. An unfathomable hardened mask replaced his cheery self, providing a slippery eeled personality to surface, that gave others no strong foothold upon his heart.
That same man, dressed much differently, with numerous more piercings adorning his bare body than in the past, but the same man nevertheless, sat on a bed in seouls upper district, with tightened lips and hardened eyes. “joong joong ah. Promise umma you won’t let this affect you, all right? Umma wants you to know that she loves you very much and does not want you to feel hurt because of this. Please, joong joong ah, promise umma that you will hear it from umma first, uh?” Jaejoong's eyes grew wider in increasing alarm and partly due to his frustration at being kept in the dark.
Jaejoong finally kicked off the blankets and strode out into the brightly lit hallway. The harsh glare of the sudden light made him wince in pain, acerbating his already pounding headache. He stiffly followed the sounds of the late night news, from their apartment’s living room, faintly drifting into the hallway that led to their bedrooms.
“joong ah, your appa-.. showed up last night, after all these years. ,” Her voice cracked as the word ‘appa’ came up, betraying her tightly maintained composure that was swiftly ripping itself away from her desperate clutches. She began sobbing softly, hushed whispers of indrawn breaths as she tried to calm down, while her son was still on the receiving end. Jaejoong narrowed his eyes, his dark irises raging an infernal fire, as he gripped his phone tightly.
“He.. He.. asked umma for money from you, so that he won’t go to the public with the information about your birth. Um-.. umma refused.. Of course. H-.. he stormed out, fuming when I refused, joong joong ah, he came back drunk! Drunk!” Her voice raised an octave higher, as she finally gave in to her agony, she rambled uncontrollably, harsh sobs that betrayed her composure, as she spiralled down into her own despair. “I haven’t seen him for 25 years and he comes back, looking just like when he left me. Pissed drunk, ranting about wanting more money for himself. He-.. h-… he said I was useful for once, for I had somehow managed to make a successful son..”
Her pain reverberated across the phone and shot its hooked barbs into his rampant heart, chaining and smothering him down into an abyss of keening misery, chafing his emotions raw and fresh, bleeding anew healing scars and wounds. She continued on mercilessly as he struggled to capture a firm hold upon his voice.
“I didn’t expect him to really go… he wasn’t supposed to go.. He was drunk.. That’s why I didn’t stop him.. I’m sorry joong ah! I’m so so sorry.. H-.. he went to them and spilled everything. Forgive umma, jae ah.. Umma feels like killing herself now as I failed to protect my boy, my son, my baby.. Oh my baby, I’m so sorry joong joong ah.. I know you didn’t want people to know, because you’re a celebrity, umma failed you.” Her crying had died down, replaced with an eerie stillness that was more unnerving than her weeping over the phone.
He was fighting an internal battle within himself, a part of him numbed by the shock of his umma’s breakdown and another part that screamed at him frenziedly to say something, any damn fucking thing. He could not.
He moved as if in a daze, the remaining shreds of his sane mind, urgently clearing his mind of any thoughts, removing the inevitable loom of the oncoming consequences to haunt him. His legs miraculously transported him woodenly towards the living room, inexorably drawn to the hushed murmurs of the other members and the professional, crisp voice of an anchorwoman reporting dispassionately, being delivered in a muted volume through the television speakers.
***
“Good evening, I’m Park Soo Yeong and hosting tonight with me is Jung Mi Nyeo. In entertainment news tonight, Korea is flabbergasted as fan girls are spotted nation-wide, having their loving image of Kim Jaejoong, shattered as news of his alleged double birth origins has been revealed by his real blood related father. Also popularly known as Hero or Youngwoong Jaejoong, he is the otherworldly beauty, lead singer of fast rising boy group, Dong Bang Shin Ki. They have shown considerable promise in other countries as well, with their Second Asia Concert Tour kicking off in central Tokyo next month. In light of their steadily rising popularity internationally, a blemish has finally arisen, a stain on their image as virtuous idols. Kim Jaejoong's real father has spoken out and revealed that Jaejoong's current father is actually not blood related at all.”
“Can you imagine that, Soo Yeong? Unbelievable, Korea’s beloved singer is actually adopted and his mother actually gave him up to Youngwoong Jaejoong's current surrogate mother when he was just a baby. Jaejoong's reported birth father, a man known as Mr. Han, has claimed that he is the biological father of Jaejoong. No further comment has been made about this matter, but the evidence so far is rather damning, don’t you think?”
“Yes, I quite agree. Our reporters had visited Hero’s current family earlier today and have questioned his family members about this issue. But they have declined to answer to our questions. No official word has been made by SM Entertainment, only to state that the accusations are untrue and that the man who released such information is lying. Well, I wonder why they are so reluctant to confront the issue, unless it actually has some credence to it. Simultaneously, hero’s anti-fans have increased in numbers drastically following the Media’s reports and many of them are currently stationed outside SME’s company dorms, protesting against his blatant lie that he has been saying this whole time. . .”
***
A clatter shattered the pin-drop tense silence that prevailed within the living room. The line went dead as his cell phone was smashed into smithereens, ending its fatal journey with a deafening crack. The little plastic bauble that hung cheerily on its end, skidded across the marble flooring, brutally snatched away, as it bounced pitifully on the carpet, landing in a forlorn heap. Its blissful smile seemed to mock him as it gazed back at him, its crinkled eyes winking good naturedly. It appeared to rebuke him for its unfair treatment.
Jaejoong felt a moment’s derision at its jolly mood, contrasting jarringly with the edgy silence that shot charged shocks of static through the prickly atmosphere. In an instant, it drowned away in the bottomless abyss that his mentality had created, shoving all emotion and grim thought he possessed away, leaving the serene blank slate that dominated all else to remain uninterrupted. Jaejoong paid it no heed as he raised his uncomprehending eyes to drift upon the television screen.
***
Yoochun startled at the sound and visibly jumped, rattling Junsu who was firmly ensconced within his embrace. Junsu let out a strangled cry at the sudden intrusion and his head whipped towards the source so fast, an audible crack resounded, following Jaejoong's entrance into their little bubble of silent contemplation. Yoochun winced in pain for him, before absentmindedly thumbing the sore spot, as both fixed stricken eyes upon Jaejoong's lifeless pair.
Yoochun searched deeply within the dark orbs for some recognition of what he had heard on the screen. Insensible eyes stared unseeingly back at him, dull dusky globes robbed of the silent strength of his formidable soul, as Jaejoong stood inert at the entrance of their living room. He made no move and simply remained rooted on the spot, as Changmin eyed his eldest member with apprehension.
The television blared ruthlessly the hard kept secret that Jaejoong had fought with teeth and nails to conceal, ever so afraid it would tear their tight knit group asunder, under the callous hands of the media. His deepest fears, tucked away behind a black curtain of lies were dredged up. So profoundly buried they were, that Jaejoong did not even acknowledge their existence within his subconscious mind.
Yoochun had a nagging disquiet that such an event would occur, ever since Jaejoong had unveiled the fragility of his heart, under the watchful eye of the moon, on a breezy summer night. It unfolded before his eyes, at the very present, gushing and flooding the room with its rank unsightly head reared up in defiance, grinning inexorably as it laved in the undue attention it garnered from the whole of Korea. There were too many variables left to question on their reliability, too many factors that could go awry, unlocking the beast from its gilded cage.
***
“Yoochun ah, life is good as it now right? Nothing with never upset it. Nothing.” Jaejoong mused quietly to the stars as they winked back at him, a slight breeze ruffling the edges of his pitch black tar hair.
“You sound very confident there jaejae, what makes you so sure about that? I’m not trying to be pessimistic here,” Yoochun flashed a sheepish grin towards the other, sprawled leisurely on a soft bed of grass, as he breathed deeply of the cold night air. “Just curious, I would like to sound as confident as you..”
The stars were close and bright tonight. It made the world seem a smaller place to have the sky so tantalizingly close. He felt that if he only stretched out his arms, the silky caress of the sky would stream delicately against his fingers, as he dipped them in the inky liquid.
Jaejoong hissed out a frustrated sigh as Yoochun's words brought back his spiteful insecurities, stinging and hooking their talons into his disquiet heart.
“What’s wrong.” Yoochun asked immediately, shifting his whole body to face the lithe singer, Jaejoong's bare face bathed in the milky light of the full moon, making him seem both eerie and angelic at the same time.
Yoochun had often caught himself wondering in silent amazement at every angular plane of Jaejoong's face, scrutinising each miniscule detail for a hint of a flaw. He was proven wrong every single instance. Instead of feeling a pang of jealously at his unblemished appearance, his fascinated curiosity only increased in strength.
It dragged a slight quirk of his lips upwards, as he smiled mockingly to the cloudless sky in derision at his convoluted emotions, when confronted with the frisking kitten that was solely Jaejoong.
“Yoochun ah, promise me you won’t tell this to anybody.” Jaejoong uttered softly, seemingly relaxed and at ease under the rustling leaves of their willow tree, the gentle gurgling of the river nearby, lending a peaceful ambience to their little bubble of solace. His eyes showed otherwise, as Yoochun noted the slight tightening of his eyes and the chilly frost that iced over his bottomless orbs, creating an impenetrable barrier to the crystal well of his emotions.
Yoochun's worry only deepened as Jaejoong had never uttered out loud the unspoken promise they kept with each other. They had connected together the first day they had met, his quiet resilience matching Yoochun's steady heartbeats, hand in hand. Jaejoong mirrored Yoochun, both reaching down into the very depths of each other’s pain, parting apart their torrent of emotions and painstakingly fitting the shattered pieces of their hearts back together. Like two parts of a puzzle, they simply clicked together, each flaw balanced out by the other. An unbreakable bond forged between two unlikely characters, linking them together with each breath they took.
“I promise.” Yoochun whispered fervently, overwhelming curiosity and numbing fear battling each other for dominance within his conflicted heart.
“You know how I have eight noona’s right? I know you’ve met some of them already,” Jaejoong began with slightly shaky words, betraying the immense dread he kept concealed from Yoochun. “Have you ever noticed that I don’t look anything like them? Apart from looking like a woman, of course.”
A pregnant pause filled the thickening air between them. His questions were met with silence and Jaejoong smiled softly in grateful appreciation, as he basked in Yoochun's fully captured attention, for Yoochun's understanding of Jaejoong's need for no interruptions.
Jaejoong shifted his body to face Yoochun, startling the other with his eyes that brimmed with unshed tears. He bit down harshly on his trembling lower lip to stifle the heaving sobs that threatened to drown him mercilessly, as they crushed his brittle self restraint against giving in to his sorrow.
“They’re not my real noona’s. My appa and umma are not my real parents. I have no blood relation to them at all. No biological connection. Not a single one.” Jaejoong's upper lips curled in bitter disgust aimed internally at himself, as he heard more than saw Yoochun's indrawn breath, shock at his revelation stunning their beaming baritone into stillness.
Jaejoong ploughed bravely ahead, refusing to consider the implications of his bold move, lest his volatile emotions breached his tightly woven defences, smothering him with a blind immobilising fear.
“My real mother lives in Kyungkido Mochu, my real father is unknown and I have a younger sister. My mum contacted me first, after we just debuted.” He snorted derisively, into the empty night. “You can imagine my surprise. I thought it was some crazy ahjumma that accidently found out my number instead of Yunho's. I almost didn’t answer it.”
He stared earnestly at Yoochun's dumbfounded amber eyes, searching frantically for some sign, some recognition of his damning words that had slithered insidiously out into the open, straight from his traitorous lips.
Yoochun was considerably flabbergasted, as he lay stationary within the comforting embrace of the grassy ground. His mind moved in frustratingly slow circles, pondering the words that had gushed out of Jaejoong's very soul, wrapping his mind fully around them, desiccating and dissecting them with clinical precision. He allowed each syllable to ensconce itself deeply within the hazy workings of his mind, as he met Jaejoong's fearful eyes with his unfocused gaze.
After a time, he finally spoke. Licking his lips, he continued with hesitant apprehension that finely laced his words. “So you mean that the ahjumma and ahjussi that gave us herbal tonics and overflowing baskets of fruits, the happy cheerful couple that has a huge family of daughters, is not actually your real parents?”
Jaejoong nodded, almost childlike as he basked under the serene caress of the moons milky fingers. Yoochun gulped visibly as the fact finally registered within his mind. He gripped Jaejoong's lax fingers within his firm grasp and whispered feverishly. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. Whatever it is, if you feel troubled by this, just come and talk to your little Mickey Mouse. I’ll always be here for you, for eternity, even until we’re old and wrinkled. You can’t get rid of me no matter how much you find me irritating. How’s that?” His mouth split into an unbearable grin, brimming with his natural defence to sadness.
He gently planted a kiss upon Jaejoong's forehead, before they both settled back into their companionable silence, revelling in the quiet of the night. Its charcoal surface, glowing with simmering embers of individual jewels, created a fascinating landscape of glistening iridescent lights.