Cyan's gift— the grey
muffler — lay on Joon's desk, untouched and dusted, as pristine as the
day when he had given it to Joon. Staring at the piece of fabric
couldn't bring Cyan back. A week had passed, and Cyan hadn't contacted
him. At all.
Joon used to jump up and
grab his phone the second it lit up, only to meet with an unending
despair and hopelessness. He just never seemed to learn. Cyan wasn't
calling him back. Joon sighed and pressed the phone to his ears, saying a
dry hello to his brother.
"12-06-07," Joon said. "Get inside yourself."
Joon tossed the phone on
his couch and resumed to stare at the steaming bowl of black bean
noodles before him. Depression had him lazing around at home, skipping
his daily workout and gorging on junk food.
Minutes later, his
doorbell beeped and an entire family was ushered in, completely
uninvited. Joon's Harbinger-of-Chaos nephews rushed straight to the
couch and plopped themselves without a greeting or a permission, while
Joon's sister in law rushed after them to give them an earful.
"Hey," Woong sat down before Joon. "How are you?"
"Why are you here?" Joon put his chopsticks down and grabbed a tissue to dab his mouth.
"You haven't been picking up my calls. Or anyone else's."
"So?" Joon licked his
teeth and resumed eating. The background was filled with the chatter of
his nephews, and Joon wanted to yeet them out of the window. Noisy
crickets. Lala was so much quieter than those two brats. And cuter.
"You're way out of your rebellious phase. Grow up, Joon."
"I am not rebelling. They are," Joon said.
"You think I didn't know that you are gay? Come on, Joon. I know about those magazines. You could have hidden them better."
"Oh well, you thought I
didn't know that you knew?" Joon threw his brother a pointed glare.
"Hyung, you could have taken my side."
"That's what I am doing
right now," Woong said with a smile. "Sara is cool about it, and my kids
are excited about getting another uncle. So we're on your side, Joon."
"It doesn't really
matter now." Joon threw his dirty chopsticks in the empty bowl and stood
up, walking across the dining area to dump the bowl in the kitchen
dustbin. "And he has a daughter. He doesn't… he doesn't want her growing
up with gay people." Joon's face scrunched. Speaking those words out
loud disgusted him.
"That's a massive
internalized homophobia right there." Woong's eyebrows furrowed. "Joon,
are you sure you want to date this guy?"
Seo Cyan. He wasn't easy
to deal with, in all earnesty. Joon didn't enjoy rejections, nor did he
enjoy having Cyan trample over his emotions every damn time. But there
was something about him, inexplicable, inevitable, just waiting to
happen. Seo Cyan wasn't what he seemed.
Joon knew his answer.
"I do."
________
"And then Cinderella
lived with Prince Charming, happily ever after." Cyan closed the book
softly and booped his daughter's nose. He reached over to flick the
switch of the night lamp, but felt Lala snuggle against him.
"Did you not like the story?"
"I did…" Lala said.
"But?"
"But why did it have to
be a Prince, Appa?" Lala suddenly climbed over Cyan's stomach and leaned
to his face curiously, her wide eyes reminding Cyan of a cat
momentarily.
"Because Princes and Princesses are the heroes of the story?" Cyan felt unsure of his own answer.
"Why couldn't it be a raccoon?"
"Lala, listen. I know
you like raccoons but humans can't be raccoons. And raccoons don't talk
in real life. They can't even do taekwondo."
Lala fell quiet. Cyan
didn't like it when his daughter was soundless. It felt ominous. Like a
question the size of a moral asteroid was going to crash on Cyan and
shake the foundation of his baseless beliefs.
"Why didn't Cinderella learn taekwondo then? She is human."
"Because she had no one to learn it from. And they don't do taekwondo in France."
"What do they do in
France?" Lala's sleep was evading at a dangerous speed. That was another
question whose answer Cyan didn't know. And he had no idea what France
was like in the times of Cinderella.
"They build machines. And iron sculptures. Like the Eiffel Tower."
"Why did Cinderella's step sisters bully her, Appa?"
"Do you have a hard time
believing that story?" Cyan asked softly. His daughter rolled off his
stomach and curled up beside him, her fingers coming up to play with his
outstretched palm.
"No," she said, "it's
just that… It was weird how girls bullied Cinderella and a boy rescued
her. It's the opposite in my class."
Cyan frowned. "Who bullied you?"
"Not me…" Lala pouted.
"But Sungwon and the other boys keep calling Mirae fat. They said she
looks like a pig. And no one would marry her. They also said she looks
ugly."
"Well those boys can go —"
"I said I would."
"Eh?"
"I said I would marry Mirae. She's my friend. I can't leave her behind. And then I kicked Sungwon."
Cyan chuckled. "I
shouldn't encourage you but that was funny. Lala, remember what Yang
said? Always use strength only when it's absolutely necessary. Use words
when words work. That's what makes us different from humans."
"But Yang also said that we are all animals deep inside!"
Cyan needed to buy new,
more complicated storybooks. His daughter wasn't going to be satisfied
with Princess stories anymore. The girl was more interested in wildlife
and mountains.
"Appa, don't lie to me. Did you fight with Ahjussi?"
Cyan couldn't lie to his daughter. She would see it through his face and then learn to lie herself.
"Yes," he admitted softly.
"Why?"
"Because… people will laugh at us if we remain friends."
"Then I will kick them. Like Yang does."
"Lala, do you like
Ahjussi?" Cyan couldn't see his daughter's face in the dark. Sometimes,
she reminded him of all the good times with Haesun. Back when he had
loved her. Lala reminded him of all the good things in his life, his
positive memories, his happy times.
And whenever he looked at her, he felt a little sad. His little raccoon was growing up.
"Do you like him, Appa?"
Cyan wasn't expecting that question. "Maybe," he smiled, "I just might."
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