BZZZ. BZZZ. BZZZ.

“Ugh,” I groaned into my pillow.

My old smartphone, which I kept just in case something happened to my latest one, vibrated loudly on the nightstand. I squinted my right eye open and glanced at my glow-in-the-dark clock.

It was 6:00 A.M. on a Saturday morning. Meaning I had only gotten three hours of sleep.

They can wait.

The phone went silent. I was almost asleep again, then…

BZZZ. BZZZ. BZZZ.

I swear if it’s Donghyun, he’s gonna get it at the next practice. Didn’t he get enough action last night?

I reached over and grabbed the device without bothering to check the caller ID when I accepted the call.

“You better have a good reason for waking me up this early,” I growled.

“Minwoo,” said a familiar, desperate voice.

I wished it was Donghyun, but it was my father.

“It’s been a while since you picked up. Why was your number set to automatic voicemail last night? I called so many times.”

“I dropped my phone in the sink.”

“Is that so? Well, anyway. I heard there’s a new café in Gangnam. They open in thirty minutes.”

“What... are you implying, Dad?”

I just wanted to sleep the day away. Days where I could sleep in without an alarm set were rare.

“Let’s go eat breakfast together, Minwoo.”

“Dad, the sun is barely up yet.”

“Don’t Westerners say, ‘The early bird gets the worm’? You should know, since you understand all those languages.”

I only know two, and one of them is practically universal.

“I don’t know, Dad. I had a long evening yesterday. I’m tired.”

“Minwoo. Please.”

Crap. Not the P-word. That was my weakness. I knew I was going to give in. Even if I said no, he’d come running to my apartment regardless. Knowing him, he was the type to camp out in front of the door until I came out.

“Fine. What’s the name of the place?”

***

I waited at a corner table of the luxurious café my father told me to meet him at. My coffee was cold because he told me to be there at 7:00. It was 8:30.

“I should’ve known,” I grumbled.

Just as I stood up to leave, I heard my name from across the small restaurant.

“Minwoo! I’m sorry, my boy. You know how traffic can be,” he hiccupped.

The unkempt man stumbled and almost fell over a college couple trying to enjoy their Belgian waffles sprinkled with golden flakes.

“Sorry, sorry,” he belched when he knocked over their orange juice.

Everyone stared. The manager watched carefully. My cheeks turned crimson. I was so embarrassed when he sat down across from me. He reeked of alcohol.

“Dad,” I greeted while gritting my teeth. “I thought we were past the morning drinking.”

He didn’t hear me since he was already snapping his fingers for an employee to come serve him. The waitress came over but stood closer to my end.

He rudely said, “I’ll have the ham and cheese croissant sandwich with a side of American hash browns. The...” he trailed off as he sounded out the words on the menu. “The eggs Benedict and a large coffee too, babe.”

“Dad,” I warned after hearing the condescending pet name.

Not cool.

“And for you, sir?” she inquired. Her smile was warmer towards me since I had treated her with respect earlier. “Do you want another frappuccino?”

“Yes, ma’am. That’d be great. Thank you.”

After she left, I asked, “You’re going to eat all that?”

“Of course! A man’s gotta eat!” he bolstered. His soju-laced breath made me cough. “Also, what a catch, am I right? Do you think she has a boyfriend?”

I didn’t reply. I changed the topic. For the next twenty minutes, we had an awkward conversation about common small-talk topics—the weather, politics, the weather, baseball, the weather, cars, and the weather. Oh, did I mention we talked about the weather?

Ugh...

I was running out of things to discuss. Plus, my father was being very talkative, trying to butter me up. I had a hunch about what was coming.

“So, Dad, why did you want to mee—?”

Our waitress returned with a tray packed with food. Most of it wasn’t mine. She put each plate meticulously on the table before handing my father the bill.

Dad grimaced at the piece of paper hanging in front of his face, then explained, “Oh, um... I forgot my wallet so, uh, Minwoo?”

So typical. I grabbed it, knowing it was going to be pricey. We were in one of Seoul’s richest areas. I mean, half of their menu came with truffle oil and edible flowers.

“I got it,” I said to keep the peace.

The place didn’t deserve a drunken outburst that would result in damages that would lead to another sentence added to his extensive criminal record.

Dad smiled, then we ate without talking. My leg shook up and down since I was antsy to leave that uncomfortable setting. Dad and I had a strenuous relationship. He was my father, the only parent I had. I felt like I had to stay in his life and take care of him. But at what cost?

He could barely hold a job and was constantly getting fired for not showing up. He needed me.

“Minwoo,” Dad said, finally breaking the silence. He burped before adding, “I need your help. You see, well... They’re back.”

There it was. I knew there was an underlying reason why he wanted to see me. There was never not a reason.

“What happened to the money I transferred to you last week? Did you use it for this month’s loan bill?”

He avoided my eyes. I could tell he was ashamed.

“Dad?”

He shoved mouthfuls of food in his mouth, not wanting to answer. I pushed my glass across the top, utterly disappointed.

“For those loan shark cronies to visit you, you would’ve had to miss more than one month’s payment. How many? How many did you not pay?”

“Three,” he mumbled.

“Th-three?! Where’s the money, Dad? I can’t give you that much today. You promised to use it for your loans! It’s not easy for me to give you a portion of my salary. I’ve been living paycheck to paycheck because of it. Did you gamble it away again?” I asked as my voice rose.

The patrons next to our table whispered.

“Listen here, boy, you’re overreacting. What I do with the money is none of your business,” Dad snapped, also irritated.

In reality, that was who my father was. He only talked to me when he was in a pickle. Thanks to his addiction to the pachinko slot games and illegal online gambling apps, he found himself borrowing money from sketchy loan companies. To prevent those mafia guys from knocking on my own door, I was helping him pay them back. I prayed he would never illegally add my name to the paperwork.

At least, I was trying to help him pay them. I rarely left Seoul for vacation because there wasn’t any money to spare. That was the cost of maintaining my heartbreaking relationship.

And… “none of my business”? The audacity!

“Of course, it is! It’s my hard-earned money.”

“What, at that fancy-smancy idol company where you hippity-hop all day? Come on, boy. You would’ve been making so much more if you hadn’t dropped out of medical school!” he hollered.

I didn’t even bother with a snide remark. He knew very well why I left college. What a jab at me! At his own son! That conversation was a broken record. Everyone knew his wishes for me to be a doctor, but I ruined that for him when I left college after two months of going. I told him why countless times. He only wanted to believe I had quit because that sort of cookie-cutter life wasn’t for me.

Dad didn’t want to acknowledge the real reason. And that was why I wasn’t going to talk to anyone about it ever again. Everyone just wrote it off as me being overly sensitive after that incident.

All of a sudden, his demeanor changed from defensive to shattered like he was about to cry.

“I promise this is the last time. I swear. Then I’ll get help with my problems. Please. It’s been so hard ever since your mother…” Dad choked up.

Quite frankly, I was stunned he brought her up. He had never done so even at his lowest. He had never used her against me. Until then.

When she died from breast cancer, I was only eleven years old. Dad went on a downward spiral, never recovering from the bottomless abyss he created for himself. My studies and his reckless hobbies to bet all of our savings were the only things he cared about. My passions and social life were irrelevant. Just cramming endless books about anatomy, physiology, and medicine was what mattered.

I was glad my sister broke it off with us when she did. I never heard from her again. The pressure was the reason I began to sneak out at night. It helped me discover the amazing world of street dancing.

The manager was whispering to another person—maybe the boss. They were looking at my sniffling dad. I couldn’t stand seeing someone upset like that, even if it was an act. What was I supposed to do?

I exhaled as his guilt trip ate at me.

“Fine, but this is the final time. No more after this. You need to work full-time, not the part-time thing you’ve been doing at the grocery store. Just… help me help you, Dad.”

He relaxed his shoulders and looked glad to hear I was giving him more money. The tears seemed to suck back up into his eyes.

“Thanks, Minwoo. I’ll go straight to the loan company and pay off the overdue amount. Also, do you have a suggestion for a new job? Can you be my reference?”

“Why?” I asked sternly.

“Just, well... Some stuff happened with my attendance, so I was let go.”

I mumbled “Whatever” as I transferred a decent chunk of money to his bank. Before we could bother the employees any further, I paid for the expensive breakfast at the front register.

There goes my funds for a new phone. I might be skipping meals next month.

When I turned around, Dad was already out the door. He seemed anxious to get somewhere. My heart panged.

“See ya, Minwoo! I’ll call you again soon.”

Please don’t, I thought.

I already had enough to deal with. Such as facing Pinkie on Monday.