The Truth Tellers

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/Plumes of smoke rise up from the electric range as Seungho flips green onion pancakes (pajeon) with his spatula, making sure to brown both sides. His face is sweaty and strands of hair are coming loose from his hairnet. As he toils, he speaks loudly to someone offscreen./

S: There's something I don't get, you know? 

Growing up, 

Bro never told me what to do. 

He was always so quiet...

Not like my other bros,

who always wanted me to get good grades

(and never shut up about it!)...

/Flashback: we cut to Seungho's immediate family. His mother is a small and dainty-looking woman with a long ponytail, and his father is a large burly man whose beard is starting to come through. His brothers seem to be cut from the same cloth as their father: men of solid build with an overabundance of facial hair. There is also a second woman, a young party girl with a high ponytail, who is holding a wiener dog like a designer handbag. Behind them, and at a remarkable distance, is young Taewoong./

Momma Im: Good luck!

Papa Im: Knock 'em dead, son!

Eldest bro: Yeah, c'mon you little good-for-nothing,

go crush some nerds!!

Middle bro: You gonna study now, 

You little weenie??

Cousin: Ha! Weenie!!

Actual weenie dog: Arf!

T: .../

/Seungho gives the jeon a flip as he continues,/

S: But ever since I got into his old company, it's been this constant noise of

/Flashback: Taewoong has one of Seungho's rare shoes in hand, and appears to be giving it some torque.

T: Seungie! Make sure you wear good shoes to practice!

And don't bring your fresh trainers - work them in first!

S: NOOO!! My YSLs!/

S: And,

/Flashback: Taewoong dispenses important advice.

T: Seungie! You have to set yourself apart - put up your hand if your instructor asks anything. 

S: ...But what if I get it wrong?

T: ...Are you planning to get things wrong??/

/Back in the present time, Seungho skewers a piece of overcooked jeon with his fork with murderous intent. He is a blubbering mess and his nostrils are flared. For emphasis, he shakes the fork as he rambles,/

S: If I could answer every question,

I'd be at a SKY university!

Mmph...

Ouch, it's hot! 

/We now see that Seungho's audience this whole time was Minho. Minho has a towel around his neck and his bleached hair, normally sticking out wildly in all directions, is hanging loosely around his face, suggesting that he just emerged from the shower./

Mh: ...

/With one quick motion, Minho leans over the table, grabs Seungho's hand with both of his own hands, and blows on the piece of jeon that was the cause of so much consternation./

Mh: Easy.

Sounds like

Uncle likes having something in common with you. 

/A little self-consciously, Seungho puts the jeon in his mouth, not taking his eyes off of Minho./

S: ...Weird take, 

I'm his brother? 

We already have something in common.

Mh: You sure you're brothers?

/Seungho folds his arms angrily./

S: HaHA, yes I'm sure! 

Heard that one before,

thank you very much!

/He spews indignantly, pieces of jeon flying out./

Mh: Then, 

if he's really your big bro, 

maybe respect that he knows what he's talking about, 

Even if he's being a hardass about it. 

He's been where you haven't, 

and it's better to hear it from him.

/Minho says, scratching lightly behind his ear. Seungho, whose mouth and chin are still covered in crumbs, seems a little taken aback by Minho's rejoinder./

Mh: You always wanted him to take you along, right? 

S: I mean...I did. 

I did want that...but...

Mh: So if he didn't lift a finger to help you, 

you'd be mad about that instead?

S: ...Well, 

now I'm confused.

/He replies, looking sheepish. Why does Minho have to be so gosh darned reasonable all the time? Sometimes Seungho catches himself wishing that his friend was more like the besties you see in Disney TV specials, the kind that give the hero unconditional support no matter what kind of scrape he falls into. But if Minho were like that, then he wouldn't be Minho, would he?/

Mh: Maybe someday, 

you'll wake up and feel differently again,

Like this time wasn't as bad as you imagined,

And it could always be worse.

S: How?

Mh: He could need your help.

/At that, Minho's tone becomes faraway, as if washed out by rain./

Mh: One day, 

when you're rubbing his tired old feet, 

Maybe you'll even miss this version of Uncle.

One day.

/He says. Meanwhile, the pajeon - with green onion and leftover tteokbokki chunks! His favourite kind! - sits half-eaten and surgically carved on his plate./

S: Uhh...hhm, 

I get that...but,

now my olfactory reflex is in overdrive, Dude.

Boy, I hope he finds someone else to do that for him!

Tired old feet, yuck.

/Rubbing his nose, Seungho rises from the table. Minho looks up at Seungho a moment, then back down - and allows whatever was preoccupying him to be washed away by the flow of conversation./

S: Minho, you doing anything after this? 

Wanna play the Switch? Then practice this week's choreo?

Mh: ...Yeah, s'OK. You got a practice room booked?

S: No, but let me ask Channie...

/The two of them quickly set off. Minho's towel, which he had draped over the top of his chair, sits abandoned. He drops a napkin over his uneaten pajeon and steps away from the table./

/Outro: Taewoong is helping Seungho put on his jacket./

S: But Bro, isn't failure a part of life, too?

T: And what would you fail to? 

Other arm.

S: ...