Autoimmune Disorder + Type A Behavioural Pattern > IHD (+ Defective X Chromosome) > Hemophilia B (+ Fibrillin Deficiency Genetic Disorder) > Marfan Disease 

Hyper Intelligence + Nurture Negligence > Sociopathy 

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6:14 AM

“All the records of the last five years are missing, Mr Yoo.”

“They aren’t missing. They don’t exist,” answered Youngjae without missing a beat.

The doctor quirked an eyebrow, head tilting in the action Youngjae associated with surprise. This somewhat reassured him that the man did not know who he was outside his medical records. This was good. This new doctor was unlikely to go declaring Youngjae’s existence to his family.

He’d work it out anyway, Youngjae thought glumly. This doctor wasn’t that much older than him.

“Moving on then,” said the doctor, flipping past the first few pages of the thick folder in front of him.

“Autoimmune disorder since birth, compromised X chromosome detected at age two. Left untreated for two years. Only after detection of hyper-intelligence, type A behavioural pattern, did you start receiving medical attention,” the young doctor skimmed, “further research of hyper-intellect was conducted for ten years in addition to medical prescriptions for your genetic disorders. You were diagnosed with IHD at age thirteen despite having taken vaccination.”

Youngjae’s chest clenched but he continued to pretend that the sting of the past could not hurt him anymore.

“During your thirty-first hyper-intellect examinations in Boston, evidence of…brain damage were found rendering further advancements invalid.” The doctor started to frown. “With psychological examinations, your sociopathic pattern emerged. It is believed to have been caused by…nurture negligence and abuse.”

Youngjae closed his eyes, forcing himself to remain calm. He could feel the doctor’s inquisitive gaze on him. He was probably wondering what kind of a messed up Youngjae was. He chided himself, This is why you should’ve picked somebody older!

The other part of him argued, You spent days pulling strings to get him; he’s your best shot.

“Immediate medical attention was advised, yet it was left untreated. Age fourteen, treatments for your other illnesses stopped entirely.” The doctor sounded more wary. Youngjae knew it was because the man feared hurting his feelings.

It was only your intelligence that gave them a reason to prolong your life. A nasty feeling fused his insides. You’d always been dead to your family the second you were born.

“Age fifteen, no hospital visits until late March, in Seoul…a back injury and excessive bleeding. You were diagnosed with haemophilia B, in addition to…your other genetic disorders. Joint injury, late May…fibrillin deficit detected, leading to the threat of Marfan–”

“You get the idea,” interrupted Youngjae, not being able to take it anymore. He could take his unloved life being recounted but not that declination of professionalism, the sympathy and pity.

He wasn’t the right man for the job after all.

Youngjae started to get up. “Now if you don’t mind–”

“Sit down,” interrupted the doctor, his hard tone back on as he watched his patient, challenging him to leave the room without his permission. “Mr Yoo.”

Youngjae sighed and slumped back down, any sign of earlier composed body language gone. He felt exhausted, frustrated and sick.

“Why are you here?” The doctor asked without tact, closing the binder with a loud thud.

Youngjae jerked, meeting the man’s grave stare with a of his head.

“Are you here to ruin my career before it can even start?” The young doctor continued, quirking an eyebrow.

Youngjae stared at him for the longest time. It was incredible to see so much of yourself in somebody else and to know that that somebody got a better fate than you. He almost pitied himself, but not as much as he pitied this young doctor. The man, like the rest of this world, would not be able to understand what life was like. They all lived in their own bubbles, relying on their ability to self-deceive.

It was pathetic.

But the alternative would be you, a voice chided, Would you want to curse such a life on anyone?

Yes. His father, maybe. Not because he’d left Youngjae to die, but because he had inflicted so much pain on the world — physically, psychologically, professionally. Those who destroyed the future deserved to suffer, Youngjae thought. Call him inhuman, heartless or whatever, it wasn’t like anybody would know how different he was from his father anyway.

Not even Moon Jongup, the boy who gave you your courage, Youngjae thought bitterly.

Youngjae in a sharp breath, keeping a steady gaze on the doctor in front of him. Barely four years older.

“I chose you for one purpose,” said Youngjae, eyes dark and foreboding. “Your purpose is not to do the impossible. I picked you, because I trust you will explain the impossible to me.”

“Meaning?”

Youngjae smiled, feeling as brittle as ice.

“How am I not dead?”

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