21.

A single spotlight shone on the stage, illuminating the woman’s elegant and fluid movements. Her dancing held so much feeling, so much meaning. It seemed as if she was telling some sort of story through it and its beauty only added to the spectators awe and admiration. When the lights went out, claps sounded all throughout the theatre. A little boy clapped along with the audience, a proud smile could be seen on his face. Next to him stood his father with a smile of his own. That was the first time he saw his mother performing and he wanted nothing more than to stand on stage by her side, sharing that same spotlight.

Sehun’s mother was a world-renown ballerina. He had spent most of his youth tagging along to her rehearsals and performances and had grown to love this form of art ever since. He had also begged his father to let him enroll in a dance class, the genre he was mostly interested in being Hip-Hop. His mother welcomed the idea with open arms and had managed (albeit difficultly) to convince her husband. Why was he so against the idea, seeing how his wife danced for a living? The answer was quite simple. Sehun was his only son, the only heir to the family’s business.

He wanted him to lead a fulfilling life. To be the best version of himself. To be successful. He wanted him to focus on his studies. To get into a prestigious university. To be qualified and worthy of inheriting the company after he, himself, retires. To be able to face the board of directors. To be able to take a stand. To be respected. To be influential. To be responsible.

To make something out of his life and not waste his time on trivial activities such as dancing. Dancing won’t do him any good. It won’t get him anywhere. It won’t.

Sehun’s life has already been planned from the get go, his future goals were already set (and distractions of any kind weren’t welcomed). All that was left for him was to follow in his father’s footsteps, to follow the path his old man had laid out for him. His father just wanted the best for him. He wanted his son to be a man of importance. He wanted him to lead a comfortable life-style (one that was similar to the one he currently has.)

But doesn’t his son’s opinion matter? Does he even know what his son’s likes and dislikes are? Does he even care to know? Does he care about his son at all? (He does, every parent does and maybe this is just his way of showing that he does.)

He thinks he knows what’s best for his son. But does he? (No, no he doesn’t).

But things weren’t always like this. They weren’t. They were happy once. A long, long time ago.

A four year old boy cried when he fell off his bike (for the third time in a row), a big cut was present on his leg. The boy sniffled, blinking away his tears. He had mentally vowed to never get on that bike ever again, giving up is better than getting hurt anyway.

A warm hand ruffled his hair, making him look up in surprise.

“Don’t cry son, you’ll just have to try again and again until you get better.”

The boy pouted, “What if I don’t? What if I fall again?”

His father chuckled and helped him up, “There’s nothing wrong with falling, what matters the most is getting up when you do.”

He dusted his son’s clothes with a smile, “Come on let’s get your cut all cleaned up.”

The man squatted beside his son and offered him his back, “Get on.”

The boy grinned and hopped on his father’s back, “How about we get some ice cream while we’re at it?”

His son nodded his head excitedly, “Chocolate for me.”

His father chuckled, aware of his son’s new-found love for the flavor, “Chocolate it is then.”

Their laughter could be heard from a distance.

(Some precious memories can be found, only if you look closely enough.)

“Open it.”

The boy happily unwrapped his present. (It was his seventh birthday.)

An Iron Man action figure laid beneath the glittering paper.

Sehun jumped excitedly as he waved the figurine in the air.

“Thank you so much Dad!”

Iron Man was his favorite superhero.

His father chuckled and hugged him, “anything for my favorite boy”

His wife looked at them with a smile.

(All was well. For now.)

A few years later things started to change. His father’s company was slowly growing and it took all of his attention. All of it.

“Let’s wait a bit more!”

The boy exclaimed with a pout.

The woman sighed and gently his cheek, “It’s getting late baby. You have school tomorrow.”

The boy frowned at the thought of going to that dungeon-like place. He shook his head, “He’ll come.”

Today was his birthday (his tenth birthday to be exact) well in an hour or so it wouldn’t be anymore. His father was out working (per usual) and had been absent throughout all the festivities, little Sehun had been refusing to sleep wanting to see his father knowing fully well that the man had something planned for him, a gift of some sort like always.

His mother sat next to him on the couch, tucking him into the warm blanket that was sprawled over their bodies. The boy rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes and stifled a yawn, making his mother smile lightly as she caressed his hair.

The opening of the door made the boy bolt out of his mother’s embrace, earning a chuckle in response to his enthusiasm.

“Daddy!”

The boy ran to the man expecting a bone-crushing hug only to receive a pat on the head.

The man had eye bags under his eyes (from his numerous hours at the office) this was a critical time for the company. He had lost his main supplier and was trying to find a new one while staying loyal to their production deadline, everything was a mess and the man wanted nothing more than to get a couple hours of sleep before he headed back to that on-going storm.

“Not now Sehun.”

His father ran a hand through his unkempt hair, eyes droopy as he made his way towards the staircase.

“But Dad!”

His mother stood by the sideline, hating the hurt look that was present on her son’s face. She knew her husband was having a difficult time at work but the least he could do was wish his son a happy birthday. Her husband briefly glanced her way before he went up the stairs. A tug was felt on the bottom of his pants, making the man sigh in irritation.

“I said not now Sehun!”

The young boy’s lip trembled at his father’s harsh tone and cold eyes. The said man brushed him off and disappeared up the stairs.

The boy blinked away his tears. He had forgotten his birthday. Sehun had stayed up all night waiting for him and his father didn’t even give him a second glance. He just easily dismissed him and left, just like that as if his son didn’t matter (maybe he didn’t, not to him).

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