[warning: seungcheol is ]

Chapter 17: Alpas 

alpas: tagalog; (v.) to become free; to break loose 

The ride was quiet, awfully and unusually silent. Hansol laid in the backseat, listening to hip-hop music through his headphones while Jihoon sat in the passenger’s seat. The car was fast-moving, passing over the trees and bushes that nearly became a hazy blur. Jihoon noticed that Seungcheol’s eyes were fixed on the road, unfazed, mumbling curses whenever they come across other cars while driving. Jihoon knew that he always do this when he’s stressed out.

They were both a mixture of discomfort and frustration. But he can already feel Seungcheol’s heavy breathing when the distant image of his house appeared. As the driving became bumpier and angrier, Jihoon poked Seungcheol’s cheek to gain his attention. “Cheol, we might die, be careful.”

“U-Uh..yes,” Seungcheol woke up from his trance and quickly glanced at Jihoon before returning his gaze in front, finally steadying the speed. He gulped down and asked wearily, “Are you ready?”

Jihoon blinked a few times before chuckling, “Look who’s talking, I should be asking you.”

Seungcheol breathed in deeply, reaching for Jihoon’s thighs and giving them a light squeeze as if they’re the only source of his comfort. “Well, I should be ready. It’s just that – I never cared this much over meeting my own parents. I used to talk a lot, without the feeling of being agitated. But....”

“What makes today any different?” Jihoon asked, shifting in his seat.

“I have something to lose.”

Seungcheol’s mellow yet low voice made Jihoon soften his eyes and heart race, placing his hand on Seungcheol’s own that rests gently on Jihoon’s inner thigh. “You won’t lose me, Seungcheol. Trust me,” he reassured. Seungcheol moved his hand closer to Jihoon’s groin but stopping right before it, innocently moving it in a circular motion. He furrowed his eyebrows, revealing his wrinkly forehead that lines his distress and uneasiness.

Jihoon held back a moan, aware that this isn’t the right time to be by a simple gesture. When Seungcheol’s hand twitch, Jihoon looked up at the driver worryingly, knowing that the man was more bothered than before. Seungcheol appeared like he was pummeled into pressure that he didn’t welcome in his life, likely wanting to run away from it. It made Jihoon think that maybe Seungcheol’s really afraid of losing everything he has now. And Jihoon felt the same. “Stop thinking too much, you’ll age immediately,” Jihoon crooned, lightly hitting Seungcheol’s forehead to distract him.

Seungcheol let out a prolonged sigh, hands possessively and unknowingly hovering over Jihoon’s skin. “I just remembered how my father said about you. I don’t want to hear it again, you didn’t deserve any of that.”

“It’s okay...I’m fine.”

“The hell – no it isn’t. Weren’t you bothered?” Seungcheol hardened his tone, narrowing eyes a bit more.

Jihoon simpered, smiling, “No, not at all. I mean...you were there for me.”

Seungcheol hummed in response, pleasantly this time. Sometimes he needed to hear that; that he still had a purpose. Jihoon’s here and that’s all he should be thinking about, instead of him leaving. Jihoon asked, “So stay strong, please? Do it for me?”

Jihoon is Seungcheol’s weakness, no matter what he does, he just can’t resist the boy. “As you wish, your highness.”

Seungcheol momentarily glanced at Jihoon, minding the road still, feeling his spirits leap up. Jihoon averted his gaze immediately, rosy cheeks deepening from embarrassment “Do it for me” why the hell did I say that? His heart pounded against his chest, fortunately not too loud for anyone to hear but unluckily too strong to be felt by him.

“Jihoon, thank you.”

Seungcheol knew the boy was flustered since he can’t even utter a single word, just a whimper in response. Seungcheol will protect him with all his life, no matter what will happen. Not because of what he feels when Jihoon is around but because of what he wants to be when he’s there. And sometimes, when he looked at Jihoon, he just wants to kiss him innocentlyly and not ually – just kiss him. Just make him happy. This...this might be what true love is.

Blood rushed to Seungcheol’s cheeks as he thought, ...that was so cheesy.

And the whole ride was composed of them blushing and being ashamed to look at each other. 

Seungcheol’s grip on Jihoon’s hand tightened as they approach the doorstep, footsteps getting heavier each time as if he’s afraid that Jihoon will disappear right then and there. He inhaled intensely before motioning Mr. Shin to open the door. Hansol patted his brother’s back as the door gapes wide open, as if it was mocking all three men standing upon it. A familiar woman was pacing back and forth near the sofas was instantly revealed, Seungcheol took shallow breaths in hopes it would calm his already fuming self. His mom was there, it was fine. But where is the real devil here? Her face morphed into a delighted expression as she turned his head around to meet them. She neared them and one by one approached with an awkward hug that is half-heartedly reciprocated, as if she forgot what had happened before. She greeted, extending her sweet smile, “Have you guys eaten? I prepared dinner!”

Before Seungcheol could ever say anything, Jihoon shushed him in order to restrain himself from dropping any bad remarks against his own mother when Jihoon realized what Mrs. Choi is trying to do. She’s merely setting up a friendlier atmosphere to ease Seungcheol’s worries and doubts. Maybe it will go on well.

They reluctantly stepped inside the dining room, following Mrs. Choi into it with every threatening step upon seeing a middle-aged man sitting at the other end of the table as if he was a businessman readying himself for a business meeting. The man uncomfortably shifted in his seat, becoming more aware of the boys’ presence in the room. They all took their seats, Seungcheol sitting on the other end.

The table was laden with bright delicacies and full-coursed meals. But Seungcheol already lost his appetite the moment he stepped into the house and Jihoon was still full from their date a few hours ago. Jihoon took a few bites of the loaf bread and baby carrots, just to respect how eager and decent Seungcheol’s parents are in this talk. He felt the increasing tension building up between the father and son sitting opposite of one other, as if a lightning bolt was lighting up between them even if they never once looked up at each other. Seungcheol was too busy staring at his plate and Mr. Choi was too busy adjusting his collar. But Jihoon wasn’t the only one that noticed. Hansol kicked his mother’s shin discreetly, glaring at her to make her talk. Ah so Hansol’s a part of this, Jihoon suspected as much. She rolled his eyes and quickly regained her smiley façade; she turned to Jihoon to break the silence, “Jihoon, do you like the food?”

"Yes Ma'am," Jihoon nodded hesitantly, wary of what’s about to be asked next in this heavy atmosphere. He heard Mrs. Choi exclaims, “Eat well, then!"

After his mom’s few awkward attempts at breaking the ice, Hansol whispered to her subtly, “Mom, we talked about this.”

Seungcheol couldn’t hear any of them, he was an erupting volcano inside, although, his face showed a numb, gloomy expression. He wanted to punch something or preferably someone that can take it. He wanted to throw off the table, make a scene and escape like always but he can’t do that. All he ever wanted right now is to hear his parents speak up and stop beating around the bush, especially his silent old man that stayed eating at the other end of the table. Firstly, Seungcheol would be the one expected to speak but it seems that he wouldn’t bother doing so.

After a few minutes of deafening silence, a hoarse voice echoed throughout the hall, gaining all their attention. His father cleared his throat and mumbled motionlessly, “I was wrong.” Everyone stopped all their movement, dropped their silverware and looked up at the man with surprised and questioning looks, in an exception for Seungcheol.

Mr. Choi glanced at them one by one before halting his gaze on Jihoon, apologetically staring. “Forgive me.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widened in horror mixed with amusement, staring at his lap intently. His father who he never heard say apologies, his father who had a bigger ego than he has...is the same father begging for forgiveness now. This must be a dream, a too-good-to-be-true kind of thing.

Jihoon stuttered but still found the words he had to say. “I-I already did, Mr. Choi.”

Mr. Choi gently smiled, “Don’t call me that anymore, I am dad.”

Jihoon reciprocated the warmth he received, finally feeling the conflict and hatred lift away from them, as if everything will be alright. Mr. Choi looked away, eyes traveling everywhere until they stop and pinned on his son. Seungcheol’s eyebrows furrowed when he felt the burning gaze digging into his skin, frightened but prepared for what he was about to hear. An apology? An insult? A joke? His father cleared his throat once more, feeling a twinge of guilt. “Yesterday, Hansol, Nihyo and I talked. I never thought how wrong I was until they made me realize that you were in the right all along. My apologies cannot take back all the things that I’ve said nor they can change all the things I’ve put you through. But I am sincerely sorry. For the years of my absence, lack of understanding, and selfishness. You grew up to be a man and I failed to acknowledge that as a parent. I won’t beg you to forgive me but I hope you find it in you to give me another chance to redeem my responsibility as your father, Seungcheol. There are no excuses that I can make to hide my shame. I’m wrong and I’m sorry, son.”

After a few minutes of processing what he just heard, Seungcheol finally looked up, appearing nonchalant and emotionless, but underneath, he was struggling to utter the right words for the situation. His father never apologized to him; the word sorry is a distant memory that never sounded its way to Seungcheol. That’s why he never learned to say it himself too.  So why now? Why?

He let out a gaspy breath of air, eyes glinting with tears welling up but completely holding his composure. His lower lip trembled as he spoke, “What took you so long?”

“I-“

“You don’t know how many years I wanted to hear that from you...dad.”

There was a brief moment of silence in the whole room, while they try to take in what had happened. His mother, impatient as always, stood up abruptly before extending her arms widely. “Boys, come here! What you need is...a hug of reconciliation!”

They shyly stood up except for Jihoon who was giggling and observing their cuteness, wrapped in a hug. Mr. Choi noticed the grinning boy and motioned a hand as a form of invitation, “Jihoonie, join us!” The shorter boy slowly stood up and was immediately pulled in by Seungcheol as they all sunk into the warmest embrace each one of them had experienced. There was a sense of familiarity, like a home suddenly recovered. A treasure in a sunken boat found.

Mrs. Choi's laughter muffled in the hug while asking, “When’s the wedding?”

♦

“Attention, Seniors!” An old teacher in front started, clapping his hands to gain their attention. When he did, he continued, “So let’s start. I’m calling on our facilitator to explain today’s event.” It’s happening, the main event: the camp. The sun was scorching hot in the audience since it was straight in the morning so that they should be sweaty and active at most, in preparation for today. Even the school rented a beach resort solely for this, proving the event’s worth and how much the parents are willing to participate in the financial expenses.

Ms. Lee confidently stood in front of the students who are in seated either in an Indian or kneeling position. They lazily greeted back, energy drained from their vacation. “I said...Good Morning!” She screamed and they almost screamed their lungs out in return; she always gets what she wants.

She snapped his fingers to stop them and sighed. “Man, I remember some of you as little kids running in the halls, now you’re all grown up and ready to go. Year 12, you have completely blown me away. It’s an honor to serve all of you today. Everyone, dear staffs, and students, I would like to introduce you to Intellect’s Center 2017 CAMP!” The crowd hooted in response while Jihoon just wished that in the future, they would change the event name because...what does Intellect’s Center even mean? Does that make sense? Important things to know.

She cited the regulations, “The rules aren’t the same as last year or any other year. Although there are still stations for every challenge, there is a twist, you must go find them. They are all over the place, whoever comes first, will be given the opportunity to finish first. Then, once you’re done, the faculty members will give you your next station number. The numbers given are all randomly shuffled so don’t think it will be that easy. If you finished the whole 15 stations in an hour time-frame, hurry back with all the papers as an evidence. We’ll judge you based on performance, not just the speed. So, get your hype up and let those brains work! Losers are losers, winners are winners! Remember, we live in a harsh world, good luck!” A random confetti popped out of nowhere just to make the crowd go crazier than before. And it was successful because they’re still children inside.

After, they all lined up in a queue to get the folded envelopes that contain their station numbers. A challenge is alright but the race is what Jihoon’s worried about. He could never work well under pressure because that would heavily stress him out. Seungcheol snatched away an envelope away from the teacher and ran to Jihoon. They both opened it widely, revealing their first number: Station 4. They searched around with their eyes, planning where to go before the signal starts.

Seungcheol scowled, “I’m sort of nervous, this is the first time I attended this stupid camp.”

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