Kim Jongin comes from a big, huge family of Kims with old money. He’s the youngest out of the two sons the Kim Empire has, and had become the successor to the Kim Enterprises when he turned eighteen by default.

He is already smart to begin with, so naturally, like the every other Kim family member there is, he has a promising future.

But he didn’t want any of it. Seoyul used joke about how cliché Jongin is, a typical rich boy being a rebel without a cause.

Maybe it was because that he felt the role that was handed to him came with a price he didn’t want to pay—the death of his one and only brother Kim Jongdae who he had adored so, so much. Maybe not.

Because the thing is, it wasn’t like his brother’s death came as a surprise. Jongdae had been sick ever since the day he was born, diagnosed with a heart disease that no amount of money in the world can pay to fix, and everyone including Jongin knew that.

But it didn’t make it any less harder than it was.

The funeral was grand, and Jongdae’s grave was built even more grand. But as grand and beautiful as it was, it didn’t provide the closure Jongin needed—and it was only a week after Jongdae’s burial when Jongin was whisked away with the task of taking care of their family’s company. Eighteen-year-old Jongin didn’t have the time to grief.

And soon, eighteen turns into nineteen, then twenty, and then it becomes a couple of years too late for Jongin to properly grief. So he lived his life not asking for much. All Jongin wanted was his family, healthy and complete by his side, along with someone he loves to spend the rest of his life with. And after a while, life finally worked out for Jongin.

Fortunately, after a few years, Jongin had finally somewhat learned to come to terms with his brother’s death. Both of his parents had retired, and he found himself a girl that he loved with all of his heart. He’d met this wonderful girl at a coffee shop he frequented—as cliché as that sounds—and it was instantly love. She’d been the perfect addition to complete Jongin’s life. He was ready to give her his everything.

It didn’t last long, though, because one rainy day she’d disappeared into thin air, leaving Jongin with no explanation, no closure.

Jongin could have looked for her, but he didn’t even have the time because suddenly he has a daughter left on the doorstep of his family’s house to take care of. Suddenly, in front of his newborn daughter’s bright, hopeful eyes, Jongin’s life problems felt like nothing. It didn’t matter if he was alone, broken, and scared—

She was now his sun, and his life will be devoted for her.

***

“It’s a long line,” Seoyul says softly, breaking the silence that had ensued ever since they left the house.

In courtesy of Haebit’s request, they’d both taken a night off out of their daily routines to go out and “do something fun!” which ended up being a fancy dinner date in a five-star-restaurant Jongin’s close sunbae had just opened.

It is a Friday night and the restaurant is packed to the brim—there’s a long line of people waiting to get inside the restaurant, all dressed from head to toe in their most expensive clothing. Seoyul feels a little underdressed in her blouse and jeans, and it’s putting a damper to her already somber mood. It’s cold, too, and Seoyul is starving.

“Well, I can just cut the line by calling Kyungsoo hyung for a pass, but I know you hate abusing the power we have, so.” Jongin shrugs before proceeding to play with his phone like he always does. Seoyul sighs, placing her hands into her pockets in defeat. She then starts to count the amount of people queueing before them to make an estimate of how much longer they have to wait before they can finally eat.

“I’m starving, Jongin,” Seoyul whines after realizing that they probably have to wait for another couple of hours before they can finally eat, “can’t we just eat somewhere else?”

“I can’t believe you—you’re such a child,” Jongin grumbles in reply, “you’re the one who picked this restaurant in the first place—we’re already queueing halfway and you decide it’s too long?”

“Well you promised Kyungsoo oppa we’d drop by sometime and I’m just the one actualizing your long list of promises towards people that you can’t remember—but keep making! Also, calling me a child is a pretty low blow when you’re the one that’s been playing some stupid video game on your phone for the past thirty minutes,” Seoyul mutters angrily, turning around and folding her hands under her chest.

“Okay, okay, let’s go eat somewhere else. You don’t have to be so pissed,” Jongin chuckles, ruffling Seoyul’s hair gently, which earns him another glare before Seoyul finally gives up.

“I want some pizza.”

They end up on the park with takeout pizza and soju, sitting side by side facing the famous river the authorities don’t care enough to name, as the sky turns darker and darker each minute they stare at the sky. Long ago, the people in the country used to call it Han River of some sort, if Seoyul’s poor memory of her high school History class suffices.

“Haebit would kill to be here,” Seoyul jokes, gesturing to their impromptu “picnic”, and Jongin smiles at this.

“I know.” Jongin replies, a soft smile on his face at the mention of his daughter. The night sky is clear, and the park is buzzing with the warmth and comfort of a dozen people walking around aimlessly, the laughter of kids playing by the river a good background soundtrack to fill in the quiet moments that settles between Jongin and Seoyul from time to time.

“I can’t believe that the two of us, a married couple living in this totalitarian world, is out here on a date on a Friday night because the husband’s daughter is forcing them to. If I heard that ten years ago, I would have thought that it’s a makjang* plot for fiction books,” Seoyul starts, happily opening the box of pizza sitting in between them.

“Don’t say that,” Jongin frowns, taking a slice from the box reluctantly. “Haebit is your daughter as much as she is mine. And, there’s nothing wrong with fictional books.”

Something inside of Seoyul stirs, and she forces the words of protest down with the bites of pizza she takes. The mood is great and she reminds herself that there are children laughing everywhere, and maybe tonight can finally be the time they talk and put an end to the never-ending fight both Jongin and her seems to be stuck in.

“Well that explains her genius musical talents, she obviously got it from me—right?” Seoyul skirts around the subject, and thankfully Jongin buys it. First, he smiles. Then it grows into a full-blown laughter, and it makes Seoyul laugh, too, because when was the last time both of them laughed together like this?

It’s been years. Years too long.

“If you call playing stuttered do re mi on the piano a musical talent, then you’re right,” he chuckles.

Most of the time, Seoyul hates that Jongin’s laughter is contagious. He has a habit of laughing at the most inappropriate times, and it’s a disadvantage to Seoyul when he makes her want to laugh too during meetings or important dinners with important people. But at nights like this when the stars are twinkling bright and Seoyul can’t find for the life of her a reason to smile, Jongin’s contagious smile comes in handy.

“How dare you talk about your daughter’s piano skills like that, she’s supposed to be your sun, Jongin. You named her your sunlight—literally,”

“I’m joking,” he raises both of his hands up in surrender for effect, “also, why are you looking at me like I gave her a weird name? It’s not my fault that looking at her makes me want to give up everything. I’m just a lonely planet orbiting her life, the name suits her. Hae…bit. Haebi