Taecyeon

My phone vibrates in my pocket but I continue with act. We are filming the first episode of Family Outing 2, in front of me stands Yoona who supposedly I'm related to in what they call 'Love line'. The producer yells "Cut!" and I fish for my cell phone.

Home

My heart thumps as a smile spreads its way on my face. I know I look goofy as I stare at the cellular phone. Reminding myself that I have to pick up, I glue the receiver to my ear, "Hey!" I say excitedly.

The other end is silent and I wait, sometimes the transmission gets a bit frail, so I listen intently. There is a sound of breathing I distinguish, however it is heavy and grunted and soon I realize it's Yumi. My head instinctively hangs in the air as my eyebrows link, "Yumi? You okay?" I can hear the concern folding my voice; she's usually jocund and enthused whenever she calls.

"Taec," she sniffs. Her voice is soft yet guttural like she hasn't slept in days or cried for so many hours. As she whispers, I hear the slight sobs that escape her, "Taec," she repeats.

My breathing is caught in my throat, I search for a place to sit and find myself driving to a vacant chair. My fist clenching, I tighten my grip over the device, "What's going on?" I ask her slowly and precisely.

Yet what follows is unmistakably a bewail and my teeth grit, "I'm sorry," she says, snuffing at the air again and it seems like she's talking to someone else, yet  she directs her voice at me again, "Momma…,"

"Yumi, please … please tell me what's going on?" I can feel anxiety erupting in my voice, tension shakes my body and I tremble. I hate how she's taking too long to say what's going on and I swallow loudly, "What's wrong with mom?"

Suddenly, there's a shift in voices and the person who talks next is an elder with a naturally high-pitched shallow voice, "It's nice talking to you again, Taecyeon," and it's a bit calm which drifts through me easily and I release my fingers that were clotting. "It's Meredith Carcax, I'm not sure if you remember me, though," she chuckles gently.

The picture of Mrs. Carcax fills my mind, I do remember her. A very short, thin lady with ash colored hair and pale cerulean pair of eyes. She used to sit in her lawn, eating cookies and milk, tempting us children to steal them away. "Hi, Mrs. Carcax. It's great talking to you too. What's going on?" I ask, not wanting to waste another minute.

She sighs and from that, I am in complete recognition that something bad has happened. "It's not serious," she contradicts my recent belief. "Your mother is just wondering," she says carefully, as if choosing every word meticulously, "If you can come anytime soon," she waits but I don't reply, perceiving that there's more to it than just that. And I'm right, she continues, "Your mother is sick,"

I swallow, my mouth is completely dry, "She's sick?" I reiterate.

"Pneumonia,"

I'm not sure what that illness is, so I pull Heechul's blouse as he passes me by and whisper urgently, "What's Pneumonia?"

Heechul's face crunches up in ignorance, then he puts his hands in the air and pouts indicating his nescience. I push him away as I press the receiver to my ears again after squashing it on my thigh to muffle the sound.

"What's .. Pneumonia?"

"It's an infection, in the lungs,"

 Without thinking, I utter, "I'll take the first flight,"  

…

I manage to convince our manager to let me slip for a few days out of sight for a family emergency. He told me I have five days and that is the limit he can delay our projects, especially now that they're flooding on us. The problem is how to induce my brothers.

I tiptoe my way to my room at nine pm only to be caught by Chansung who was munching a cupcake in the living room, watching TV.

"Hey, Hyung," he says between bites.

I nod at him and ask, "Where's everyone?"

"Khun-hyung is at We got married. Wooyoung-hyung and Junho are asleep, Junsu-hyung is shopping," he numerates.

I bob my head again then enter my room which I share with Junsu. I sit on my bed, my fingers at my temples and my elbows digging my thighs. I know I have to go home –I want to go home, it's just, I'm not sure how to tell the guys I'm leaving for five days all of a sudden.

I growl at the void in front of me, exhaling air along the way and run my fingers through my hair, then I snort as I sigh, not knowing what to do.

"You know, you could always share," Nichkhun's voice slaps me in the face and I widen my eyes, "When did you get here?" I ask him, my voice a monotony.  

"I'm pretty sure it was before the billion dollar snort," his eyes squints as he points with his finger. "So, what's up?" he drops his hand and nears me.

I shake my head, not knowing from where to start, so I just blurt, "I need to go home,"

I hear my voice break out in a tone of complete and utter helplessness, it alone was sufficient to describe how much I need to leave. Nichkhun's hand is patting my back, "Is something wrong?"

I look at him, his thick eyebrows are knitted together, his eyes radiating concern and I smile meekly at him, "Mom's sick,"

Nichkhun doesn't say anything but he leaves my side, delving my closet for two handbags and starts grabbing clothes, awkwardly folding them and throwing them into the bag, he says as he folds a shirt, "Go online and book yourself a ticket,"

I stare at him first, sentient of what a good friend he is and I shake my head, "Already got tickets, I was at Jooseob's,"

Khun nods as if in approval, "I'll tell the guys, you finish packing. When's your flight?"

I bite my lip, fighting tears. I don't want to look weak, I'm the beast after all, "One am, tomorrow,"      

…

Upon reaching Boston Logan International Airport, alongside two bodyguards, I slip between people undetected as yet another Asian dude. My luggage consist of two handbags and a third small trolley, with a boonie hat on my head and huge sunglasses, I push through people to get a taxi.

My bodyguards, Nanba and Kanda are two Japanese twins who mastered the art of Karate. They're not much of bodyguards than friends and prior to our meeting, fans. They both wear casual clothes and when we stopped a taxi driver, I ask him to take us to my house. He turns his head to glance at me, then his gaze lingers, "Are you a crazed fan who came to vandalize that Korean boy's family?"

I laugh, he knows where I live, "Ah, no,"

He nodes and starts the car. We are driven to our destination in stark quietness. Then, my house's outline appears and I can't help but feel nostalgia flooding in my heart. I breathe slowly as I roll down the window and smell a faintly recognizable scent. Max parks and I see my mother's old car in the garage, the lights are off in the second storey but are on in the first.

I trudge out of the cab, half uncertain of how I'm going to meet my family and half ravished that I'm going to see them. Kanda pays the fee and the three of us get out of the car. Jetlag is starting to consume the boys' powers, they were banging their heads together; their biological clock in total disorder. It effects me as well, but I'm used to its symptoms, so I slap Nanba's back, "You can sleep in the house, it's all yours,"

Even though I pumped them up, I'm cowering and I feel this urge of hiding or running away from the red door that stands closed a few feet away from me. My breathing stutters yet I march upwards and up the two flights of stairs and seize the doorknob but I stop. Should I knock? Will there be anyone inside? I contemplate. Choosing to walk in, I let the two follow my lead and a little surprised that the door isn't locked.

As I shift my eyes from left to right, the old design isn't changed, everything looks exactly the same and my teeth yank my lips apart and I grin, picturing mother as she dusted tapestries and curtains. My hand subconsciously caress the leather sofas, the TV set and the picture that had me and mother when I was seven years old.

"Who's there?" Kanda's thick accent penetrates my reverie and I look alarmed as I search the place for someone.

A tall broad-shouldered man appears. Brown hair lavishly designing his head that was ornamented with brown eyes and stealthily slender glasses. He's holding a white box in his hand and a warm smile is canopying his face, "If it isn't little Taec," he says.

I scrutinize him and shake my head involuntarily as I run through memories in my head but I can't discern his face, "Ah, yeah," I say reluctantly.

He chuckles as he understands that I don't recall him, "It's John Carcax. Meredith Carcax's son?"

My eyes bulge, I can't believe he's changed so much, I walk up to him and offer my hand to shake. He slowly sets the box down and shakes my hand, "It's good seeing you, John,"

He nodes then waves to my companions who raise their hands in recognition and nod. Then he opens the box, "Yumi told mom to call me to bring you a chocolate cake as a welcome home present and of course drive to the hospital,"

The last sentence's weight was forceful as the smile on my face wanes, "Yeah, we should hurry,"

Nanba and Kanda are reclining on the sofas, their heads bent over and their eyes firmly shut and I think they're in dreamland as John and I pass them and out of the door.

…

At last we arrive at the hospital. John is a talker, I forgot about that, which results in me having snarling headache. He drops me off and screeches away, hurriedly telling me he's late for an appointment, I wave goodbye and enter the hospital. After asking around about my mother's room, I have a few people recognize me and ask me for my autograph, I don't mind and quickly sign for them, apologizing and explaining that I am in a hurry.

I am told that my mother's room is in the fourth floor, room number 407. My heart thuds in my chest, threatening to burst out from my mouth. The feeling of each beat accelerating as I come closer to the room is like a rush of a powerful sedatives in your veins, turning everything hazy and blurry except the door in front of me. My mind focuses only on the silver doorknob, no sounds filling my ears, everything is dark and I extend my hand and place it lightly on the door.  

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Broke the record ^ w ^ (1,891)