Chapter 2

‘Think fast!’ She followed after she threw the ball right at me. I don’t even know if I should feel relieved or pissed off, maybe I’ll go for both. My hands abruptly caught the ball, I never thought being the captain of the basketball team would ever become handy to me but it apparently did now.

‘Nice catch Jeeo boy.’ She chirped getting closer as she overly-enthusiastically held out her right hand expecting me to give her the ball back. As if I’ll ever give it back.

‘I’m Kim Myungsoo,’ I huffed as I regained my breath it took me to sprint over here and gave her my left hand instead, my right clinging onto the ball which could’ve gotten the town in chaos.

‘Vandalism? This is a disaster!’ I can already hear the distaste and murmurs that would’ve spread through, and I can see why – here is a place closest to perfection (Well, actually, my dad’s vision of perfection which apparently corresponds to the rest of the people’s visions too.) The messages embedded in our TV, the radio, the music that silently plays throughout this town always makes sure it’s that way. The people don’t know that but I do.

The messages are the reason as to why the people act the way they are, why this town is graffiti, criminal, violence, you-name-it . This is give-us-the-most-difficult-child-and-in-3-days-we-can-turn-them-into-your-ideal-child kind of town. I’ve seen thousands of kids change to fit the ideal. I’ve seen this town wipe out obesity and laziness. It is exactly that kind of town.

When dad became the Chief in this place situated right in the middle of Yongin and Anseong, this was practically the land of unknown. It was mostly governed by the woods and there were only 4 houses including ours, three of them, still being built for new families waiting to move in. Back then, it was just Jeeo, population: 3. Mum, Dad, and myself.

Fast-forward to 2014 and there’s more than 760 houses, all occupied, and a waiting list for people waiting for more houses to be built around the edges, as far as the music stretches, so that they too, can live a Jeeo lifestyle. Up to now, I’ve witnessed at least 2,000 families move in – and some of their kids, my clients, out.

‘I know who you are,’ she snatched her hand off of mine and put it in her jeans’ pocket, ‘Kim Myungsoo, the model boy of Jeeo, smart, tidy, handsome. Basketball captain. Valedictorian. Class president.’ She recited.

What she said was mostly right; I am those things, and more. I’ve fitted my dad’s vision of a perfect child ever since we moved here. He’s moulded me into someone he can brag about, and the town does so, but model boy of Jeeo? Outside maybe, but inside I’m still me. Dad has no clue his perfect child know almost everything about the messages.

Wait, she thinks I’m handsome.

‘Want an autograph?’ I gave her my killer half-smile but her eyes didn’t even falter.

‘Eurgh no,’ she said a disgusted tone, ‘Look, just give me my ball back- I mean, Please may I have my ball back?’ That’s a message. ‘Always ask nicely for things you want.’ she followed under her breath. I wonder how long she’s been here, and I want to estimate how long’s left until she’s gone, too. ‘You must be new.’ I started as if I had no clue. Of course she's new. She's probably moved in yesterday.

‘I moved in last Saturday but it feels like forever,’ she looked at my warily, ‘and for the millionth time this week, no, I don’t want to join any stupid debate club. Is there an art club?’

Six days, yet she still talks and acts like an outsider. It’s amazing how she’s still mostly not Jeeo. But not that she’ll make it past two weeks anyway. Nobody does.

Not unless I get them out. ‘You rich?’