Chapter I

“Umma, appa, let’s play!” Jongin said cheerfully as he approached his parents. He just turned seven three months ago, and he deemed that maybe he was important enough now. Important enough for his parents’ time. After all, he heard that seven was something like a lucky number. But just in case, he waited three more months to be sure.

“I’m now seven years and three months old! Can we play together now? Like in the park and stuff? Like what the other kids do with their ummas and appas? We’re going to have so much fun!”Jongin squealed in excitement as he jumped up and down.

The couple just laughed at his hopeful face while they sipped on expensive wine, and smoked their cigarettes.

“Jongin, just go back to your room and play with your toys. Don’t bother us.”

“And also, we won’t play with you. That’s what you have toys for.”

Jongin’s hope faltered. But he didn’t give up.

“But… I really want to play with you guys… and you’re always out of the house… You never come to see me. And I miss you guys.”

“Jongin, really, we bought you a whole shelf of plushies, action figures and coloring books for your seventh birthday. I’m sure you had all the company you could ever need. What more do you want?”said his mother in a sharp tone.

Jongin gulped as he looked to the ground, fumbling with his hands.

“I just want to… just want to hold hands while walking in the park… like, like what families do. Want to watch tv together… Or I know! How about let’s color my coloring books! The pictures are really pretty and you can use all of my new crayons I haven’t used yet!”Jongin said with utmost optimism; thinking that the last suggestion would be enough to attract his parents into spending some time with him.

But things just weren’t in his favor.

“Jongin, you’re being selfish. Why are you so bad?” His father said sternly. “We work to give you all your stuff, but you still ask for more.”

“N-no, I just... just want…lov-”

“Can’t you see that your umma and I are having our alone time? Now stop talking and leave already, before I call one of the maids to bring you out.

And because you’ve been so bad, don’t eat dinner with us later. You are to eat only when one of the maids get you from your room. Is that understood, you spoiled child?”

“Y-yes appa… I understand. I’m sorry.”

“Very well. Now leave.”

“Okay.”

Jongin muttered another apology for disturbing his parents, and left the lavish room where the couple spent most of their time if they weren’t out on vacation trips.

As Jongin finally reached his room, he closed the door gently and ran towards his bed where he sobbed into his pillow. He knew he should’ve seen it coming, but he was trying to be hopeful. Even though this is the nth time his offers of hanging-out, of having some bonding time, was rejected.

It was true. It was true that for Jongin’s seventh birthday, he received a whole shelf of toys and coloring books. His parents always bought him tons of things for his birthdays or special occasions. Things that other kids would envy, things that other kids would save a whole year’s allowance just to buy. Of course it came naturally for him; his family was rich. But every year these toys became more and more meaningless. Just trash piling up in his room that was too big for him alone.

He would trade all these things to hear his parents say “I love you.”

Never once did he know what it felt like to be loved. To have a parent look on him with admiration or care. Or to have someone to hug and kiss. Even from the day of his birth, Jongin’s body had never felt the loving warmth of a mother’s touch. As soon as he came out, he was given to the nurse maids and they pretty much did all the work. Even until now, his parents only acknowledged him as their son, but they never made him feel like it. They were always out on trips, and whenever they returned, they would send Jongin to his room because they didn’t want to be disturbed.

Jongin’s denied the truth tons of times already.

But he’s seven and three months old now, so he thought that maybe, this time he should just accept that he’s not wanted.

“Ugh. I hate that kid so much.”

“I know. He’s so whiny and he wants attention. Thank goodness we have maids. We never had to lay a finger on him ever since he was born.”

Jongin heard his parents say these words one late night he woke up to use the bathroom.

“I can’t believe we’re putting up with this kid just to have an heir to the company.”

“Don’t worry dear. Wait until he reaches high school. We’ll kick him out of here into his own house or something. Then we’ll be free of that annoying pest.”

Jongin covered his mouth as he gasped, tears b in his eyes. He stayed to listen a bit more, and he found out that his parents never really wanted a child in the first place. But because their company was so rich, his grandparents told them to have a child so their fortune could have an heir that was of their blood.He just existed to be an inheritor. Nothing more. He was not born out of love; nor was he born to be loved. He was born to be used. He was nothing but a vessel for their money when the time came. All those times he thought he was loved—he thought that even though his parents never had time, they gave him gifts to show their love—it was all false. They only showered him with gifts to shut him up. To keep him busy. So that Jongin would just be content with the material possessions and not act like a son. He was just the successor of their company. That was his only identity as Kim Jongin.

He always thought his parents were too busy to have time for him. Being rich, he thought that they must have been working really hard to earn all the money, so of course they also deserved to have vacations all the time. That’s why he decided he could wait until he was important enough. Until the day his parents could set aside their plans and say “We have time for you now. You’ve grown up well, our little boy.” To finally be more important than the Champaign and caviar; to finally be more important than the trips to London and Barcelona. To just finally be considered worth loving—worthy to be held tightly in warm arms, to have kisses placed on his face, to hear “I love you” for the very first time.

Isn’t that what any child would yearn for? Were not children made to be loved by parents?

But well…  his case seemed to be different.

He was born only for the sake of money.

As Jongin’s sobs finally died down, he heard a knock on the door.

“Young master, you may eat now.” One of the maids said in the usual nonchalant tone.

Honestly not even the maids cared for him. They were only watching over him for their salary, and they were pretty obvious about it by the way they pretended to be nice to him only when his parents were around. But when it was just them in the Kim mansion, those maids couldn’t really care less about Jongin, as they all spent their time in the maid lounge watching Korean dramas.

“A-alright… I’m going.”

Jongin went to their dining room where food was spread out, ranging from traditional Korean cuisine to European styled dishes. And yet, even with all this food filling up the table, Jongin felt empty as he sat on his chair and ate by himself. If only he had someone to share the food with, then maybe all these expensive dishes would have tasted delicious.

It only tasted like the salt from his tears, and the bitterness in his heart.

If not family, maybe sharing a meal with a friend would have been nice too. But unfortunately, that was yet another privilege he couldn’t have. Not because he didn’t want it, but because he found it so hard to approach others. Since he never felt love in his own house, never knew what it was to have a conversation with a happy ending, he became naturally introverted. He didn’t try to connect with other kids, because if his own family didn’t like him, how could others possible do so? Not only that, but his classmates were always giving him looks because of his dark skin. They treated him like he was different, and he heard once or twice that some kids thought he never talked with them because he was too rich for them. That wasn’t true. He really wanted to make friends. And although Jongin tried to convey his real feelings once, he was too shy and his words got garbled up, resulting in the kids just laughing at him and permanently classifying him as an outcast. He was too dark, too rich, and too weird. He simply did not fit in.

After eating Jongin went to his bedroom and decided he would watch a little tv first before going to sleep. It’s not like anyone cared whether he slept or not anyway. Flipping channels, he later landed on a cartoon show that caught his attention. There was a boy crying on the screen. Jongin frowned and wondered if the poor boy was sad about the same things he was.

“I’m lonely,”said the character. “You are my only friend, Mr. Hugs.”

 That was the first time Jongin learned about the term Imaginary friend. The boy on the screen was talking to a person that only he could see, and nobody else could. They labelled the kid as a crazy person, because he seemed to always be “talking to himself,” without them knowing that he was actually talking to his imaginary friend. It was still sad—to see the character talking to a figment of his imagination, and not someone real. But it seemed to help ease the pain of loneliness. It seemed to give the character a reason to smile once in a while. To have someone to say “I love you” to, and pretend to hear it being said back.

Jongin smiled and closed the television. He went over to his bed, kneeled down on the side and said his prayers. Then he got on top of the bed, under the covers, and began to imagine his ideal friend.

He would be someone understanding and kind. Someone who was always ready to listen, and who would play with him anytime he wanted. A person that could serve to take the emptiness away from his heart. Someone who could add a bit of variation to the greyness of his life; he didn’t need full vibrant colors at the moment, black and white would do. He wasn’t asking for much. Just for someone who could keep him company until the day he could learn to finally make real friends. Yeah… that kind of person would be great.

Aside from having a heart that loved him, Jongin then focused on imagining his friend's appearance. Of course he would be a boy, because boys understand boys better than girls, right? Then he should look cute. So Jongin imagined big pretty eyes, a button nose, heart-shaped lips and silky dark mushroom-styled hair. His friend also had a smaller frame than him, one that could easily be engulfed in hugs.

Satisfied with his friend’s appearance, the last thing he thought of was a nice name.

It took a while, but he finally settled on Kyungsoo. He’s only heard this name a couple of times, from where he couldn’t really remember, but he liked the sound of it, therefore Kyungsoo was born.

Kyungsoo was to be his black and white for the while.

Was to be the temporary variation on his dull, lonely life. Until one day someone real would approach him to bring Technicolor and he wouldn’t need a pretend friend anymore because he’d have a real one.

But for now, Kyungsoo would do.

***

Author's note:

The first chapter is up! Let me know what you guys think!