(BACKSTORY)

(52) ZITAO I

The first time Zitao met his new stepfather, he didn’t think much of him. There was the fact that his mother had been obsessing over him for months before she told Zitao that she was getting married, but other than that sole irritation, Zitao didn’t feel much at all.

At the time, he was known as Zitao and all the real education he could get was from donated books at the old bookstore down the road. His house was extremely small, there was food but not enough of it, and he found that he had no problem sleeping on blankets on the floor when he got too big to share a bed with his mother.

Miss Huang cared a lot for her son. She would always put more food on his plate than hers, let him shower first to get more of the warm water, and even clothe him with the warmer clothes they could afford during the winter. That is, until a little bit after he turned nine years old and she met the man of her dreams.

Zitao doesn’t know how she met him, but ever since then, she’d been out of the house more often than not. On some days, she wouldn’t even come home, and Zitao had nothing else to do other than scavenge the fridge for expired leftovers, and study his battered school books on his own. The only upside was that he got the chance to sleep in the bed every once in a while; it certainly beat the cold, hard floor.

There were times when Zitao would feel homesick to the point where he thought about running away. All he could really do was stay at home, looking out the window for some kind of comfort since he wasn’t allowed to venture outdoors. He would see the faces of happy kids around his age walking to and from school from the window; their carefree joy was something he envied a lot.

But alas, it was difficult for him to even speak the language of the new country he was living in. He and his mother moved to Korea when she’d gotten engaged to Zitao’s stepfather. From there, everything went downhill.

He loves his mother. He really does.

Upon arriving in Korea after feeling terribly out of place in his new stepfather’s private jet, he could feel the difference in his mother. Hungry for attention, for money, for some sort of status for the first time in her life, she had emotionally abandoned her only son. Zitao couldn’t really blame her- he knew she deserved a better life, something different from all that she’d ever known, but he also could feel the pit of sadness in his stomach grow bigger by the minute.

His stepfather, Han Jungmin’s condo rests atop possibly the highest building Zitao has ever seen. After the cab drops them off at the front entrance, Zitao wobbles after his mother, gripping the back of her dress tightly as she clings onto her new husband. Zitao squints at the bright lights as they enter the lobby, a quick shiver rumbling through his body in the breeze from the central aircon unit. It smells freshly cleaned, the marbled floor glistening under the lights in a blinding way that makes him wish he had sunglasses for protection.

“How many floors up do we have to go?” he asks his mother, suddenly very self-conscious of the way he’s dressed. He may as well be wearing rags. His mother’s floral sundress looks new, designer bag hanging off her shoulder- he thinks she looks like some sort of famous actress on vacation. Jungmin, dressed in a casual grey suit, looks every bit as rich as he is.

His mother doesn’t answer him, instead sighing into the shoulder of her husband. Zitao frowns, reluctantly letting go of her dress and opting to simply follow a step behind.

Once in the elevator, Jungmin presses the 60th floor, answering Zitao’s question. The doors close shut, gravity slowly weighing down on Zitao’s shoulders as they rose higher and higher up. His anxiety didn’t lessen, though. Once they’d arrived in Jungmin’s lavish apartment, Zitao felt as if his raggedy clothing would dirty the room just by being within proximity of everything.

“Isn’t Jungmin’s house nice Zitao?” His mother croons, nuzzling her cheek into the man’s shoulder.

Zitao feels his heart lighten a bit. The sight of his mother without a stress in the world, alongside the man that made it happen made him happy that she was happy. “Yeah, it’s really pretty…” He says absentmindedly, overstimulated by the mere size of the hallway into the dining area.

“We’re really happy to have you here, son.” Jungmin smiles warmly, his Chinese a bit awkward, but nevertheless translating into words that made Zitao’s heart swoon. “Let’s show you to your room.”

Zitao’s eyes widen momentarily at the thought of getting his own room. His own bed. All he’s known is sleeping on the concrete flooring of their shabby apartment back in China, the only warmth deriving from a thin blanket that had barely covered his ankles. His mouth takes on a weird wobbly shape, unsure of whether or not to grin happily or cry from joy.

Opening the door to a room on the far side of the living area, Jungmin steps aside and urges the boy in. Zitao stares in wonder- it’s bigger than any bedroom he’s had the opportunity to step into before. There’s a decently sized bed in the corner of the room, adorned with grey bed sheets and a nightstand to it’s right. The window on the far end of the room looks out to the front of the building. Through it, he can see the glowing city skylines. He’s never seen anything like it before.

“I’ll let you have some personal time for a moment,” Jungmin smirks. Zitao’s mother seems absolutely ecstatic about the glowy decor elsewhere. “I’ll come knocking when we’ve finished getting settled for the day.” At that, he closes the door and leaves Zitao to compose himself.

With nothing really to unpack, Zitao decides to examine his room a little more. In another corner of the room sits a dresser, and upon closer inspection Zitao finds some extra bedding and not much else. He hums to himself before seeing something in the corner of his eye- there’s a stuffed panda bear on the corner of the bed that has been tipped over. With a wide grin, he skips towards it and takes it into his hands.

“My first toy,” he mumbles to himself. He takes a moment before hugging it closely, glancing at his reflection in the mirror atop his dresser.

Suddenly, as if his appearance had taken all the joy out of him, he feels extremely out of place. He sighs, setting the bear down and falling back onto his bed.

He knows that living here will definitely take some time to get used to. It won’t be easy. Anxiety settles in the pit of his stomach. He wonders if, in the event that his mother and new father send him to school, he will get along with other children. He supposes he could ask for new clothes and a haircut, but quickly gets rid of the thought- just a home and some food to eat is fine enough.

Roughly half an hour later, a knock at the door has Zitao sitting straight up and smoothing out his clothes. Jungmin peeks his head in with a smile.

“How do you like it?” he asks, fully opening the door. “Your mother is currently getting ready to take a bath, so I thought it wise to check up on you.”

“It’s great!” Zitao exclaims with a wide smile. “Um… Thank you for letting us stay here...sir.”

Jungmin laughs, the sound deep in his throat. “I’m your father now, aren’t I? You should refer to me as such.

A weird feeling settles in Zitao’s chest, and he’s unsure whether or not it’s a pleasant one. “...Father,” he finally manages. Jungmin nods.

“Much better.” He enters the room, sitting next to Zitao on his bed. “Your mother and I got you some new clothes as well. Would you want to try them on?”

Zitao gapes- he wasn’t sure how much better this could get. “Of course! Yes!” he says, unsure if he seemed a little too excited. If he did, his new father showed no signs of annoyance.

Jungmin leans forward and reaches down underneath them, pulling out a box from underneath the bed. “This is it,” he says, pushing it towards Zitao with his foot. “Go ahead, try them on.”

At first, he’s unsure of what to do. Does he change there, or in the bathroom? On one hand, he’s hesitant to change in front of Jungmin, who he’d only recently become close to. On the other, he doesn’t actually know where the bathroom is. Ultimately, assuming that asking where the bathroom was would throw off whatever trust they had in each other, Zitao takes his frayed shirt off to try on the new ones.

In the end, they’re all either a bit too snug or large. The only thing that really fits him well is a pair of black cargo pants, but even then, he figures a little more meat on his bones would help him in the long run.

Before dinner that night, Jungmin looks to Zitao with a smile on his face. “If you’re going to be living here, you’re going to have to learn some Korean, won’t you?”

--

Everything seemed too good to be true. His stepfather enrolled him into Korean lessons to help him adjust to living in a new country. Zitao’s quick thinking made it easy to pick up introductory phrases and words essential to the Korean language, which brought him a lot of praise from not only his mother, but his stepfather as well. It was only after he started flubbing on the harder words did he finally see a different side of his stepfather.

Disappointment.

Zitao didn’t give up hope though, always studying in his free time whenever he wasn’t eating or sleeping. When he’d managed to formulate his own sentences without the need of writing them down first, he would brazenly speak in Korean to his stepfather and to the maids. His stepfather was pleased, while the maids would only nod before continuing their tasks. Zitao didn’t really like them that much since they rarely held a conversation with him whenever his stepfather or mother was there.

“How could you mistake Mescaline and Methamphetamine? Those are two very different things and not knowing the difference could get me- ...could get you killed, son.” Jungmin warned Zitao, his tall figure looming over Zitao’s own smaller one.

Zitao shifts from one foot to the other, not letting his gaze meet his stepfather’s. “I… I don’t know why I need to learn these words… So I didn’t study them that much.”

A sigh was heard from Jungmin and Zitao felt his shoulders deflate. Zitao didn’t want this setback to be the thing halting him from receiving praise. It all felt overbearing after a while though. Once Zitao’s Korean started to improve, his stepfather