Coming from a broken family starring a mother who didn't want him, a father who sent fifty dollars twice a year to him from his new family in Washington, and an unloving stepdad, Jongin didn't know the first thing about love.

When Jongdae uttered the three words of care to Jongin, he fought the urge to sob. Instead he kept his eyes narrowed at the seemingly never ending road ahead. His grip on the steering wheel stiffened and turned pale with strain. 

"What do you want to know?" Jongin choked out. Jongdae rested a warm palm on his shoulder, easing the tension. 

"How about we go back and forth with things about our ed up families?" Jongdae tried to sound cheerful and Jongin his chapped lips. 

"You're basically an open book Jongdae," Jongin laughed with no emotion. 

"There are things that I don't reveal to just quite everyone, no matter how deliberately open I try to appear," Jongdae replied calmly. 

"I guess I could attempt this proposal," Jongdae brought his palm away when Jongin answered. 

There was a muted stiffness that occupied the air of the car. Their breaths were reserved and they looked in opposite directions until Jongdae broke the silence.

"My mother left when I was a baby. She didn't want the responsibility of a child," he whispered to Jongin. His head turned quickly to see Jongdae with his head in his hands. He was gazing at the mellow trees that seemed to wave goodbye as their thick but swift branches swayed in the brisk wind. Cornering into the edge of his seat, he rubbed his arms even over his sweatshirt.

"I'm sorry," Jongin tried to reply sympathetically. He didn't want Jongdae upset at him.

"It's okay, your turn," Jongdae gave a small smile. The corners of his pretty pink lips made Jongin's heart melt, as he began to open up.

"My mom and dad are divorced?" his answer sounded more like a question.

He grimaced at the thought. Jongin wanted to reach out and Jongdae's arm affectionately, but held back. "And if you're wondering why I'm happy all the time, it's because you really don't know what life's going to throw at you tomorrow. If I die, I would want to be remembered as a pleasant person to be around." Jongdae chuckled. 

"Aren't you deep? Shouldn't you be majoring in Psychology? Your presense is quite soothing, " Jongin laughed while Jongdae smirked back.

"It's never too late to change majors I suppose." Jongdae waved his hand, ushering Jongin to continue their little game. 

"Divorced because Mom commited adultery," he said seldomly. Jongdae glanced at him with astonishment. 

"I've heard of these type of things, but I never met someone who had parents-" he ceased his sentence as his brow furrowed. "It must have been hard."

It was hard. A matter a fact, it was ing difficult. Growing up as a boy, Jongin adored his two parents. He idolized them and desired a marriage like theirs in the future. They had adored each other so much that every four years, they would have a celebration, a re-marriage as you would call. Jongin watched the love on their faces as they embraced each other and gave passionate kisses when they strolled down the aisle. His mother always appeared elegant in her flashy dresses and the crowd would applause. He knew that her mother's friends envied their marriage. His mother was a well-known professor with two PhDs and his father was a wealthy heir to his grandfather's microchip company. They were a power couple nonetheless, and the center of each other's worlds. 

Things started to change, more as altering their perfection in the beginning, but it seemed to progress to their "modifications". Their Wednesday and Friday date nights occured less frequently as to he didn't see his babysitter as often. It began with a few snaps and name calling, but soon after, their quarrels of what was dinner transformed into disbutes on in laws and income. They never saw eye to eye on things and they never bothered to repair the cracks forming in the marriage. Each "" and "bastard" was another slash onto their superficially flawless picture. Jongin stayed in the corner of his room as he heard the arguments heating in the kitchen. A wine glass would be thrown to the ground and a harsh slap on raw skin would pierce the already strained air. He was scared and quite frankly alone. 

On D-Day, as dad used to joke harshly about years after, Jongin was extremely excited that afternoon. He had gotten an A+ on his math test, the only one is his class. Oblivious to his father annoyed fatigue, he blurted it out.

"Dad, guess what? I got an A plus today, the only one in my class," he had exclaimed loudly. Jongin at the age of nine was only a spirit of smiles and jumbo crayons. He knew his parents were going through some rough waves, but he had faith that if he did well in school, his parents would be proud and happy, and stay together. But in the eyes of a nine year old, his tunnel vision only saw a part of the harsh reality that his dad was facing. 

"Yeah yeah good for you, shut the up, I'm driving," his father had snapped back cruely. Taken aback by his father's words, he cowered fearful and slid down the seat slowly so he didn't have to look at his father's narrowing eyes. 

As their car drove up onto the driveway of their three storied Victorian styled home estate, Jongin leaped out of the car as fast as he could and raced into the house searching for the comfort of his mother. He went to find the kitchen table empty, as she would usually be sipping out of a wine glass and give Jongin a grim smile. She used to wait patiently on the living room couch and assist Jongin with his homework and after, create legends of great heroes as they ran around the house. Jongin exuded brightness those days, but he was positive there would be a time when his mother would wait again. Jongin looked around to the laundry room, but he probably wouldn't find her there. Their maid, Madisyn did the laundry and made dinner. Then he heard a defeaning moan exude from a closed door, his parents' bedroom, even though his dad slept on the couch these days. 

He treaded softly to approach the door, but he was harshly shoved by his father who stomped towards the door with fury in his eyes. He wiggled the lock furiously to find it locked. Panicked whispers and the sound of a belt clicking was the response from behind the door to his father's rage. Taking a gaping breath, his father used his foot to kick down the door. Splinters and glass of the expensive French doors flew everywhere to expose his mother and someone much younger and who was definitely not his father in bed scrambling to put on clothes. Confused by the madness that just happened, Jongin tried to advance towards but his father's bellow made him freeze. 

"Stay back Jongin, we don't need to be any closer to the than we have to," his father hissed between clenched teeth. 

His mother sobbed into her hands as she ran over to his father. 

"Please Aaron, it doesn't have to be this way," she begged as she kneeled with her head down in shame. His father looked ahead with no emotion. Jongin had never been more terrified in his life. 

"What is he? Eighteen, for God sake's he be one of your students," his father laughed sickly. Jongin saw his mother's face turn a violent shade of crimson.

"Seventeen," she whispered barely. His father's eyes widened as he looked down disgusted.

"Repeat that, would you?" he scoffed at my mother. 

"SEVENTEEN," she yelled. Her eyes glared at my father with hurt and sorrow. "You think I wanted to do this? You're never home, always out. Probably with some as well." she snapped back as my father threw his head back with a demented guwaff. 

"I'm taking this to court. You're never going to teach again you sick e, I swear on my grave," he warned my mother but she responded with a slap on his face. The echo that slipped off his father's cheek bombarded into the walls and caused a bruise forever on Jongin's heart. The boy on his parents' bed looked frightened.

"Don't you dare. You have no idea what it's like keeping up this ing charade of a happy wife. I've spent so many nights alone because of your late nights at work. I am sick and tired of putting up with your bull. I deserve someone who respects me and actually loves me." his mother cried and instead of a slap back, his father replied with a wink.

"Well I'm sure the attorney you get will select a fine prison cellmate for you, someone who will respect you and love you." he mocked and signaled as he stuck his tongue inbetween two of his fingers as his mother was awestruck. He clicked his tongue and basically skipped his way out the front door, and out of Jongin's life, forever.