3. My Real Name is Hodong [Pairings: Hogyu]

Author: Words in italic are memories.

Howon stood lost in thoughts, he could feel the breeze brushing his face. The infinite business of the city was overwhelming, he could hear the distant sound of traffic and crowd.

“Noisy, “he whispered under his breath in disgust. He was sick of the dirty mortal world. Having the same routine day by day, living like zombies. To achieve perceived perfection, defined by how wealthy you are. That’s mere stupidity, he was sick of the twisted values. He wondered how the people, like ants, beneath his feet were actually able to  survive here. Maybe, maybe it was just him, who was being too idealistic.

He remembered, he remembered everything since he was young:

“Mother, I want to learn wrestling” The 6-year-old Howon begged while leaning excitedly on the radio which was playing announcing of that Kang Howon had won the 24th Wrestling Tournament Titans.

“Why?” his mother asked, smiling warmly.

“Because it looks manly.” The little boy’s eyes were glittering with exhilaration.

The wonderful feeling lingered in little Howon’s heart for days and months. Even today, his heart skips a beat when he heard about wrestling.

Once he learnt wrestling, he never stopped. Sports was his soul, soon he learnt different kinds of sports, and the determination to dedicate his life to sports became a certainty as time passed. He beat his senior when he was 9, he became the school running team when he was 12, he ran first in the inter-school competition when he was 13, he learnt taekwondo when he was 15, he got his black belt when he was 17. Soon enough, his room was filled with certificates on different sports. He never hated doing sports, as long as he could forget everything when the sweat dripped down his cheek.

He existed because sports did. If it wasn’t there with him, he wondered what his life would be. More pitiful, more pathetic, maybe? Or he would have ended everything earlier?

The 10-year-old Howon went to school, only to find his books that he kept in his locker torn into pieces. His classmates were looking at him, laughing like crazy. He stared at the scraps of paper on the floor. His heart was boiling.

He turned his raging gaze towards his classmates, who were still laughing hysterically. They didn’t much care how little Howon felt, most importantly they enjoyed looking at his innocent face attempting to be angry. That was fun for the rest of the rowdy bunch.

Howon tightened his grip, ready to give a lesson to the culprits with his fist which could probably kill a man. At the same time, Namjil stepped into the classroom, and stopped Howon from doing the act that he might regret for his whole life. It was clear to Namjil what had just happened, judging from Howon’s blood-shot eyes and the smile hanging on the others’ faces.

Namjil wrapped his arm around the sad one, comforting and soothing him. Howon mouthed a “thank you” to Namjil, his only friend.

But that was an illusion. The pain of betrayal was unbearable and inerasable.

“Namjil-a, can I share the same room with you during the trip?” the 11-year-old Howon asked his friend.

“No,” Howon was surprised by his friend’s stern answer

“Why?” he whined.

“Why? Then answer me, why should I share the same room with you” Namjil retorted.

“Because we are friends.” Howon answered naturally.

“Friends?” the other smirked, “you think we are friends? Never.”

The little Howon was too shocked to respond, he stared at the person in front of him, who was about to get up, mouth wide opened.

“Why do you think we are friends? Nerd.” Namjil said before leaving.

“Hypocrite,” Howon muttered when he thought about Namjil. “smiling in front of the other’s face while badmouthing them behind their backs.”

Howon later learned that the jerk was actually the mastermind behind all the bullying. The reason why he was close to him, was simply because desired psychotic pleasure out of enjoying little Howon’s innocence.

He thought all the tragedy had ended, once he was promoted to middle school. But that seemed not to be the case. His classmates were nice at the first, but not after he introduced himself to the class.

“Hello, my name is Lee Howon, and I like to play different sports, especially wrestling.” The 13-year-old Howon said as he introduced himself to the class. He heard snickers and murmurs silently spreading in his class.

“You like wrestling? God, look at your body, thin as a paper, seem like a breeze will blow you away. ”

“Wrestling? That’s for people who is fat, and only good at fighting. You nerd.”

Howon’s heart twisted when he heard the word used to belittle him when he was in primary school. He sighed, life in middle school won’t be good either.

Life in the middle school was worse than primary, the bullies were more severe as days went by. He didn’t have any friends, which in some way was better than befriending  hypocrite, like Namjil. No one ever stood up for him, although he seldom received glances from the girls, when they did they were sympathetic.

It was once again that the 15-year-old Howon ran out of the school boundary, tears were at the edge of his eyes, as he made his way past the secluded alleys and quiet backyards of neighboring houses. The sun was setting, casting the sky into an ugly grey-and-orange hue. Howon tore through the front lawn of his house, fumbled around for the key to the front door, almost losing grip on the bunch. Its jingling created a series of unbearably high pitched clinking noises, like thousands of children screaming, almost driving Howonto the point of insanity. His head throbbed violently.

Howon found the right key and slammed open the door. He threw his schoolbag down onto the floor and ran up the stairs, three at a time, with noises ringing in his ear. Cries, laughter, jeering, screams, giggles, shouts. He ran into his room and shut the door.
Immediately, silence filled the atmosphere. There were no more voices. No more cries, laughter, jeering, screams or giggles. Howon could almost hear the dust particles float around the room. Horizontal rays of orange-red sunlight shone through the blinds into the dark room, highlighting the peaceful dust particles which were slowly settling onto the wooden floor.

Howon took a few deep breaths. Then finally, he screamed. He screamed at the top of his lungs, eyes shut, blocking out the world. He screamed until he could hear nothing but the tortured phlegm in his throat, until the powerful sounding waves rebounded off the walls of his tiny room and started throbbing against his own ear drums, until all his anger expelled itself out of his body. When he finally had no more breath, he stopped and breathed in and out rapidly, filling his exhausted lungs with fresh oxygen. Then he threw himself onto his bed and started sobbing.
Slowly, painfully, images of what had happened earlier in school started making their way into his mind. The boys punched him, laughing at his dream of being a wrestler.

Howon was at the edge of explosion. He didn’t know why he was bullied, he did nothing wrong. He looked at the mirror, his face was not that DISGUSTING, although not the face that would make every girl fall in love. He was just an ordinary kid, who like sports.

Howon let out a small sob when he thought of his sad childhood. He looked down again, he thought he heard lies, flattery. He understood, he finally understood why he was not welcomed in this complicated world: jealousy. He was good at a lot of sports, and have a well-build body, though he didn’t know how to counterattack the bullies.

Howon should have realized that he did not need their approval. However, the dislikes stopped his brain from working. He had already forgotten the last time he had enjoyed nature, and think about the world, and life.

The bullies have actually never stopped in his life. Not after he graduated from middle school, not when he promoted to university, not when he was work. The people around him never failed to bully, isolate him. He was always the lonely shadow after school or work. The mimicking never rested, and Howon was tired of them. The thought of suicide was always in his mind, but he couldn’t do that, not when he saw his certifications lying in front of him.

But now, he should end it. Not to mention the physical tiredness from the non-stop work, which is keeping him further from his dream. But also the mental tiredness from the non-stop bullies. He has already reached his limit of tolerance.

If he jumped down now, he didn’t need to face all of the bullying again, and all problems would be solved, right? He took a deep breath, and stepped on the edge of the rooftop. He looked down again. It was always the busy people and traffic. He wasn’t sure why although he was sure he wanted to escape everything, part of him secretly hoped that someone would spot him and stops him from doing so. Maybe the will of living in his nature was too strong.

He looked at what beneath his feet again, still no one noticed his existence up here, near the heaven. Now he should end this, like he planned years ago.

It would be much better, he thought, I would be free from this pain, I could make this all stop and just be free from this life. What is a good way to die, he continued thinking, a scene in which people would feel sorry that they had not treated me better? Many options ran through his head. Drowning himself would be too cliché -- there might even be a chance where nobody would notice his body, laying in the water, dead. Placing himself on the railway tracks seemed like a good choice, but he was afraid that nobody would contact his school and parents, and just think of it as another teenage suicide, not worth to bother about.
The 15-year-old Howon got up from his bed and walked towards the window. Dying isn't as hard to think about as it seems, he thought. It was even a relief to think about. He looked down at the road and smiled. His eyes were swollen and his face was red from crying. There were bruises on his cheekbones, arms and legs. There was dried blood on his upper lip. There were beads of sweat and clumps of dirt in his brown hair. Everything was the results of the bullying, not only verbally, but also physically.

He looked at the road again, mind planning what he should do. First, he would write a suicide note, just to make them feel guilty. Secondly, he would break the window in order for him to pass through with his bare hands, blood dripping was what he expected. Thirdly, jump down, and end everything.

Everything went like he expected, he had done steps except the last. It was at the exact timing that the radio played the news of Korea winning the first running trophy. Memories when he was 6 flushed towards him, overwhelming him. And once again, Howon failed from suicide, because of the passion for sprts. Should that be a pleasure or tragedy, he wasn’t sure.

He stood at the rooftop, everything was still the same. The same sorrow face, the same overwhelming sadness, the same bruises crawling over his body. Except that he was no longer in his room, indoor blocked by the window. He was ready, just one more step would do it, one more.

Everything got a great timing, when Howon had already one foot hanging in the air, his phone vibrated through his pocket. He stopped, and retreated, having the slightest hope that maybe someone noticed him missing from the usual routine, and tried to contact him. Considering this, he picked up the phone after taking his step back. He looked at the phone number, it was an unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Mr. Lee?” a man’s voice.

“Yes, who are you?” Howon couldn’t recognize him, thanks to his lack of social communication ability.

“I am here to sell you a new brand…” not letting the person on the line finished, Howon abruptly cut in.

“No thanks. I need nothing.”

“Sir, it is very good,” the person on the other line insisted.

“I said I DO NOT NEED IT, am I not clear enough?.” Howon was furious, not only because of the stubbornness, but also that his last hope was broken in such an ugly way. He thought someone was aware of him, someone really cares about him, but things just turned out as an annoying cold call.  Failure, total failure.

“Why I even had the slightest hope from the beginning? Just how stupid I am. No matter how many time the world disappointed me, I still believe there will be hope.” Howon muttered. He was still not yet utterly hopeless, a part of him silently hoped that the person on the line would hear him and pull him out from the abyss of depression and disappointment.

And it was the first time God answered his plead. “What? Sir, why should you feel disappointed? This world is amazing! It never failed us, it is you who do not appreciate it?” The person immediately replied.

“The world never failed us, it is me who do not appreciate it?” Howon snorted. “Insane.”

“Sir, I am still young, I might not have as much life experience as you, but I believe it, I believe the world. It is only that the beauty is hidden under the reality and cruelty.”

“I had once been young too, I had once believed in the hidden beauty too. But the world betrayed my naivety, it told me I am hopeless, my dream will still be a dream, impossible. Behind cruelty is still cruelty, the ugly reality.” Howon said bitterly.

“Perhaps,” Howon could hear the other shrugged.

“Not ‘perhaps’, it is the truth, it is the ugly truth that I learnt in my years of life. I endured all the pains just to learn this useless lesson, insane.”

“Wait, sir… Don’t tell me you are going to suicide?” the person burst in realization.

“A bit too dumb.” Howon made a half-hearted laugh.

“Sir, don’t please don’t. Wait for me, I am coming to you, I will persuade you the reason to keep going on.”

Silence. Howon didn’t know what should he answer.

“Where are you? Mapo Bridge?” the other asked franticly.

“Mapo Bridge?” Howon snorted, “that’s too common, nothing to emphasize my difference.”

“Then where are you?”

“Only death can set you free, this sky will be my grave.” Howon said, “that’s all I will give you. Let’s play a game, come a find me within an hour. Even if you are late for a second, you will never see me again, never ever.”

“Wait!” the person yelled, but the only response was the beep beep sound of the phone, indicating the end of conversation.

He tried to call again, again, and again. But as if Howon had disappeared, he didn’t pick up the phone, not at once.

Erin Hannon was being bullied again, in her foster house.

The teenager- Howon was watching the TV series, The Office, feeling sorry for her. Everyone says she was dumb, indeed, she was not smart, but not stupid either. Her life was tough, being labeled as the incapable one, living under her bad foster family. Amazingly, she never complained, she never hated them. It’s unbelievable that she can stay so cheerily naïve.

Howon envied her, how she could be that optimistic, although her life was that tough. He couldn’t do it, he hated the world, he hated life. He was tired of it, the hypocrites, the lies. He wasn’t a TV character, he wasn’t that happy-go-around dumb guy. He wasn’t Mr. Bean, always smiling and laughing no matter how big the mistake he had made, no matter how cruel the others treated him.

Howon didn’t believe in a cheerful personality. Everyone must have hated a part of themselves, who didn’t do well enough in every fields. Everyone must have hated a part of the world, who showed you cruelty rather than the beauty.

He strongly believed this all those years, but that young man had flipped over his world. The young man who turned a cold call to a warm one, who told him that the world never failed us.

His phone had buzzed numerous time, but Howon didn’t get the urge to pick up it. He needed some silence, to think again, to think about the world again. He looked around, observing the view which he didn’t bother to enjoy before. Suddenly, everything seemed amazingly breathtaking.

The horizon sun sunk at the end of the world, giving the city a mysterious mask. Serene, the word popped up in Howon’s mind, as he gazed at the scenery. The skyscrapers slowly started to light up, embellishing the slowly arriving night. The neon light, the chattering, suddenly seemed so alluring. The thought of going to a club, having a nightlife, never came across Howon’s mind, not until that moment.

Maybe the young man was right, the world is beautiful, it never failed us, it was him who didn’t learn to appreciate it.

“Try to look at the world in another perspective,” the 16-year-old Howon was sitting on the couch in the meeting room. Opposite him was an old man, white beard, with thick round glasses, under his white doctor gown was a sweater and checkered suit.

Howon was tired of all the depression, he wanted to fight against them. He wanted to have a new life, a new life which he could be always cheerful, like Erin in The Office.

“Understand the world, and embrace it,” said Mr. Jang. “Howon-a. The reason why a person is special, is that because he is different from others.”

 Howon was feeling much better, with Mr. Jang’s encouragement and approval. He felt content, the smile on his face came back. Though the bullies were still there, not leaving his life, he didn’t feel that miserable like before. He was different, so they bullied him. He was better than them, so they hated him. That’s the reason, Howon believed it at that time.  He got a new life, he was cheerful, he was happy. Everything was good, in his eyes, too good to be true.

The new life he created crumbled when Mr. Jang left. The person who told him not to give up left him, then why should he continued? Even the person whom received his money didn’t willing to help him, then who should he seek help from? The heartache, the heartbreak, it was a day Howon didn’t bear to recall.

“Howon-a,” Howon could sense the different aura in the room when he stepped in.

“Mr.Jang, what’s the matter?”

“Howon-a, my mother was suffering from a serious depression after my father’s death. So I decided to live with my mother.” Mr. Jang said, eyes hanging low.

“Mr. Jang, there’s no need for you to tell me.” Howon was panic seeing the usually serene Mr. Jang turned sad.

“No, there’s a necessity to tell you. My mother lives in America, and there’s a great chance that I’m not coming back to Korea in a short period.” Howon’s mind was blank at that very moment. He couldn’t understand it, no, he dared not to understand it.

One minute till the due time, Howon checked his watch. He stared at the only entrance to the rooftop. He gently, slowly closed his eyes, all his hope was just hope, it will never be true.

He knew it, no one cared about him. Why should he worth to be cared? Even the Mr. Jang, whom he trusted and loved so much, left him. He didn’t get a reason to be cared. He had hope once, but the people, or the world, kept squashing his hope.

“Do you still feel bad that you didn’t die at that moment?” the 18-year-old Howon was listening to the lecture after he was caught standing dangerously on the handrail of the bridge.

“Look at this, Kang Howon won the National Wrestling Championships at the youngest age in Korean history. It is amazingly, right?” The lecturer said. Moonlight Sonata, Howon quivered. The person who brought him to the world of sport, the person who let him devoted his life to sport and wrestling.

“There are so many beauty and interest waiting for you, don’t you anticipate?”the lecturer asked.

Anticipate? Howon closed his eyes, anticipate? How dare he anticipate? If he is disappointed again, the hopeless will just push him towards death. Just like now.

One minute late already, Howon looked at the time again. Why should he even wait, the person probably won’t come.

In desperation, Howon stepped on the edge again, one feet hanging in the dangerous air. He looked at the scenery again, the tearfully beautiful view. One more step, one more. Howon concentrated on his trembling feet, no matter how much he wanted to set himself free, the fear of height was holding him back.

“Wait. Wait.” a voice appeared behind Howon’s back, gasping for breath.

Howon turned his heal, and saw a young man, legs wobbling, probably due to the massive running too find him. His delusive hope.

“What?” Howon said, coldly.

“Mr. Lee? You are Mr. Lee, right?” the young man cheered, couldn’t hide his excitement, “thank, god. I find you.”

Howon finally knew where the young man from.”You are two minute late.” He said, checking the time again. And he turned back to what he was trying to do before, ruthlessly.

“No, Mr. Lee, don’t.”

“You are late.” Howon said. The coldness in his word was able to chill the young man.

“Come down first, please.”

“No way, you are late. You have no right to talk to me.”

“Please, listen to me. Mr. Lee.”

“No.” the young man sighed at the stubborn Howon, seemed like there was only one method left. Gathered all his strength, the young man pulled Howon down from the edge. For the well-build Howon, it was not that easy to be pulled, but he deliberately let the skinny young man won. After all, his desire to live was strong, all he needed was warmth and care which he received from the young man.

“Please, stop it.” Tears were whelming in the young man’s eyes, “Day after day, life will be better, I promise. One day, when you enjoy something beautiful, or you achieve something, you will be great that you hadn’t die. What’s your favourite hobby? Imagine that you have won some award, if you suicide now, then you can’t see them, you can’t have them. Please, don’t waste all your hard works in all the years you spent. Maybe your past is sad, is pathetic, but please don’t strangle the happiness you will have in the future…” and the young man broke into tears.

Howon looked at the tear-stained face in front of him, for the first time, he felt he should not die.

“Thanks, what’s your name?”

“Sunggyu, Kim Sunggyu. You are Lee Howon-xi right?”

“Yes, but…” Howon stopped and gulped, should he tell the stranger in front of him his past which he had told no one before?

“Mom, can I change my name?” the 13-year-old Hodong looked at his mother, begging.

“Why? Aren’t you proud of your name as it is same as the Kang Hodong-xi who you admire?” his mother asked.

“No, not now. I want to change my name!” the little Hodong begged, while on the other hand his parents looked perplexed.

“Hodong-a, why do you want to change it?”

“No reason.” The stubbornness in Hodong had never changed.

And of course, lacking a reasonable reason, his parents didn’t agree with him. But the thought of changing his name was not on impulse. He begged for continuously one month, which he couldn’t get what he wanted. Then he cried for one month about the fact that his name wouldn’t be changed. His parents had witnessed all Hodong’s effort, thought they still didn’t know the exact reason, they let him. And from that day on, Lee Hodong didn’t exist, instead it was Lee Howon.

“But you can call me Hodong…” Howon finished his sentence.

“Ok, Lee Hodong-xi, it sounds good.” Sunggyu flashed his genuine smile.

“Thank you, Sunggyu-xi, you let me to find strength again. Although it might be a bit fake, but your encouraging words made me believe in the beauty again. Believe me, I want to live now, more than anyone.”

“Do you know the cliff ‘The Gap’ in Australia? There lives a great man whose name is Don Ritchie, he had talked 160 out of suicide, just be a simple greeting. I want to be a great man like him too!” Sunggyu once again flashed his smile.

“Thank you.”

“Hodong-xi, why do you have two names? Is Hodong your nickname?”

“No, it was my original name.”

“Oh! So you have a name change, but why?”

Howon’s face hardened, the atmosphere in the previous warm rooftop chilled to negative degree.

“Is.. Is fine if you don’t want to talk.” Sunggyu tried to break the awkward silence between them.

“No, is just that…”

Is a lie if you say that Howon didn’t hesitate, didn’t regret. Giving up the name he used to be proud of, it was unspeakable pain. He loved his name, it made him feel that there was somewhat a connection between him and Kang Hodong, the person he respected most. In the little Howon’s mind, Kang Hodong’s existence was as if the God, being a success wrestler in the first half of life, and a national MC in the second half of life. But he decided to abnegate his only connection with his role model, because maybe it would make his life better.

His classmates loved to , saying he was a nerd, that in love with sport which to the extent that he used to same name with a famous sportsman. Maybe if he changed his name, then his classmates won’t anymore, then he didn’t not to endure all the bullying. This thought made him feel good.

Howon told the young man in front of him the whole story, from he got in love with sports, decided to dedicate his life to sports, bullied by his classmates to the reason he changed his name.

All the time, Sunggyu said nothing. He didn’t get the right to speak. In contrast, his life was comfortable, having a caring family, a bunch of friend and a not-bad result in school.

“I’m sorry.” Sunggyu said after hearing the pathetic story from Howon.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

“Then, let me be your friend.” Sunggyu looked at the smile that slowly forming on Howon’s face, and added, “your best friend.”

“Thanks.” Howon hugged the person in front of him affectionly.

The night had long arrived, under the beautiful stars, two people embraced each other on a common rooftop. Maybe a story isn’t that far from you. 

Author: I know I know, this story is quite lame.

OK, so I update this quite in a rush, so I don't get time to proofread it, please endure my poor English. I will try to edit it tomorrow. ><

Is quite late here, goodnight *wave* *yawn*

(Last but not least, if you like it, please subscribe and comment, it is the main motivation to keep up mmy work :D)