Home

I had always thought that ‘home’ was a place where you felt welcomed and loved. Home was where you felt happiest no matter what happened or who you fought with. You could get into the loudest quarrels with your siblings still grin cheesily the next day along with them; get scolded by your mother for not doing for your chores and yet kiss her every morning before going to school shouting ‘I’m off!’; learn simple yet fascinating things from your father despite having fought with him just the other day for not paying due attention to your academic performance. Home was where you could get grounded for mistakes and were made to reflect upon it because it was ‘for your own good’. Home was a safe haven – for when school didn’t go well, or when you had a bad day at school or at work; or when you were simply feeling down because of something as irrelevant as the weather. Home was where one could be happiest despite the ups and downs. But all that seemed a very far off ideal now…

‘Don’t touch me with your filthy hands,’ grandmother hisses out as I tried to lift her back into the chair that she had fallen out of just a moment ago. She had on her face the most disgusted look, her lips frowned in deep scorn and eyebrows crunched up like raisins. In all truth, she reminded me of an old wrinkled eggplant looking like that. It didn’t help that she had recently gotten tanned so she wasn’t the fairest at the moment.

‘Such a disappointment you are,’ she continues to mumble under her breath. I let her struggle back to the chair by herself since she had ‘oh-so-kindly’ refused me. Apparently, she wasn’t done with her curses. ‘You’re going to hell, boy. Mark my words.’

To such comments, I could only sigh. Yes, it did hurt but I had promised myself that I would not break under the hate before actually coming back home. I mean, it wasn’t voluntary that I was at my grandfather’s third death anniversary. I had been forced to attend the necessary rituals and perform due rites by my immediate family who, by the way, had full knowledge of my dislike against our previous generation.

Grandmother sits back on that stupid chair and refuses to recede her mumbling about ungrateful children who had no respect for the natural order. She had, on several occasions, invoked her dead husband’s name to come and punish me. Needless to say, nothing happened but that was beyond disrespectful towards me.

Personally, I found it funny. When I was a kid, I was a gemstone in a sea of dull rocks. I mean no offence to my siblings and cousins but I was confident that my determination and will regarding anything that I am passionate about were second to none. I still am. My academic performance was excellent, I was in perfect mental health which caused my extended family to have the highest expectations of me though it was not their business in the very least. But this all changed. It all changed when I decided t reveal to them that I had fallen in love with my best friend and had decided to get an apartment with him after graduating from high school.

All the gleam in the people’s eyes vanished like a blown out candle. So supportive they were of my decision that they had, twice or thrice, brought over priests to ‘cleanse me of my sin of being gay’.

My two sisters were a little surprised at first when I decided to tell them the news, and so was my strongly ‘Christian to the core’ mother. But they listened to my side and realized that I was free to make a choice regarding the person I love, if not anything else. Father wasn’t all that pleased too when I told him of my ual preference. But he’s getting around it. Four years after I move away from the house, I can feel him warming up to me. Sure there are some awkward moments when we discuss relationships (awkward on his part) but I can see him trying hard not to offend me. And that’s all I could ever ask for. In fact, we are almost back to the times when he would teach me such simple things like changing the bulbs in the house or fixing the pipes.

The problem, I knew from the beginning and even now, lied with my extended family. Believe me when I say this: we are not close. But they are somewhat nosey. No scratch that. They are incredibly nosey. They are the type of people who have to have their nose in everyone else’s business, their finger in every pie. And after doing so, judge the pie maker about it.

I mean, I don’t mind haters. I’m not attracted to them per se but I really cannot care less on what they think or how they function. Because you are free to your own choices (given that I am also not the brightest person myself). But it’s sort of disheartening when the hate is at your expense every single time. Sometimes I imagine what one could do instead of hating all day every day. But hey, I’m not really going to go deeper into that.

It really is funny how that love that they had for me when I was supposedly ‘normal’ took a drastic turn and eventually fell off the cliff when they found out that my ual preference was a little, how should I put it, a little different. There was this one time, I remember vividly, where one of my kid cousins had been warned specifically not to come near me or talk to me because I had a ‘contagious disease’ (in fact, all of the children were and still are). My younger sister tried to explain to my uncle that being gay wasn’t a disease but it wasn’t of any use talking to a deaf statue. And since there is still a strong line of patriarchal bull going on in the family where the elders ‘should be respected’ at all times despite being worthy of it or not, uncle dearest refused to listen. Anyhow, being the little rebel that the kid cousin was, she climbed onto my lap (she was six and I was nineteen) as I sat in a chair on the front porch while reading a book and gave me the most mischievous smile that I had seen on her face. I smiled back and asked what she was up to. The book had been carefully placed down on the clean wooden floor by the time the little devil settled in fully.

‘Daddy told me not to come near you,’ she started bluntly. I could simple reply with ‘yes, he did.’

‘But why?’ she asked innocently.

I had, by then, grabbed a lock of her soft wispy hair and began to tie it in plaits. ‘Why can’t I come near you, Yoongi oppa?’ she pressed on.

‘Apparently it’s because I like boys.’ I smiled at my answer. It was absurd in itself. I didn’t expect her to understand though.

‘So?’ she asked with the straightest face that I had ever seen on anyone. ‘I like boys too but mummy or daddy never treated me like this. My big brother too likes boys. His best friend is a boy.’

I chose my words carefully. ‘Well, they think that it’s different. It’s unnatural for a boy to like another boy like the way I do. Romantically, I mean.’

‘You mean like how Hyori unni likes boys? Like a boyfriend?’

‘Yeah, like that.’ I completed the plaits and rested them softly on her shoulder.

‘So… instead of having a girlfriend, like Sangwon oppa does, you have a boyfriend? With whom you kiss and hold hands?’

‘Yup.’

‘Oh.’

She took some time to think and then came up with a question which made me restore my faith in the human race again (a little bit of an exaggeration here but who cares?) ‘So why am I not allowed to talk to you then?’

I am normally very good at comebacks, believe me, but this question had rendered me speechless. So I could only answer with a fond smile. ‘I haven’t the slightest clue, Suri.’

But that’s all I choose to share about my family, extended, I mean. Because thinking about them has become somewhat problematic and it makes me feel tedious.

‘Yoongi!’ I hear my elder sister call from the kitchen. ‘Aunty Ji-eun needs help with help with the lighting of the incense sticks.’ I walked into the same room that she had called out from to see her peeling some fruits for what looked like a fruit salad with more fruits than what one could find in a fruit fairy’s orchard. Of course, these were to be served to the ‘mourners’ who were lazing around in the living room, weren’t they? ‘Could you help her?’ she requested of me.

Distracted by the amount of fruit peel I could see in the waste bin, I could only make a tired face. I mean, call me uncooperative but I always hated the fact that father was the eldest amongst his siblings. Because it only meant that all of the ‘family meetings’ took place at our house.

Before I can answer in the affirmative about helping the mentioned aunt with the silly sticks, both my sister and I hear this from the other room instead: ‘No. I don’t need a sissy tainting father’s memorial alter.’ And there she was, in flesh and blood, aunt Ji-eun with her annoyingly over the top ruffles sharp, ever judgmental voice.

‘Auntie!’ my sister exclaims but I hold her back. It was my fight and if I couldn’t make a reply to this, I wasn’t the Min Yoongi whom Jimin had fallen for (confident much?). ‘Wow,’ I say rather sarcastically. Remembering all the times that aunt Ji-eun had labelled me a ‘sissy’, I glare at her. ‘Your vocabulary is quite limited, isn’t it, aunt Ji-eun?’

‘You do not have the right to talk to me, you filthy boy. You deserve to go to hell!’ she spits out.

I don’t have the strength anymore but I manage to give her a smile. ‘Rather hell than where you are.’

‘Yoongi,’ father’s stern voice sounds from the door and it brings me to a sudden halt to my thoughts. Our aunt continues to run now that her big brother has come to side with her. ‘Look at what the child is doing! Making such smart replies at his elders. How disrespectful! I always told you, didn’t I? That gays were filthy?’

See? I told you that they could hate.

‘Ji-eun,’ father, knowing full well that he was the eldest in the family, commands. His eyes are strict and warning and both my sister and I know that he is furious. ‘The child you are talking about is my son who has brought me much pride. And you will never talk about him like that under my roof ever again, are we clear?’

Auntie dearest huffs her frustration and stomps out of the room. Yeah, real mature. I am about to smile in victory when father calls my name. The sternness is gone but he has a cautious look. ‘And Yoongi? Don’t answer back to them.’

Sister was quick to the rescue. ‘But dad, she started it!’

‘But they’re still your elders,’ father’ eyes mellows down a bit. ‘Besides, paying them no heed regarding this only proves your lack of concern about their opinions.’

I nod in gratitude and mutter out a weak ‘thanks’. ‘I’ll head back to my room,’ I quickly say and do so. I really do want to help my sisters but given the turbulent atmosphere down there, and given the fact that most of the insults were aimed at me, I decide that running away was the best option.

As soon as I fall onto my bed, back against the soft surface, I fish out my cell phones from the pockets. Jimin. Jimin. Jimin – I scroll through the contacts and call the number as soon as I find it. Jimin picks up on the third ring.

‘Hi hyung!’ he answers cheerily.

I chuckle at his bubbly voice. This was it. My spring of youth. ‘Hey Jiminnie.’

‘Is everything okay? You don’t sound so good.’ It was amazing that Jimin could sense out my weariness with just a chuckle and two words. My nose begins to sting a little as I hear the concern lced in his voice. But I breathe in deep and reply that it was fine. ‘Just you know, the usual.’

‘How’s your family?’ he then asks, trying to distract my mind. His voice is soft and light but I can sense the worry.

‘They’re fine too.’

A moment of silence.

‘How’re you though?’ I ask.

Jimin replies that he was well but that he missed me, that he was missing me a lot.

‘I know,’ I reply. I missed him too. A little too much. ‘Don’t worry,’ I assure myself and him, ‘I’ll be back in three days.’

‘But that’s too long,’ Jimin whines through the phone. I had to clutch my heart when he did that. He honestly is just too adorable to be legal.

Light talks follow until we come to the topic of home. Jimin’s parents had both died by the time he joined high school and since he had no siblings, he needn’t go anywhere during the breaks. So, when the topic came out, he allowed me to talk more.

‘I always thought,’ I said and looked up at the mild yellow ceiling blankly, the cell phone pressed firmly against my ear, ‘that home was where you would be eternally happy despite differences, despite anything.’

‘I’m not irrational,’ I quickly validate myself. ‘I know that [people get into fights and are at odds at each other at times. But to me, home was where, despite all that, you still loved each other and enjoyed peace of mind. To me, home was where the heart lay – where one was accepted regardless of the shortcomings.’

I go on although I felt that I was talking a little too much. And perhaps I was being insensitive to Jimin too in a way but I needed to let this out of my system. ‘I’m not saying that I’m not happy with my family now. But with all these drama going on, I can’t seem to find any peace of mind.’

Jimin simply hums attentively as I speak on. ‘It’s no longer the place I remember, Jimin. It has changed. The people have changed, including me and I’m scared that I’ll no longer be happy here – at least as happy as I was back then.’

I knew I was being a whiny over this. I understand the concept of change. I know that nothing can remain the same but I really did not want my amily, my image of readymade happiness to be crushed just because of my uality. True, my family (which accounts for my immediate siblings, mother and father. I couldn’t give a rat’s about the others) still accepted me and loved me but there was a little strain concerning discussions with me. I know mother and father both are trying their best but it’s just not enough. What was I to do then? Just because I was in love with a person from the same gender did not make me an entirely different entity, did it?

After a moment of silence, Jimin finally speaks and what he says reconfirms all of my existence.

‘You’ll always be happy there, hyung. After all, you love your sisters and your parents. And nothing can ever change that. But just know that when you come back home, I’ll be here.’

I had always thought that ‘home’ was a place where you felt welcomed and loved. Home was where you felt happiest no matter what happened or who you fought with. You could get into the loudest quarrels with your siblings still grin cheesily the next day along with them; get scolded by your mother for not doing for your chores and yet kiss her every morning before going to school shouting ‘I’m off!’; learn simple yet fascinating things from your father despite having fought with him just the other day for not paying due attention to your academic performance. Home was where you could get grounded for mistakes and were made to reflect upon it because it was ‘for your own good’. Home was a safe haven – for when school didn’t go well, or when you had a bad day at school or at work; or when you were simply feeling down because of something as irrelevant as the weather. Home was where one could be happiest despite the ups and downs. And boy, was I right.

With just those few words, Jimin had managed to crush my heart and yet, give me a new better one. And I couldn’t be more grateful. With just those few sentences, he made able to rebuild my whole self.  With just that simple talk, Jimin, my lover, my ‘partner in crime’ and my best friend and other half managed to strengthen and reaffirm my image of a home – but just with a slight shift in location.

‘Come home, Yoongi hyung.’

That was all I needed to reconfirm my decisions. And within two hours, I was out of the house that I had previously called ‘home’. I apologized to my parents and siblings for leaving earlier than I had planned but I couldn’t take in the negativity any more. Both my sisters gave me quick pecks on either sides of my cheeks as did my mother on my forehead.

‘Don’t apologize,’ my mother coughed out. I noticed her teary eyes but her lips were curved up in a beautiful smile. ‘You and I both made both of mistakes. But your choice at love isn’t one.’

Fighting the urge to cry, I hugged her tighter than I had ever before and kissed the top of her head. It was quite an advantage to tower over mother – you could smell her milky shampoo whenever you did so.

Father too gave me a warm embrace. Upon releasing, he patted my shoulder and gave me a tight smile. I apologized once again for leaving before the rituals were actually over. ‘It’s fine,’ he assured. ‘But the next time you come over, you’re making up for it,’ he joked. ‘Go now. Hurry home. You don’t want to be too late by the time you reach.’

Five long hours in the train and another twenty minutes in a taxi brings me right to the foot of the building I stayed in. I rush up without any second thoughts and not soon after, find myself in front of mine and Jimin’s apartment door. Quickly fishing out the keys from my jacket’s pocket, I fitted them turned the keyhole and then the knob, and opened the door all the while paying no heed to the foggy breath heaving out of my probably chapped lips.

Once inside, I kick off my shoes all too excitedly and walk into the living room, not running but not exactly strolling in there either. I am met with a wide eyed Jimin who had just turned to see who had opened the doors while it was still locked from the inside. He was still in his pajamas and the bed hair was more than prominent. I don’t mean to be over confident but I guess he too missed me a little too much.

‘Yoongi hyung?’ he could only squeak out. His eyes resembled that of an owl. And the sight was more than enough to render me motionless though my heart thundered. I was reminded of all the firsts that I had experienced with Jimin right at that moment – my first best friend, my first heart skipping moment, my first kiss, the first time I had , my first ‘I love you’…

I drop my bags with a loud thud and open my lips to say everything that I had thought through. But nothing came out. Instead, my body made up for my inability by managing the weakest smile as my eyes tear up to see Jimin’s surprise slowly but eventually turn to joy.

And that’s when I simply state the one sentence that covered everything that was in my mind.

‘I’m home.’

A sudden force pushes me to move a little from my original position but thank goodness Jimin has a well-balanced center of gravity. The sudden waft of citrus, chocolate and everything Jimin envelop me as the very same person embraced me in the tightest bear hug yet.

‘Welcome home, hyung.’

AN: I really apologize for the hiatus. I know nobody cares buuutttt I was completely unable to write because I really couldn't produce anything at all. There were ideas but I just couldnt write them out. My hands failed me... heh heh heh. But fret not. I am recovering. And will update the other fanfic(s) very soon.

Concerning the message of this one, I am really affected by unaccepting families over the uality of a child so I wrote this at the spur of the moment (the idea of 'home' has too been jumping around my head for some time now as it concerns real life situations). Anyway, since it wasn't beta read by anyone, there are bound to be some mistakes. Do point them out, if you see them and I'll correct them.

And to all of you who read this, thank you in advance. I love you...

Yours indefinitely,

TypicalFangirl09