“Ken,” Daesung tries his best to put his stern face, holding himself together. His limbs ache from cleaning up. “Where did you get it?”

Ken refuses to give him answers, keeping his stare fixed at his kangaroo plushie.

“I’m talking to you, Ken.”

The baby shakes his head.

Daesung sighs for the nth time. It’s supposed to be a good day, he mutters under his breath. It’s finally his day off after three exhausting months of going back and forth between Japan and Korea, not to mention those singing and dancing practices every day, body training whenever he had time to. He’s been waiting for it, he’s been looking forward to spend a day with his family. What he really wished for was for them to have a meal together and talked about many things they’ve been missing to witness about each other. He couldn’t help but slightly disappointed knowing that Seunghyun had to go filming –the schedule just came in yesterday and Seunghyun had apologize twice for it eventhough technically it wasn’t his fault –but he supposed that taking care of his kid alone for a day would not be that bad.

Or in this case, tiring.

“Give me the rest, okay?”

What he meant was the rest of Ken’s ammunition but he might as well pleading for some time to close his eyes and sleep.

His son pouts and finally, very slowly, looks at him in the eyes. It’s a trick he had learned from Seunghyun although Daesung isn’t sure if a three years old understand the effect of a doe eyes on him. “Can I keep it?”

“Can you promise me to never do that again?”

“No?” Ken’s voice is tiny, full with hopes. His bangs askew, he’s still in his Iron Man pajama.

“Then no, you can’t.”

“Why?”

Daesung wonders if his exhaustion is not visible enough and why why is an everyday question coming from a toddler. His stomach growls in desperation and hunger. The sound makes his son grins, as if it was the bell that’d save his day.

“What are we going to eat?” his eyes disappear as he throws his arms around Daesung’s legs. Ken loves picking the meals from their favorite restaurant’s menu set eventhough he can barely read them. Seunghyun would explain to him one by one and Ken would shower him with questions and affections. At the thought, Daesung shakes his head.

He has to deal with it himself today.

“We’re not going to get anything if you don’t tell me where you got it.”

Ken’s face falls and he clings tighter, pressing his face against Daesung’s thigh. “Please?”

Daesung resists the urge to let go of the matter. He still has to deal with Seunghyun’s chair and Ken doesn’t seem to understand that if he doesn’t manage to clean it up on time, both of them will have to deal with Seunghyun’s grumpy mood.

“Tell me first.”

“Appa, please?”

“Or I’ll call Seunghyun–appa.”

Ken’s eyes lit up at the mention of the name. “Really?”

Daesung glances at the clock, considering his own threat. “Really,” he picks up his phone and dials the numbers he memorizes by heart. Ken, still clinging onto his leg, smiles.

“Is everything okay?” Seunghyun skips the greeting before Daesung has any chance to say hello. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Daesung swallows the lump in his throat. He’s a grown up and he’s not going to cry and be emotional over the fact that they’ve been both very busy for months it’s hard to say they’re living in the same house.

“What’s wrong? Is Ken okay?”

Daesung looks down to his son, whose eyes wide open. Stories are running in his mind but sentences get stuck in his throat. How is he going to tell Seunghyun about what had happened?

That he had woken up earlier in order to be able to get fresh morning air only to be shocked by the sight of sparkles all over their son’s bedroom?

That Ken, someone, had woken up earlier too and by any chance discovered two bottles glitters –which Daesung has no idea how it could be in their house –and spilled it all over his bedsheet and Seunghyun’s chair and floor and his new Vans’ shoes that matched Daesung’s?

That his spine had gone from scrubbing the floor and washing the sheet and trying to clean up the shoes and, still, he cannot get rid of those sparkling glitters on Seunghyun’s chair?

That today is supposed to be a good day and he’s missing their times together but it’s almost ten and they have nothing to eat?

“Daesung?” Seunghyun asks again, almost positive it’s a bad news.

Daesung sighs. “Ken had glitters and it’s all over our house now, hyung.”

There’s a pause and Daesung is sure that Seunghyun is holding his breath. Or probably planning on how to discipline their son.

“And then?”

“And then?” he parrots in confusion. His three years old crawls on his leg, waiting for his chance to speak with his father.

Seunghyun laughs and it vibrates straight to Daesung’s heart, messing up with the feelings he doesn’t realize he’s been piling up for months, the longing.

“It’s just glitters, Daesung.”

“Just glitters?” the meltdown is coming and he’s out of control. Rage and sadness are all over the place, in every inch of his skin. He is having a day off and he doesn’t deserve this just glitters morning, no. “How could you say that it’s just glitters?!”

“Daesung?”

“I’VE BEEN CLEANING UP SINCE THIS MORNING AND MY KNEES HURT, MY SHOULDERS ARE ACHING, MY HANDS ARE RED AND IT’S STILL ING SPARKLING EVERYWHERE, I AM GOING TO BE BLIND, HYUNG!!”

“I didn’t mean –”

“YOU DIDN’T MEAN TO TELL ME WHAT?”

Daesung tries to catch a breath, his throat hurts from screaming. Before he has any chance to speak –or probably cry –his son, who has gone quiet upon hearing the loud words, dissolves into tears beside him. And Daesung, finally gives up to his heart, joins him to sit on the floor and sob, leaving the confused and panicked Seunghyun on the other line of the phone, forgotten.

***

It feels like eternity, but they finally calm down with Daesung’s arms around Ken’s small body.

“I’m sorry, appa.”

Guilt settles upon Daesung. He’s not supposed to scream like that, he shouldn’t scare his son. Sure, it’s his fault but Daesung knows he’s been pouring anger not only of the glitters incident but also everything else he’s been keeping inside him for the sake of his upcoming singing project.

“I shouldn’t scream like that, I’m sorry,” his voice creaks and Ken smiles because it sounds like a frog in his favorite cartoon. “We should eat something, come on.”

Ken wraps his arms around his father’s neck. He loves the scent of sweat and the warmth seeping out from his Daesung–appa’s shirt as he buries his face on his shoulder. His neck is strong and his skin is slightly darker than Ken’s but it’s a beautiful color. His father also has beautiful lips with small dot near it and he loves it so much when he sings, he silently wishes he’d be able to sing just as good. His Daesung–appa used to sing him to sleep at night but he’s been away for months and Ken got to stay in his grandmother’s house almost every day.

His father comes back today but he had made him upset and worse, sad.

“I’m sorry,” he wants to cry again. “Are you going to leave me?”

Daesung’s hand stops soothing circle on his son’s back. “Leave?”

“Yeah,” Ken sniffs, his eyes are red. His nose feels so stuffy and funny. “Like yesterday.”

“No,” Daesung puts his son on a chair. Next to it is the one still with sparkling glitters all over. “Today I’m staying home.”

“But you’re mad.”

“It doesn’t mean I’ll leave you, Ken.”

“Why not?”

Daesung isn’t sure if he’s going to give him the best answer. But Ken deserves an answer just as much as he deserves a rest. His son deserves a day to not to choose which of his grandmother going to babysit him today. He deserves a day to mess around in his own house rather than playing with his cousin’s toys. “Because this is our house and we’re staying here today, you and me, no matter how mad we are at each other.”

“I’m not mad at you, appa.”

“I was mad at you. But I’ve made you cry and I shouldn’t do that no matter how mad I was.”

“It’s okay,” Ken touched his father’s hair and sees some glitters stuck on the strands. He hopes he won’t be mad for it or tell him to never again his hair. He is the only one who gets permission all the time to touch it and he’s not losing his privilege; he gets scared often just by thinking about it. “You cried too.”

“I did,” Daesung laughs, feeling stupid. He had let his feeling and longing out in front of his son when he’s supposed to discipline him for making a mess. “I’m just tired.”

They sigh in unison and smiles. For a while it’s only silence filling up.

“Appa?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s a just glitters?”

“Those sparkling things you poured out all over your bedroom, sweetheart.”

Ken blinks in disbelief. “Aren’t them stars?”

“Stars?” Daesung asks in shock. His son doesn’t even know what that thing was and thought it was stars. “No, it’s not stars. Stars are up in the sky, remember?”

“But it’s sparkling,” Ken states stubbornly. “Not stars?”

“No, it’s not,” Daesung shakes his head. When his son’s eyes start to get watery again, he rushes to make excuse. “But we can think of it as stars, of course.”

“It won’t work,” Ken whispers, fat lone tear roll from his left eye and Daesung’s heart breaks at the sight. He doesn’t know why or how or what that will not work and he feels small as a parent. Pulling his son close against his chest, he hums a song. The sobs stop almost immediately, tiny arms around his neck tighten its hold.

***

“So, baby?”

“Hmm?” Ken lifts his face from his bowl. He doesn’t really like spinach but his Daesung–appa will make sure he eat it anyway.

“What’s not going to work?” Daesung watches his son feeding himself with his spoon. Seunghyun has been eager to teach him how to properly use a chopstick.

“Wishes,” the baby says. “Shooting stars.”

It finally starts making sense and Daesung is torn in between crying and laughing.

“Did you throw it all over the place because you thought it would make your wishes come true?”

Ken nods, finding no odds in it at all. “It’s baby stars so I sprinkled.”

Daesung leans back on his seat, trying to believe his fate. His son had wishes he wanted so badly to come true that he started to make his own shooting baby stars. “What did you wish for?”

“I want you to be home.”

It’s simple yet for their family, especially recently, it’s quite impossible. At the acknowledgement of that fact, Daesung squeezes his son’s hand gently.

“I’m home today, Ken.”

“But Seunghyun–appa –”

Something –someone –bursts through the door with such force and urgency that make Daesung jumps and stands vigil in front of his son.

“What happened?” Seunghyun’s hair is half–white, probably still in the process of coloring when Daesung called him. “Are you hurt?”

“Appa!” Ken screams happily as he runs to Seunghyun’s arms.

Daesung doesn’t know what Seunghyun had told his manager and everyone else in order to get permission to go back to their house, just as much as he doesn’t know how to explain everything without getting scolded from the older man. For now, glitters seem a lot like stars and he has the urge to wish upon some too, just like Ken had done.

“Let’s eat,” he smiles. “I’m starving.”

 

It’s not a day like what he had planned but it’s his opportunity to be with his family and a day with his family is always a good day.