It wasn’t a choice but literally a speaking contract. The recoil hit him because the so-called recoil only attacked when he was alone.

            When Mark was thirteen, his mother got into an accident, though he was perfectly fine minus a minor concussion or two, his mother brunt the full effect of the accident. She went into a partial brain dead causing her to depend on the oxygen tank, body fitted into a comatose state.

            Though amazingly at one night she woke up, assuring Mark that she wouldn’t even let him go and to stay alive, only to immediately leave him later on, hands cold in Mark’s own tiny fists.

           For years, Mark couldn’t stabilize himself. Shortly after his mother’s funeral, he left. He left the vast mansion, his mother’s final resting site, and his dad— accompanied by a young looking woman who smiled a little bit too happy, he wondered why.

            He went on foot. Starting from his house in Gyeonggi-do, to Busan, sidling near to Incheon and finally setting his foot in Seoul. He undergoes changes from a bit overweighed child to dangerously underweight. Mark’s dad didn’t even realize that he was missing until a fortnight later after he ran away. Though his girlfriend convinced the old man from searching and claiming him back. How sad.

            He had already reached into his pre-adulthood, at the tender age of seventeen when he found solace in Jaebum. Im Jaebum, the young, kind university student who took great care of his juniors a lot. The peculiar child Bambam and the innocent little deer, Kim Yugyeom. Jaebum is the one who took him in, feeding him morsels of food as he smiled gently at Mark.

            Mark worked his off and his business-minded brain didn’t waste for cent