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Home.

Pulling up to the front of the long three sectional stucco building, Jongin stepped out of the cab. The engine faded into the distance as he walked up the spruced yard to the dome front door a beige shade darker than the rest of the house.

The property was a private estate. A built-in pool lay in the center directly behind the main building, the center of the three sections. His mother often held pool parties with her lady friends. Drinking fancy cocktails on the deck or in the pool on floats. Bathe in the sunshine innocuously chatting while the men drink beer and hard liquor in the dining room, smoking their cigars, chuckling over talks of women, and gossip. That was his father’s regular hangouts of poker or friendly card games. It was what his parents often did in their wealthy lives.

Jongin had been the only child among the adults. Mostly he enjoyed his games in his private suite in the far-right building where all the bedrooms were located. The pact between him and his parents was: if he didn’t bother them, they wouldn’t bother him. For most of Jongin’s young life, the promise had been loyally kept.

The last building consisted of his father’s office where he dealt with numerous meetings and phone calls. Jongin had been there more often than not.

Movie and drama posters hung proudly on the creamy eggshell white walls. As one crossed the corridor the works of many years reminded him how refined his father was in the entertainment industry. Behind the deep maple desk in his work office, his father could sit and conduct his dealings while marveling over all his successful works. Throughout the length of his career so many artists, celebrities, and directors had crossed this path to have meetings with his father.

Opening the back door of the main building, Jongin stepped onto a limestone walkway. Rocks in large various sizes smoothed out as a path cut around the giant center pool, where on the other side a generous tri-level stone fountain ended the yard. Across it pine and thick wild bushes wrapped around the spacious backyard for privacy from peepers.

Today the pool glistened clearly. Light blue veins crisscrossed through the still waters smelling strong of chlorine bringing imageries of his own swims on hot summer days. The pool was cleaned of debris and leaves, and refilled for what he predicted would hold another one of his mother’s pool parties. Jongin hadn’t seen the woman when he came in through the main lobby. He assumed she was out on one of her shopping extravaganzas prowling the mall for a skin tight bathing suit to cover her skinny body – the result of strenuous yoga she was into.

“Look at my flat stomach!” The woman had boasted to him one day. Pinching his cheek, she had squealed, “Let’s find you a girlfriend one day and she can exercise with me! Can you imagine that? Two of your ladies being pretty together. It’s important to look after your body, you know?”

Veering left he pulled a door identical to the front door open. A wide hallway b with popular sitcom, movie, or drama promotional posters on either side called out to him. Jongin experienced a sense of déjà vu. Sensing immediately he knew the actual purpose of today’s visit. Why his father had called in the first place.

He could turn around and leave. Walk out the same way he had arrived. On the ride away from home he could call his dad, say something had come up with one of his classes. He would evade coming back even after he graduated. Stopping home only when he’d written and produced his own script.

If…

Jongin pushed forward despite thinking so. He respected his father in the same twisted way Namjoo never shoved away from her parents’ dreams and expectations.

Reaching the end of the hallway he knocked on the closed door. “Come in,” his father called out from the other side.

“I’m here.” Jongin opened the door.

Grinning, his father stood from behind his maple desk. Waving him into one of the two club chairs in front of the desk.

“Was the ride long? Are you hungry? Want something to drink?” His father wondered sitting into his luxurious black leather chair. “Your mother is out, so you must’ve not seen her on your way in. She was so excited you’re coming home.”

“I had a feeling she was out.” Jongin said.

Rubbing his chin, the old man leaned back into his manager’s chair. “When do you graduate?”

“Next year, spring.” Jongin replied. “I’ve already most of my credit requirements. I just need two more core courses to apply for it.”

Sitting forward, the old man waved his hand. “Forget graduation, Jongin. It’s not important, you don’t need that stuff.”

“But I still want to learn about writing.” Jongin reasoned.

“Son, you don’t need to focus on writing anymore.” His father explained. “I’ve been in my profession for years and I’ve seen the process of everything from scripts all the way down to auditions, editing, and producing. It’s really difficult and strenuous. I would prefer you don’t break your back trying to make it. Most scripts are rejected on the spot. In the long run you’ll just exhaust your time and money. So, I’ve already decided for you.

“Become Namjoo’s manager. You can accompany her from one schedule to another. That will be a nice convenient job for you, and you two are comfortable with each other. Joon Suh and I have already discussed this, and we both agree this is the best decision. A lot of new artists are scammed by their managers, but Namjoo’s parents trust you and this is very important. They’re outstanding celebrities, you have to understand how big this is. For me and your mom, Joon Suh and Lee Bi, Namjoo and you. This is an excellent opportunity that won’t come again.

“So, how about it?”

♠♠♠♠♠

“Your father found a really nice lady.” His mother tried to persuade over the phone.

“Dad’s opinion of women , mom.” Sehun blasted. “You’re really going to say that to me?”

“Don’t talk about your father like that!” His mother scolded. “Have some respect Sehun. Your father worries about you. He’s doing this for you in your best interest.”

“Dad doesn’t car about me.” Sehun argued. “Or you.”

In his mind’s eye his mother had just bit her tongue, hurt. It made him feel guilty, but angrily, Sehun refused to make an apology.

She was pathetic for even defending his father. Couldn’t she see that old man did not give a damn?

After a second of seething, Sehun asked, “Did he come home this week?”

Her voice cheered up. “Will you come have lunch?”

“No.” He flatly stated.

“Sehun, please.” His mother begged. In the background he the distinctive sound of a door clicking. Quick, he thought. It had to be opening if not closing. Who else would be home with that woman?

“He’s there isn’t he?” Sehun asked. “He made you call me?”

He heard his mother’s faint voice and a rush of voices. Then, “Sehun?” His father.

Groaning, Sehun slammed his forehead into his desk. He was in the dorm on a Sunday morning. Just woken up and about to go brush his teeth when his phone rang. He feared the worst when he saw his mother calling. Already knew what she was going to say. Come home, have lunch, your father is here.

She would make him feel sorry and he’d go see the jackass. Then they’d get mad at each other, because the old man always had something to say about his future. Dance is . Don’t do it. Find something real to invest in. Sehun would storm out, come back to the university angry. Same thing, always.

It was real tiring, but it always happened.

“I know you’re there.” His father gruffly said.

“What?” Sehun angrily replied. He would throw a tantrum and he didn’t care how old he was. He was too irritated to give a damn. Parents pestering him in this time and age. He would give them back the same medicine they fed him.

“Did you hear your mother?” His father asked, his tone deep and dark. Telling he wasn’t going to take his crap. “You come young man. I already arranged the date. She’s a nice young woman and very pretty. I know you will like her.”

“You mean you like her,” Sehun grumbled loud enough or him to hear, because he wanted to make the old man mad intentionally.

“Oh Sehun!” His father raised his voice. “You will go or I will come pick you up and sit with you, so don’t you act like a child with me...”

Removing the phone from his ear Sehun hit the button to hang up. Snagging his toothbrush and toothpaste he threw the phone onto the desk and walked out as it rang and rang again.

♠♠♠♠♠

For a while the letter sat on her desk untouched. By the window the flowers wilted more each coming day. Every morning Namjoo collected the rotting leaves and tossed them into the garbage. Time was running out for the flowers. Just like expiration dates come for everything.

Time running out…

Grabbing her bag, she walked out of the dorm, crossed the lot, and wound her way down the pavement to the girls’ dormitory. If she recalled correctly, Hayoung shared a room with one of the girls from the drama club.

On the way up the stairs Namjoo debated turning back around. Wondering if this was being too much. Did it make her look desperate?

On the other hand, she thought why not? The other night she had returned with her heart wildly fluttering. And she thought Sehun had smiled as hard she had despite trying to hide it when they walked back to campus. She remembered glancing back over her shoulder every other step to see Sehun doing the same, too, when they separated.

Namjoo had never felt like that before. It was something good she knew, and she was sad she hadn’t seen him throughout the week. No matter how often she went through the library intentionally looking for him. Thinking they could sit and study together, because being around him made her feel a kind of high.

Later, she thought, they could go to that restaurant he had planned for them. Too bad she had gotten sidetracked by the arcade and the pizza parlor. Summoning back the thought of their stroll in the sunset which led them to the playground. A buzz shot up her spine again at the remembrance.

Namjoo wanted to giggle when she stepped in front of the door. Clearing , she mentally rehearsed what she’d say before knocking. It was the drama girl who came to the door. Searching over her shoulder, Namjoo asked, “Is Hayoung there?”

Someone moved, got out of a chair, and shuffled over. The door widened a bit when Hayoung came into view. Excusing herself the other girl disappeared and Namjoo in a breath nervously.

Lifting up the note in her hand Namjoo hesitated. Finally ing it forward, she said, “Can you pass this onto Sehun?”

Her eyes dove toward the folded note.

her dry lips, Namjoo added, “Can you do it today? Like, later?”

“I’ll text him and see what he’s up to.” Hayoung said.

“Thanks,” Namjoo grinned. “I actually have to go somewhere right now, but…maybe before five?”

Smiling, Hayoung took the note from her and held it up. “I’ll let him know.”

Bumbling with glee Namjoo spun around and hurried out of the building. One score for her she thought as she raced down the pavement. Pausing by the student union when she spotted Jongin walking out carrying several sheets of paper.

Walking over, she greeted, “Hey.”

Glancing up, he flipped the papers over so she couldn’t tell what kind of documents they were. Noticing her getup, he questioned, “Going somewhere?”

“Home.” Namjoo perked up. “I’m having lunch with one of mom’s friends.”

“Oh…” his tone seemed to drop.

“What?” Namjoo asked.

“You’ll be a while, huh?” Jongin asked.

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m taking a cab, gets there faster. I’ll be back soon. There’s a quiz tomorrow I can’t miss.”

For a few seconds Jongin remained in deep thoughts. When he looked at her again, he asked, “But you know what it means, don’t you? Meeting your mom’s friend.”

“Of course,” Namjoo beamed. “It’s good news, isn’t it?”

Trying a smile, Jongin said sounding more energetic, “Then, that’s good.” He went quiet again before saying, “I heard you had a date.”

The mention of it aroused a bout of shyness in her. Namjoo scoffed. “It wasn’t a date.”

Jongin eyed her full of doubt, but said no more.

“Why are you so quiet?” Namjoo was curious. “Are you failing a class?”

“Namjoo,” he sounded solemn, “isn’t there something else you want to do?”

Cocking her head, she asked, “What do you mean?”

“Something you want to do. Making your own choice.” Jongin said. “Is there anything?”

Namjoo looked away from him. Thinking. Her eyes grazed the clean-cut grass. Healthy green. The studded trees regaining their colors back now that it was spring. Back to him she shook her head. “I don’t know. I never really thought about it.”

Nodding, Jongin gestured to the road where a cab was waiting for her. “You should go.”

Glancing at the road, Namjoo turned back to him. Stepping away she called out, “Let’s talk some more when I get back.”

Holding a hand up to signal a wave Namjoo hurried into the cab. She was full of excitement. Everything was going so smooth for her. There was the dinner later with Sehun. She and Jongin would talk and she would apologize for being upset with him. They would make up and all would be the same again.

Focusing on the scenery Namjoo imagined the things that would happen in the days coming. Bright and shine.

She was even more elated when the manor came into sight. Giant iron bars opened making way for the cab. Namjoo listened to the driver loudly mull as he drove up the circular driveway to the dozen staircase that lead up to the double front doors. Thanking him Namjoo paid and climbed out of the vehicle that still hadn’t left even when she headed up the stairs.

Tall pine trees and wild bushes overran the vast yard. All things green pruned and maintained by a hired on-grounds person. Touching the golden knob Namjoo pushed the door open into a wide marbled corridor. The walls were barren but gleamed as if they were waxed daily.

The interior was stoic and quiet. Every room finely filled with items that designated its purpose. A grand piano for a musical room. Velvet love chairs for the sun rooms where sunlight shone the strongest through tall French paned windows. Sectional leather furniture for the lounge room. In there a wide television hung from the wall just above the majestic stone chimney. In between the furniture and the television, a dark polished coffee table made the room distinct. It was her father’s favorite place to unwind when he finished filming a drama. Namjoo often recalled a glass of two fingers of whiskey sitting on the table.

In the dining room a 20x30 family portrait sat high on the wall. A reputable family looking down on the bunch dining. Her mother loved it. Namjoo didn’t quite understand her mother’s taste, but she and her father both knew better after many years not to question her.

Right now, the rectangular table the length of twelve chairs was currently being filled with steaming hot food. Her father on a business trip would not be joining them today. Working on some medieval movie he was a thousand miles across the sea.

“Namjoo!” Her mother scurried forward. Dropping the napkins in her hand she rushed forward in her beautiful silk dress. She was modestly dressed up today for their guest of honor, the affiliate, some businesswoman in matching blouse and skirt.

Arm around her, Lee Bi led her forward. Standing up from where she was sitting, her mother introduced her to the affiliate. “This is Park Joomi. She’s a long-time friend of mine. Say hello.”

Namjoo bowed respectfully, greeting, “Hello.”

The woman prettily smiled. “Why, she’s very beautiful indeed. Very find. I can tell from the way she carried out Juliet how talented she is.”

Namjoo’s brows rose in question. Seeing, her mother explained, “The dean of your department sent us a film of the musical. I thought I should share it.”

“Oh…” Namjoo muttered. Since it had been a school private event, she had no clue.

“Come sit.” Her mother invited.

Taking the seat opposite Park Joomi Namjoo sat down. A housekeeper walked over to set down the last entrée for lunch.

“Namjoo,” her mother explained, “Park Joomi just opened up her own agency. How do you feel about joining her?” Still processing the abrupt offer, her mother carried right on, “I know we promised you would focus on college first, but it’s not important anymore. You don’t have to go back. Joomi just signed a deal for a movie and we’d like for you to star in it. This can be your debut we’ve always dreamed of.”

“Usually we prefer auditioning,” Park Joomi grabbed her attention, “but this is quite a special occasion, and being a long-time friend of your mother’s, I feel you would be the best exception.” She slid over a business card, “All you have to do today, is go back with me and sign a contract.”

***Maybe it comes with age, but imagine you've decided your dream already and it gets taken from you. Been through something like that before and the pain just stabs you ;; Poor Jongin