note: an amaranth is a hardy flowering plant, its name takes root in the Greek for 'unfading'

*

Cheondoong sighed, staring at the TV screen with weary eyes. His teeth found his lower lip and absentmindedly scraped away at the plump skin. Thoughts plagued his mind; nonsense really, though his conscience sagged beneath the weight of his mind’s wandering.

The thought had bothered him for a while, snaking in and out of his brain as he went about his daily life but he had fought to keep it at bay. Now, however, with nothing to preoccupy him, he found himself with little other choice but to succumb to the ideas that had taken root in his head.
It wasn’t fair, he thought, that things were the way that they were. Of course, his appearance would never quite meet the standard of hers, nor would his talent. There was no competition and it was pointless, in his opinion, to try and alter this fact. It would only lead to failure.

Perhaps, if he hadn’t been so distracted by the thoughts tossing around in his head, he’d have noticed the door open and a petit figure wander through it. It was only when Dadoong bolted from his lap to greet the new comer that the spell of contemplation was broken. He glanced lazily over his shoulder to see his sister bouncing towards the sofa. She ruffled his hair and sat beside him, dropping with more grace than was expected.
This, he thought, only proved his point, so he frowned as he turned back to the television screen.
“What’s up kiddo?” Dara asked, leaning over to get a better look at his face, the sofa cushion sinking beneath the weight of her palm.
“Nothing.” He murmured turning his downcast face away from hers. His thoughts were stupid, he knew that, and he didn’t need to bother her with them.
“Come on, you can tell me!” She insisted, stretching so she could pinch the scarce surplus of fat in his cheeks between the pads of her fingers.
“A-Ah!” He exclaimed, shrugging his shoulder sharply so that her arm was pulled separate from his face. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.” Chuckling, he watched her playful expression sink into a frustrated scowl. No matter what thoughts he had, he couldn’t deny his love for his sister nor the fact that she made him laugh.
“No you’re not, but whatever. That’s cool.” Nonchalantly folding her arms, she watched him through the corner of her eye, anxious to see if her idea of reverse psychology had had any effect to note.
It hadn’t, as Cheondoong could see as clearly through her blatant façade as he could through an open door, but he took pity on her and rewarded her efforts.

“Okay, okay you win.” He laughed, though it was strained somewhat, and uncomfortable. This would be both embarrassing and awkward for the two of them, especially seeing as their careers were something of a taboo topic when at their parents’ home.
She stared expectantly.
“Well…” Sheepishly, he scratched at the back of his neck. There was no itch, it was just a subtle excuse to look down and avoid eye contact. “Basically, I was thinking about how much more successful you are… than me.” The last words came out as nothing more than a low, rolling mumble. In fact, he wondered if Dara had even understood any of it.
“Doongie, don’t be silly-“ Evidently she had heard, but Cheondoong found himself interrupting and gaining confidence.
“I’m not. You can’t deny that you do better than I do.” It was blunt, and he almost regretted his straightforwardness when Dara’s eyes clouded over and pointed downwards. Behind her thick eyelashes however, he could see she was thinking.
“Maybe that’s true.” She replied, completely monotonous, clearly she was running through what to say and how to prevent the situation from dissolving.
“But we only get to promote, what, once a year?” She asked breezily, forcing his gaze to meet her own with a well masked determination.
“Well, yeah, but you always win first place.” With his head on one side, he tried to reason his point across, while wondering what exactly it was that his sister was trying to say. He didn’t have to wait long, however, as she launched into an explanation.  
“Exactly.” She began with a gentle shake of her head. Hair caught on the curve of her lip, but with the flick of her wrist it was removed. “Other than for that brief period, we’re irrelevant to anyone other than Blackjacks.”
Cheondoong stared at her, shocked by her words, regardless of how much sense they made.
“But you guys are always there, always promoting. Even if you don’t win, you always have attention and love. It doesn’t matter if they’re in your fanclub or not because they still see you.”
He was speechless. He never expected something so profound, something that made so much sense, to come from her at such a relaxed time like this. Just a joke, or an encouraging word – that was all he had anticipated.
“It all depends on your definition of successful.” She shrugged, getting up off the sofa with a quick stretch of her shoulders.
“Anyway, come on, dinner’s ready.”
And with that, she bounded away as quickly as she had appeared, leaving Cheondoong with no choice but to follow her, more preoccupied with the food for thought she had given him than the food prepared and laid out on the table.

"But thou art immortal and dost never fade, but bloomest for ever in renewed youth."