Jaejoong loved his mom.

He loved everything about her. He could remember everything about her.

Her dusky eyelashes, as beautiful as a Spring meadow, fluttering ever so often whenever she was nervous and hiding her imperial, chocolate, and worn out, eyes. She originally had copper, silky hair that cascaded just below her elbows, brushing against them and shyly peeking out from her back, but she decided it was too bland a color and dyed it a handsome auburn. A smile almost always ghosted her sweet, bow lips, even if she was in a painful or sorrow state. She had a regal nose bridge and a delicate, button-like nose. When she was bathed in sunlight, her silhouette was just beautiful. She was like an angel. His physical outlook was probably inherited from her.

She was also a wonderful person. Her laugh was like the twinkling of a bell, a melodic sound that enchanted anyone who dared to listen to it. Her voice was sweet and kind, much like herself. She always stopped when she saw someone in need and did her best to make that person happier.

But one day, he realized that the mother he saw and loved was different. She had a different appearance, different interests, and different perspectives.

He didn’t know how it happened. It just did. And, as all people would, he came to the conclusion that she was a different person altogether.

He remembered asking his false mother who she was.

“Umma… Who are you?” At the time, he was still young and fresh, still vulnerable and exposed to the dangers of the world.

“Hmm? I’m your mother, silly.” Her tired eyes laughed, as did she.

He frowned. “No! My umma is pretty and different!”

He remembered seeing a flash of pain and sorrow flicker across her face.

“Joongie, come here.” She had reached her hand out to him, and he flinched, thinking she might hit him.

Instead, she picked him up and placed him on her lap, cradling him and his hair, murmuring words in his ear.

“Your umma left you for me to take care of.” She whispered, her eyes suddenly fogged up by a moist substance. “Why did you think I was not your real umma?”

He remembered panicking, afraid that he hurt her and immediately went to comforting her.

“It’s not that! I love you and always thought you were my real umma! But… I just have this memory... And my umma there was a different person…” He fiddled with his thumbs nervously.

She chuckled. “Yes, Joongie, your real umma is not me. But you’re too young for this, and when the time is right, I’ll tell you who she really is.”

He remembered trying to change the subject, although the words still lingered in the air.

“U-uh, umma, I really liked the breakfast today!” His chubby cheeks burned pink at his odd statement, especially since it had nothing to do with the matter at hand.

She smiled. “I did, too, Joongie, I did too.”

His small, little hands wrapped around her neck and he brought his tiny body close to her. His innocent, large eyes broke into a grin and mischievously, he leaned in and pecked her cheek.

He giggled. “Saranghaeyo, umma!” He sang, arcing his arms over his head to make a heart shape. “More than aaanyything in the world!”

He waddled around her, cheerful as ever, as if he didn’t just make the atmosphere tense.

He was still a toddler, though, and children don’t know the meaning of awkward.

He remembered everything as clear as ever.

He remembered growing up with all of his sisters, becoming more and more feminine with each passing day due to spending all of his time with females.

He remembered maturing and being embarrassed every time his family wrote, “I Love You,” on a little Post-It and sticking it on his lunch.

He remembered accomplishing his dream as a singer, now known as YoungWoon Jaejoong, or Hero Jaejoong, instead of Kim Jaejoong.

He remembered not being able to lead a normal life due to his sudden fame and recognition all over the world.

He remembered being tired, exhausted, and depressed when someone special called him in the middle of the night when she should have been asleep.

“Yeobsaeyeo?” He asked groggily.

“Joongie! I saw you on TV today. You were great!” She seemed so happy, so proud of her little boy.

He brightened up, all the weariness and stiffness leaving.

“Umma! You called! I missed you. Of course; I’m YoungWoon Jaejoong from DBSK, after all!”

She laughed. Her laughter was one thing that was similar to his biological mother’s. It was a sound that took all your worries away, leaving you washed away by harmony and peace.

Suddenly, he heard arguing in the background.

“I get to talk to him first!”

“No! I’m the youngest, I deserve it!”

“Well I’m the oldest! Respect the elderly, damn it!”

“HEY! Language!” She yelled at them.

“Mianhe.” They chorused, but started bickering just a few seconds after.

He chuckled. “Are you doing well?”

“I’m doing as well as a mother with 9 daughters can do. They’re all fussy and each one has different likes, as you know, so it’s hard keeping up with their requests and still have a fat wallet at the same time. The youngest likes boy clothes, the oldest likes cosmetics and jewelry and dresses, the middle-aged one likes video games, it’s all confusing.” She groaned. “But enough about me. Are you doing well, my dear?”

“Sort of. There has been trouble these days, since our leader, Yunho, was poisoned by a drink an anti-fan gave him.” He sighed.

Instantly, her tone became worried. He could see the forehead crease and the frown that graced her face, her scrunched eyebrows and wrinkles visible.

“That sweet, handsome Yunho you always talked about?” She asked.

“Yes.”

She gasped. “How could they? He’s such a nice boy, and even me, a judgmental person, loves him. Who would do such a thing?”

“I don’t know, but this has me worried. The rest of the group could be endangered, too, and everything is just so messed up right now.” He clenched his fists. “It’s frustrating how I can’t do anything to help it.”

He could see her smile gently and reassuringly. “Don’t you worry, Jaejoong. See the light in things and you’ll be in the light.”

Somehow, the voice changed into one of his sister’s.

“Hey, this is Ji Eun, and I’d just like to say hi, oppa! I missed you! Remember to bring presents the next time yo –“

“Yeon, here, hi, bye, miss – “

“Oppa! My unnies have been so evil lately. They’re always leaving the chores to me and – “

“We do not!”

“Yes you do!”

He listened to their conversation silently, a wave of nostalgia washing over him. He truly missed them, and it was then that he realized just how big of an impact they left in his life.

He had somehow gotten at least one of their traits. One of his sister’s aspirations was cooking. He learned how to cook well. Another’s OCD was being tidy; he learned to be the same. Yet another one’s was singing. She was the biggest influence. It was because of her he wished to become a singer.

He loved them as they were his own sisters and his mother as if she was his real mother, but he wanted to meet his biological mother one more time. He wanted to hug her petite frame one more time. He wanted to kiss her velvet cheek one more time. He wanted to say, I love you, one more time.

He remembered his shock when he finally, finally saw her. He recognized her through the crowd because she was just shining like a luminous star, as if Fate wanted him to see her.

He remembered trekking through the crowd of fans, rushing up to her and his heart pounding.

If she wasn’t his mother, oh my goodness, he would just faint then and there.

But if she really was…

He’d break down in tears.

He remembered taking the woman by her shoulders and taking a good look at her face.

It was her.

“Mom… Mom…” He sobbed, hugging her tightly.

She seemed to still be in shock, but within the next five minutes, broke out of it and hugged him just as tightly, the tears never stopping.

“Jaejoong… Oh, my beloved Jaejoong…” She whispered, burying her face in his chest. “Oh, how you’ve grown… You’re much bigger than the Jaejoong I remembered… You were such an adorable, loving child… I never regretted my decision because I can see you’ve stayed the same…”

All he could say was, “Mom…” repeatedly, as if he was afraid she’d disappear.

“I’m here, son… I’m here…”

After their tearful reunion, he had requested for the manager to let him have a few minutes of privacy. He led her to their van, where the rest of the members had been resting.

They all questioned her identity, but he ignored it all and told them to “Get out or you guys will have to eat take-out food for the next few months.”

They all complied with his request, scrambling out in fear of not tasting his delicious food for the time he had threatened.

She told him all about how she had been searching for months to meet him. She explained her reasoning for leaving him with her best friend, a few salty drops slipping here and there. She listened to his description of his upbringing with his ‘foster’ family. 

“I’m glad… If I had raised you up, you wouldn’t be where you are now…” They loved each other so, and cared for each other’s well being.

They exchanged phone numbers so they can call each other, but just a few months after their meeting, his number had changed and he was too busy to tell her about it.

He didn’t know that she had been calling him weekly ever since his number changed. He didn’t know she had been worried to death, her concerns decreasing a little whenever she saw him on stage on television. He didn’t know she almost fainted when she learned his leg had gotten injured.

He remembered not contacting her for almost a year, not even during the holidays for his schedule was always packed and whenever he had time for leisure, he was resting and sleeping.

He remembered completely forgetting about her, much to his guilt, when he was in the lawsuit with SM Entertainment and without Yunho or Changmin.

He remembered yearning for her comfort every time he felt lonely and empty without the two rambunctious friends by his side.

Nothing could replace his mother’s existence.

On this special Mother’s Day, he remembered the occasion and immediately thought of her. With shaky hands, he took the phone and dialed her number that was scrawled on a crumpled, crinkled piece of paper.

“Yeobsayeo?”

He was surprised because her voice had changed so much. He supposed it was due to worry about him, and lack of sleep because of the worries.

“Yeobsayeo?”

He smartly replied. There was a moment of silence before a single, silent cry was heard.

“Jaejoong… Oh my goodness, is this really you? Jaejoong-ah, are you doing well? I missed you…”

He interrupted her.

“I love you, Umma.”