chapter I

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The kickoff of a ten part saga:   Part I,  in which truths are lies, lies are truths, and morals become beautiful nightmares. _________________________________________________________________________________   It started with tears.               Lee Sungjong was born with a head full of stark black hair.  He was also born with his eyes open, which he took to great pride.  Not many babies were born with open eyes, after all.  That mentioned, Sungjong, shortly after being born, began wailing to the high heavens.  To his parents, this meant two things: One, Sungjong can breathe! And two, he'll grow up to be introverted and observatant as opposed to extroverted and carefree.  His parents weren't superstitious; it was simply speculation (and perhaps the over-excited parents' want to know what their child will grow up to be).             Watching these series of events was a two-year-old boy named Dongwoo.  He bounced impatiently in a nurse's arms thinking, why?, probably one of the only things a two year can clearly comprehend.  Why was he here?  Why was he being held by a stranger?  Why did his mom sound like what she does when she pulls one of those extra tough weeds?  Why did his dad's face look so twisted?  And most prominently why did a baby just appear from nowhere?             His dad took the thing into his arms, and Dongwoo pouted.  He urged the nurse to bring him closer.  Soon enough, he was close enough to see the new baby.  As he stared at the small wrinkled face, something alighted in his mind.  Was this the new brother his parents had been talking about?            If it was his brother, then he should love it, right?  So he leaned in to see the baby looking him straight in the eye.  He smiled.   He opened his mouth to speak, maybe to say, 'Hello!' to his new playmate, and instead received a great big screech; ten seconds later, it was resolute that didn't seem to have an end.  Dongwoo buried his head into the nurse's shoulder, and he heard his parents laugh.  Why?  The noise was unpleasant at best, and to his sensitive ears, it sounded like a room filled with uncoordinated violin players.  And Dongwoo sure knew what that sounded like after being introduced to a young people's orchestra at his older cousin's concert.  Needless to say, he and his parents were out of there before the first piece ended with an aired excuse to his aunt.            Soon enough, after his father stuffed the baby's face with a pacifier, he learned that its name was Sungjong.  The Sungjong that had been the subject of nonstop discussion for the last two months.  The Sungjong that he'd helped to name.  Oh yes.  Now that the baby had a name, Dongwoo looked at it differently.  Differently with a bright smile, differently with shining eyes.              And that is how Lee Sungjong grew up.  He grew up with a big brother he's always known as Dong-Hyung, never Dongwoo, never hyung.  Dong-Hyung.  His parents' Korean culture bled into him as he aged, and the habits he acquired back then never faded, even when they moved from their small, cramped apartment to a modest American city.  Sungjong grew up with Dong-Hyung always giving him the last bite, and memories of Dong-Hyung teaching him how to bike.  If Sungjong were to be honest, he would say Dongwoo treated him more like a little sister than a little brother.  Perhaps Dongwoo just wasn't your typical big brother.            And perhaps Sungjong just wasn't your typical little brother.  Sungjong remembered how he'd always be on a sweet, and if not, had enough spares in his pockets (he always had pockets).  He remembered scrambling away from the summer cicadas and crying when he happened upon a small squished body on the sidewalk.  It was also that first cicada summer that Sungjong met Krystal in the courtyard of their apartment buildings during a small family picnic.             Sungjong was five, and looking forward to going to elementary school for the first time (because Dong-Hyung was going to be there too).  Krystal, just four back then, completely dominated Sungjong in everything they did together, including that first time they met (a staring contest where Sungjong quickly came flustered).  Apparently, his mother went to college with Krystal's, so like good friends' children, they got along.  Needless to say, the two stuck like two Oreo cookies, their family bond pulling them together.              The pinnacle of their friendship could be defined by one day at the amusement park.  The cicadas buzzed again, this time with less ferocity, four years after Sungjong's first cicada summer.  With the sun beating down on them, Krystal decided it to be a good idea to drag Sungjong to a particularly tall ride  to relieve the heat.  Sungjong did not have the urge to be at the will of a machine.  Specifically, this one.  Being tossed around without any sense of control didn't strike him as something of enjoyment.            "Krystal, going that high will only get us closer to the sun,"  whined Sungjong as he rubbed his wrist where several red marks lingered.  Krystal combed her fingers through her hair and tied the strands into a high ponytail with one of the many hair ties looped on her wrist.            "Sungjong, that isn't the point.  The point is the height, the wind, the thrill.  That's the point.  Right?"  she replied.  Sungjong's eyebrow lowered.  The way she said that didn't leave room for argument.  Krystal never left room for argument. His stomach turned as the line shortened, and only a few meters stood between them and the shadow of the ride.  Shade would be nice.  Being under the ride wouldn't.  "Want one?"  Krystal asked, holding out her wrist.  Sungjong shook his head, arms fixed around his stomach.  "Oh come on. Your hair is too long to be down right now," she insisted.  His eyes narrowed.  Sweat dotted the base of his neck and the underside of his bangs.  No way was she going to get him to put his hair up.            "Krystal, just stop trying now.  It's been four summers, and you've never seen my hair up.  Neither will you ever."  Sungjong paused.  "Hey, that rhymed."            Krystal eyed the line.  She just needed to keep Sun