Joon tried to shake off the migraine he knew was coming at him full-speed.  Even as he drowned out his tutor, he ear a roaring in his ears that signaled the onslaught of a nasty headache.

“Shall we stop here for today?” the tutor said, noticing Joon’s discomfort, “We’ve covered quite a bit of material already in the two weeks thus far so there’s no need to rush.”  She gave him a comforting smile as she put away her laser pointer.

“Thank you,” Joon said softly, closing his laptop and returning her smile with an apologetic one, “You always have so much patience with me.” 

“I can only imagine the pressure you’re under right now,” she said, her frowning face lined with age, “So young and under such a heavy spotlight… I’ll help you all that I can, Changsun-shi.” 

Joon blinked and mustered up a smile.  After three weeks of living at the estate and becoming Lee Changsun again, he was still not used to hearing others call him by his real name.  He wondered how long it would take, if ever, for him to really become Lee Changsun again.

“Thank you,” he replied, standing, “I will see you tomorrow than.”  Bowing, he made his way out into the hall and towards the elevators. 

Thankful that he didn’t run into any roaming employees, Joon quickly made his way out of the work building and into the bustling streets.  He tried to dismiss the paparazzi that were tailing him as he climbed into a waiting black car and quickly sped off.

Joon sighed as he loosened his tie and leaned back into his seat.  It was hard to believe what had happened in the past three weeks.  In a whirlwind of media attention, corporate politics, and tense conversations, the board of directors at Lee-Song Group decided that the best course of action at the moment was to give Joon time to catch up with the details of the Group activities.  After one or two years, they would discuss his eligibility for the CEO title.  In the meantime, Song Bangna would remain in her position and provide as much support as possible to help Joon integrate.  It all seemed too smooth be true and Joon couldn’t help but wonder what song Bangna might be planning next.

“You seem tired,” his driver said, concern in the young man’s voice, “Are you alright, sir?”

Joon looked forward at the driver and gave him a reassuring smile.  “Yes, um…?” he said, unsure of the driver’s name.  The driver seemed familiar but he couldn’t put a name to the face.

“Hakkun,” the driver said, giving Joon a handsome smile through the rear-view mirror, “Go Hakkun, sir.  I’m the main driver to and from the Lee-Song estate.” 

“Ah, yes,” Joon said as memories flooded his brain, “The driver from the amusement park, right?”  Hakkun had been present at the time of the amusement park kidnapping.  He’d been the one to drop off Soyun and Changwook at the park.  When things had gotten hairy with the kidnappers, Hakkun had been tending to Cheondoong while Joon and Soyun had chased the kidnappers.  Joon felt embarrassed as he gave the young man a sheepish smile.

“Yes,” Hakkun said cheerily, “I apologize for not recognizing you then.  That was a crazy day, wasn’t it sir?” 

“Yes it was,” Joon replied, remember that terrifying day, “Thank you for tending to my friend.  He might have been in serious danger if you hadn’t helped stem his bleeding.”

“I’m just glad I could help,” Hakkun said as they turned into the estate gates, “It’s a relief things turned out well.”  He pulled up in front of the doors and turned in his seat.  “I’m sure you already know this but I’m typically on stand-by the entire day unless I’m out chauffeuring.  Hwajangnim has her own designated driver so I’m primarily in charge of young master Changwook and yourself,” he said with a warm smile, “Please don’t hesitate to let me know whenever you need a driver.”

“I will, thank you,” Joon said, nodding before climbing out of the car. 

With a heavy sigh, he walked up to the front doors and pushed through them with a weighted heart.  As he entered, a maid bustled to his side and took his blazer jacket.  Mumbling a soft thank you, Joon shuffled into the kitchen and filled a glass of water.  Taking a painkiller from the medicine cabinet, he downed the glass of water in one go. 

The house was empty, as usual.  It was only three in the afternoon; Changwook was still at school and Soyun attending her university classes.  Song Bangna pretty much lived at the company so her absence was quite normal and appreciated.  The only other person who came and went was the maid who had promptly hung up his jacket and went about her cleaning business.  The walls seemed to echo with his footsteps as he climbed the stairs and made his way to his bedroom.  Taking off his tie, he tossed it onto the couch and collapsed onto the bed.  Closing his eyes, he let the exhaustion wash over him.

It had been three weeks of non-stop press conferences, etiquette lessons, and tutoring.  He barely had time to himself anymore.  Dinner usually consisted of Changwook, who would chatter incessantly about his day at school.  On the occasion that Soyun stayed for dinner, the two would bicker like Tom and Jerry before Soyun would give up and let Changwook win.  His weekends were packed too; etiquette lessons along with musical classes… it was enough to give Joon a migraine almost every day.

On the flip side, he was relieved that he barely had time to think.  It kept his loneliness at bay and suppressed his urge to run away and find Seungho.  Somehow, he had managed to put away his tears and lose himself in this foreign life that he was living in.  But occasionally, when he had time to stop and breathe, his desperation would return to the front of his mind and begin to suffocate him.

He wanted to see Seungho.  He wanted to see Dara; heck, even Cheondoong’s frowning face would do.  He wanted Hyunsik to slap him out of his misery and tell him to buck up.  He wanted to be at KTA, where Minah would give him counselling.  He wanted to be anywhere but here, alone, in this massive house with nothing but silence as company.  He could feel his eyes sting as his vision blurred with tears.  He missed Seungho’s voice.  He missed Seungho’s laugh, his touch, and his embrace.  He felt alone like a sailor lost at sea, or a child in a foreign country.  Everyone around him spoke a different language; stocks, profits, performance, inheritance, legality, and rightful places.  Everyone wanted him to remember himself as Lee Changsun; no one cared to find out what he had experienced as Joon.  If they knew the hardships he’d gone through… would they still treat him like a long-lost prince?  Would they still expect so much out of him? 

He wasn’t sure they would.  Their looks of expectation would stain with scorn.  Instead of handing him knowledge and power, they would pick at his remaining dignity and strip him of anything that could affiliate him to the powerful giant Lee-Song Group.  Perhaps it would be for the best if they did.  At least that way, he could return to the people who truly cared about him; the same people who didn’t talk about profits and inheritance, and rightful places… but of love, trust, and protection.

As Joon drifted off to sleep, his tears escaped from the confines of his lashes and slid down the side of his face.  Until he could return to his world, he would endure.  Because enduring… was the only thing he could do.

It was the first time he’d visited his mother’s grave since her heartbreaking death.  Six years... six years since her heart failed; six years since he’d found out the truth about his father; six years since he’d first thought of murdering the man who gave him life. 

She had been everything to him.  Her smiles, her laughter, her warm embrace; they had filled up the hole left by his father, who had spent his days at the office raising the company.  She’d never complained about her husband’s absence.  Instead, she made excuses and gave as much support as her small body could afford.

Until she found out about her husband’s illegal affairs.  She’d kept it bottled up inside; she did everything to protect her loved one.  She’d begged her husband, pleaded and even threatened him with divorce.  Even still, nothing could stop him.  Her health declined as her appetite ceased to exist.  She became a hollow shell of who she once was.

He’d watched his mother’s soul disintegrate over the years.  Slowly, she lost her sight from endless crying.  She lost her voice from her desperate pleading and, as the end approached, her heart finally shattered from its endless chips and cracks.  And then… he was left alone with his monster of a father. 

He grew up watching his father leave at night only to return at the wee hours of the morning.  The seed of hate sprouted and took deep root inside of is heart.  Many times he found himself standing over his father’s sleeping face with a knife clutched tightly in one hand and his mother’s diary in the other.  But he couldn’t do it; he had already lost a mother… he couldn’t lose a father.

Instead, he turned his adolescence to the young man who had destroyed his life.  If he couldn’t kill his father, he would kill the young man.  He would make the young man suffer for his seductive ways; it was only fitting for someone who had destroyed his life and taken everything that was precious to him.

He had almost succeeded.  He’d lured the young man to an abandoned warehouse.  He’d made the young man suffer in the worst way possible and, even if it wasn’t as long as he’d hoped to give, it had given him a bit of satisfaction… right?  He had gotten away with it; wasn’t that a signal from the heavens to approve of what he’d done?  It was revenge for taking away his mother so it was justified… right?

Now, as he knelt in front of his mother’s modest grave with her favourite pink roses, he wasn’t entirely sure.  He didn’t feel regret for what he’d done; he had no room in his heart for such feelings.  What he did feel, however, was confusion.  He thought he would feel… full.  He thought he would gain such satisfaction from watching the young man suffer that it would fill his hunger for revenge.  Instead, it only served as a reminder of his father’s monstrous sin and his mother’s desperate heartbreak. 

“Omma,” he said softly, “Are you doing well over there?”  He gave her a small smile and dusted off her tombstone.  “I’m… okay,” he said, “I’m surviving.  I know you probably don’t like it but I’m making good money off of my pills.”  His smile fell as he looked at her name carving.  “Dad is still… dad.  He’s stopped you know?” he said, “The ran away and dad buried himself with work at the company.  I made the little pay, though, so don’t you feel too sad, alright?”  He looked down at his fingers as he grabbed a handful of the soil atop her grave.  “I did the right thing, right?  He deserved it… right?” he murmured, “I wanted to kill dad but… you would cry if I did right?” 

He fell silent as he watched the soil slip through his fingers.  He took a deep breath and buried his murderous feelings in the ground with the soil.  He had gotten revenge, his father was suffering his own hell, and he was starting to save enough to move out.  Things had come to an end so he should move on… right?

“I’ll come see you again,” he said, standing and dusting off his jeans, “Until then, be happy… wherever you are.”  With a smile and wave, he walked back out towards the cemetery gates and hailed a cab.

The ride home was long; he hadn’t expected traffic to be this bad though he should’ve have known.  It was around the time everyone got off work so it was smack dab in the middle of rush hour.  Sighing with irritation, he pulled out a few bills and threw them at the driver before climbing out of the cab.  Walking would help get rid of the heaviness in his chest.  It always did.

After nearly an hour of walking, he finally turned the corner to his street.  As he approached his house, he raised an eyebrow at the black sedan parked outside.  His father would likely be home already and drinking a glass of scotch but his father certainly didn’t drive a black sedan.  Shrugging, he pushed open the gate and stepped inside of the house.

Even at the entrance, he could hear the soft murmurs of conversation floating down the hall from the living room.  He was never one to pry but his curiosity got the best of him.  Making his way down the hall, he paused outside the living room and listened.

“H… How did you-” he heard his father say before someone interrupted.

“Im Kyungran…” the man said, “You knew her didn’t you?”  Sounds of shuffling paper followed before a tense silence blanketed the room.

“How… how much?” he heard his father whisper, “How much do you want?”

He frowned as he listened.  What were they talking about?  From the sounds of it, the man was clearly here to blackmail his father.  Did this have anything to do with that little ?  Last he’d heard, the was actually the long-lost heir to a giant corporation.

“On the contrary, Jang Daeho-shi,” the man said with a cheery voice, “We’d like to pay you to keep things buried… if you know what I mean.”

“What?” his father asked, confusion clearly evident in his voice.

“Im Kyungran-shi told me quite a bit when I’d visited her.  It was shortly before her… er… untimely death.  She didn’t seem in her right mind but she did tell me a little about her arrangement with you and the boy she’d taken under her wing.  As you may have been following the news, he’s recently been discovered to be the lost son of Lee-Song Group’s late CEO.  To protect the company from dirty rumors, we would appreciate it if you kept things to yourself… you see?”

He blinked as he let the words sink in.  Whoever had paid them a visit, it was a representative from Lee-Song Group.  They were obviously trying to protect their golden reputation; the Group would come under fire from the public if their dirty secret was discovered.  Letting out a silent, bitter laugh, he leaned against the wall and shook his head.  He knew his father would agree to it; the man was both a monster and a scaredy-cat.

“I will of course,” he heard his father say, “It is not beneficial to my business either to have such news leaked.  Especially not now…”  He sighed.

“I heard,” the man said, “Jang Publishing is going through a tight spot at the moment, yes?  On the verge of bankruptcy I daresay?”

He felt his heart tighten as he listened.  Tight spot?  Bankruptcy?  Since when?  Hadn’t his father been working endlessly at the company to make it prosper?  Wasn’t that why he never came home to his pitiful wife?  How could the company go bankrupt? 

“A rough spot, yes,” his father said, his voice defensive.

“I would be happy to offer some financial support on behalf of Lee-Song,” the man said in a sly voice, “How much do you need?  We can accommodate up to seven figures if needed.”

He felt his anger burn at those words.  How hard had it been for his mother to save her money to support her husband’s newborn business?  How hard had it been for them to save up enough start a business to begin with?  How hard had his father worked to make things work that he didn’t come home for days at a time?  And here is a man who could so easily spit out seven figured cheques to further shame them. 

“That… That would certainly-” his father began but was interrupted again.

“Take your dirty money and get out of my house,” he hissed, throwing a dirty look at his father, “I don’t need you shaming what my mother worked so hard to build!”

“Hyunwoo!” his father said, eyes wide with surprise, “When did you-?  Don’t you dare speak like that to Dongmin-shi!”

“You shut the up,” Hyunwoo hissed, throwing a nearby cigarette tray at his father’s head, “Work your fat off at the company and make it prosper.  That’s the only way you can repay my mother for marrying a son of a like you!”

“This young man,” Dongmin said, standing with a frown, “Outrageous-”

Before the fat man could say another word, Hyunwoo walked over and took him by the collar.  The man yelped and protested but Hyunwoo’s grip was tight as he dragged him to the door.  “I don’t ever want to see your fat face in my house again,” he snarled, kicking Dongmin out to the curb, “If I do, you’ll have to get Lee-Song to pick up your chunky pieces in a pick-up truck, you fat pig.”  With that, he slammed the front door closed, seething as he whirled around to face his father.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” his father roared, taking him by the collar and giving him a shake, “He was going to give me the money to save my company-”

Hyunwoo swiftly landed a hard kick to his father’s groin and watched the man fall with satisfaction.  Taking his father’s hair, he lifted the man’s head up and snarled into the man’s face.  “Instead of shame money, why don’t you work at the company until you fall dead to your feet,” he spat, “And when you finally die, you can take your sorry to my mother and grovel at her feet for ever being her life.”

“I’ll kill you,” his father groaned, his face purple, “You son of a-”

“Go ahead,” Hyunwoo said, throwing his father aside, “Don’t forget… I’m your son.  Son of a ing heartless monster that let his wife die a pitiful death.” 

Turning on his heels, he stomped his way upstairs and slammed his bedroom door closed.  Sliding the bolt lock in place, he flopped down on his bed and stared at the ceiling, where he’d pasted a picture of his mother’s smile. 

He’d kill him one day, he promised himself.  Until then, he would accumulate as much money and power as he could with his young hands.

“I love you too.  Be safe…”

“Hyung?”

“I’ll come to you soon.”

“Hyung…?”

“Go.”

“Joonie-hyung!”

Joon jerked awake and looked up into large doe eyes as Changwook stared at him from the other side of the bed.  His vision was blurred; he wiped at his eyes to find them wet.  “Ah…” he muttered, his voice hoarse.

“Why are you crying?” Changwook asked, propping his head up with his elbows as he stared at Joon, “Do you miss your family?”  He blinked before rolling his eyes at himself.  “Sorry, pretend you didn’t hear that,” he muttered, “I’m your family.  Right.”  Sighing, he crawled onto the bed and sat next to Joon.  “So why are you crying in your sleep?” he asked.

Joon sat up and readjusted his shirt.  He wiped at his eyes and gave Changwook a small smile.  “I miss my important person,” he said softly, reaching over and putting his hand on Changwook’s head, “I had a dream about him and it was… kind of sad.”

Changwook looked down at his hands, his face fallen.  “I have those dreams too,” he murmured, “Most of the time, it’s about my mom.”

Joon sighed and relaxed his arm on Changwook’s small shoulders.  In the few weeks he’d been at the estate, Changwook had grown extremely attached to him.  Unlike his frosty mother, the boy was full of life.  Despite his sad state of home affairs, the boy stayed optimistic and sunny.  Joon wasn’t sure he would be able to if he were in Changwook’s place.  Coming to a cold and empty home every day after school when all the other kids went home to welcoming parents… it was sad to think about.  He chuckled at himself; he hadn’t had the best childhood either, he reminded himself.

“We’re similar,” Joon said, ruffling Changwook’s hair.  He was fond of the boy; he had felt that way since rescuing him from the park.  He wondered what life would have been like for the two of them if he hadn’t ever left.  Would they still have such an amicable relationship?  Or would they be locked in a battle for inheritance?

“Of course we are,” Changwook said, shrugging out of Joon’s arm and hopping to the floor, “We’re brothers right?”  He gave Joon a smile and held up a piece of paper.  “Look what I got today?” he asked, excitement in his voice.  He handed the paper to Joon and waited for a reaction apprehensively.

Curious, Joon took the paper and gave it a look.  He couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from him as he looked at the ‘100’ marked in red at the top of the page.  “Wow, a 100 marks?” he asked, smiling, “You’re smarter than you look.”

Changwook gave him a flat look.  “You mean I look smarter than I am,” he corrected, before pausing and scrunching up his face in confusion, “Wait… what?”

Joon chuckled and returned the test paper.  “Good job, Wook-ah,” he praised, “You can have my dessert tonight.”  He laughed as Changwook gave him a sneaky grin before hopping off into the hallway and down the stairs.

Joon sighed and looked at the bed sheets where his tears had stained.  He’d dreamt of Seungho again… of their last night together before he’d left.  He dreamt of their time together often and he usually woke up in tears.  He hadn’t meant to fall asleep; he was embarrassed that Changwook had caught him in such an embarrassing state.

Shaking his head, Joon was relieved to find the headache diminished and his mind clearer.  Getting up and stretching, he wandered down the hall towards the stairs.  Downstairs, he could hear Changwook chatting to the maid as she cooked them their dinner.  He smiled as he heard Changwook tell her to give him Joon’s dessert.  

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he turned to walk towards the kitchen when he paused and look down the corridor to the right of the stairs.  The corridor led to his father’s music room; it was the same room Seungho had played the piano for Song Bangna when she’d summoned him to the estate.  Joon had only ever been inside twice for his music lessons.  He’d sat in the same piano chair that Seungho had sat in and had placed his fingers over the same keys.

Suddenly longing to be at the piano, Joon made his way down the corridor and stopped outside of the music room.  Pushing his way inside, he walked over to the piano and sat down.  The black shimmered with spotlessness as he gazed at the cover of the beautiful black grand piano.  Gently, he lifted the cover and ran his fingers over the keys.

He remembered the night of the fundraiser vividly.  Seungho had walked up to a snow white grand piano and played a breathtaking piece.  Joon had fallen in love all over again at the sight and he remembered feeling completely swept away.  His fingers had glided over the keys effortlessly and, like magic, music danced through the air.  Joon pressed his fingers down on a key and listened to the soft tone.  It reminded him perfectly of Seungho’s gentleness and warmth.  Pressing harder, the harsher sound reminded him of Seungho’s fury and anger.  Even so, the sound was smooth and tugged at his heartstrings.

He could feel the beginnings of desperation again in his chest.  Swallowing the tightness in his throat, he covered the keys and walked over to the library of scores.  He brushed his fingers against the countless music sheets and smiled.  He wondered what kind of person his father was.  He was sure he knew before he’d lost his memory but now… he at least gained comfort in know that his father was a romanticist and revelled in music.  It seemed to soften the mighty image of his father as king to the Lee-Song throne.

His fingers pausing on a particularly worn looking book of scores, Joon pulled it out and opened it.  Lines and lines of bars filled the pages.  Chopin, Beethoven, Mozart… the notes themselves seemed to dance on the pages.  It was probably one of his father’s favourite books; the pages looked as if they’d been flipped through and played through many times.  With a smile, he made to put the score back when…

What was that behind the tightly stacked scores?  It was unnoticeable with the books all in their right places but, now that Joon was holding onto a book he’d just pulled out, he could clearly see something hidden behind the scores.  Curious, Joon removed a few more books to reveal what looked like just another score book.

Sighing in disappointment, he pulled out the book and looked at the cover.  It was marked with more Chopin and Liszt.  He thought he had finally come across something worthwhile and yet… He flipped open the book and looked through the content.

Instead of music bars and notes, the lines where covered with handwriting.  The writing was difficult to make out but every few pages, the writing would cut off with a new date.  The dates on the pages...

Joon’s breath hitched as his eyes widened and his heart raced.  He ran a finger over the date on the page he’d stopped at near the end of the book.  It read September 26^th… 2005!  That was nine years ago… the same year Jin had said his father had died.  With shaking hands, he tried to make out the faded writing on the page.

I realized too late.  Perhaps I always knew but I didn’t want to believe it.  She was so gentle and kind.  I couldn’t believe she would do this. 

Letting out a shaky breath, Joon continued to read.

Today the doctor informed me that my heart was failing.  I could go into cardiac arrest at any moment.  She did this.  She’s the first woman I’ve loved since losing my beloved Eunae.  Sadly, she’ll be the last.

Joon dropped the book as he stared at it with shock.  He could feel his world spinning as he steadied himself against the bookshelf.  He’d finally found what he’d been looking for.  He’d found the very thing he had come to the estate for.  It was the same thing that could help put Song Bangna in jail for good.

He had finally found his father’s journal.  

Author's notes:

Ooh one of my favourite chapters to write!  Finally, some insight into the crazy yet heartbreaking mind of Jang Hyunwoo!  We get at least a little bit of understanding as to what drove him to his crime.  And GASP, the almighty journal!  Just plugging things along as much as I can :)  Stay tuned for more!