Youngjae’s entire life was about panic. It was a tough life, especially when he had to play a game of hunt or be hunted. The only problem was, he was both the target and the predator. He was wandering around a large museum, filled with exhibits where children can interactively play with, simultaneously searching for his son and avoiding his wife.

             It wasn’t his fault, he swears. He just looked away for one second. One second and the little rascal got away. If Youngjae knew having a child would be such hard work, he would have just refrained. He walked around the exhibit, calling, “Youngsuk! Youngsuk!” But he made sure to lower his voice in case his beloved wife came over and heard him.

            It wasn’t that she would kill him, maybe she would, but her glares when angered could really kill. If look could kill, they say. And her looks certainly could. So, he had to find his son before she finds either of them.

            “Youngsuk!” he hissed as he went through the roller coaster demonstration. The other children didn’t turn around as they continued to follow the cars’ track around the loops. Youngjae’s vision blurred and he walked back out to get his bearings. He had searched three exhibits already and the little boy wearing bright yellow was nowhere to be found.

            Times like these, Youngjae wished he had used a leash to keep the boy on hold. He made a mental note to invest in that because that was important for future escapades. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the familiar teal skirt his wife was wearing and ducked out of the way. He walked through another hallway and saw the airplanes exhibit.

            Bingo. Youngsuk liked airplanes. Youngjae walked in and walked through the first airplane, searching among the rows of seats and through the cockpit but didn’t see his son. He asked some passing mothers and they all shook their heads. A little boy wearing yellow was quite common.

            Youngjae cursed to himself and continued walking through the exhibits. He used his senses to hear where a bunch of children were laughing. He walked through a pair of curtains and saw a long line for a simulation pilot training. He walked back and forth through the line but didn’t see the boy. Where could Youngsuk be?
            As he was exiting, he saw a large crowd gathered outside another entrance and slipped in. He pushed past people as politely as he could and stage-whispered Youngsuk’s name. A boy turned around once but of course, it was too good to really be his son. After apologizing for the mistake, he continued to look in the crowd.

            He circled back to the original displays where he had lost his son and saw his wife standing among other mothers in front of a giant sphere. He had to avoid that place because if his wife saw him without the little boy, his head would be rolling. Youngjae tiptoed past her and went the opposite direction. Maybe Youngsuk wanted to look at aliens. Yes, that could be it. After all, he grew up with the knowledge that he was the son of an alien.

            Youngjae walked in and immediately creepy space music began to play. He put on the special glasses that the guards handed out. The exhibit was dark and so he would sometimes reach out to what looked like a boy in yellow, turn the poor soul around, and find that the child was not his. Youngjae was getting desperate. It was getting closer and closer to the designated meeting time and if he dared to show up without Youngsuk…

            He let out a heavy sigh and continued to search. He walked in and out of different exhibits and finally decided, as the clock ticked closer that he was officially screwed. He might as well be a man and face it. He was going to be minced meat anyway.

            There was one last floor that he hadn’t checked and so Youngjae walked up the stairs, careful as always to avoid his wife. Any last chance he could have, he was going to grasp. The top floor was a special on dinosaurs and there were robotic dinosaurs roaming around the hallways. He tried to stop a couple of the people who were guarding the displays and ask if they saw Youngsuk but nobody had.

            And so, it was with a heavy heart, Youngjae prepared to walk to the information center and have them make an announcement. He placed his head in his hands and wondered how he could have possibly lost a six year old. All he did was look away for a moment and then the boy was gone. There was a tingling of fear that maybe he was kidnapped but Youngjae didn’t want to think about the bad before he had to.

            “Going somewhere?” He jerked his head up and saw the lovely face of the woman he married in front of him.

            Youngjae smiled sheepishly. “Uh, I actually have something to tell you. Don’t get mad?”

            She crossed her arms and an eyebrow rose slowly. “It’s bad news,” she stated it so matter-of-factly that he gulped.

            “Y-yes, but it can be resolved.” He was desperately stalling time.

            “What? Could it be that you’re looking for something?”

            “Someone, actually.” He swallowed. Her eyebrows were becoming more and more active.

            “Our son maybe?” There was a trill end to her question.

            Youngjae nodded and she burst into laughter. He stared at her in confusion. He had just admitted to losing their son and she was laughing? Was she mad? Did she lose her mind? “Hold on, lady. Are you sure you’re in your right mind?”

            Immediately, she glared at me. “You lost our son and you have the gall to ask me if I’m crazy?!”

            He clamped his mouth shut and smiled meekly at her. “No, ma’am.”

            She nodded her chin at the giant sphere she had been standing in front of for the past half hour. “He’s in there.” Youngjae sighed in reliefbut it was short-lived. “You’re still going to get it at home. How dare you even think of losing our son? How dare you even make that an issue you would have to deal with?” And the abuse continued.

keke ♥ enjoy

I realized I have a thing for giving Youngjae a hard time. I'm sorry, not sorry