Update 1/3

#79 – Silence

Kim Kibum paced in the small room that he had been gifted by the organizing committee to prepare himself.

He poured himself a glass of water from a waiting pitcher and downed it in one gulp before pouring himself another and leaning up against the wall, clutching the glass like a lifeline. 

This was usually Taemin’s thing.  Taemin was the “gay warrior” as some magazines had sarcastically referred to the college student.  Taemin was the one who could unabashedly stare down a room full of reporters and somehow look innocent through it all.  Taemin was the one who could speak his mind but not sound like he was talking down to anyone at the same time.  Kibum was just his supportive partner. 

But Taemin was off in America right now, diligently working on his studies, and so now Kibum was the one being asked to speak before the Republic of Korea’s National Assembly.

There was civil rights legislation trying to work its way through a heavily divided legislature and as a prominent member of the gay community, Kibum was being asked to speak. 

He really wished it was Taemin.  He honestly hated himself a bit for having that thought, but Taemin was better with his words.  He would be able to stay calm when questioning turned against him and explain his ideas and views without blowing his top.

Kibum was practically ready to blow already.  Just imagining some of the things that the politicians might say were causing his hackles to rise.  His emotions flopped quickly and he knew that his words easily become barbed in the course of discussion, especially when he was faced with ignorance, which is the basis of the entire argument against homouality in the first place. 

Kibum didn’t respond well to things that he thought were stupid, pointless or ignorant.

This panel, he already knew, could classify as all three. 

Kibum sighed and put the glass down as an aide walked into the room.

It was time.

Kibum walked into the committee session and was momentarily blinded by the flashing of cameras from the members of the press who were there to cover the story.  It was the first time that a major figure in the gay rights movement was speaking before committee, though Kibum knew he wasn’t the figure that most activists had wanted to see.  He wasn’t vocal enough for them.  He didn’t show the same indignation that they felt.  That wasn’t to say he didn’t feel it, he just didn’t broadcast it to the world.  He had been in this struggle for too long.  To scream and cry and rail against the machine like they wanted would just be exhausting.  And he had a life to live.  He had a lover to cherish, family to assuage, friends to laugh with, and a job to do.  He didn’t need to be a warrior for them. 

They wanted Key, the Diva who always got his way. 

Instead they got Kibum, the man who just wanted to live his life. 

That’s not to say he didn’t get his way – it’s just that the things that he wanted were a lot closer to home these days.  Right now, he just wanted Taemin’s hand.  He wanted to hold that warm appendage within his; he wanted to lace his fingers in between Taemin’s.  And in a few months he would get that. 

That would have annoyed Key, but it suited Kibum just as well. 

He’d lived enough of his life being what everyone wanted him to be, and now he was quite happy being just Kibum.

As he followed the aide down the narrow pathway that seemed to stretch out before him, Kibum felt more nervous than at any other point in his life.  His skin felt feverish as he slipped into the indicated seat, the lone chair at a long dark wood table with a sadly drooping microphone waiting just in front of him. 

“For the record, please state you name and occupation.” A bored sounding voice drifted down from the raised dais that held the committee members.

Coughing to clear his throat, Kibum pulled the mic a little closer and leaned down, “My name is Kim Kibum and I work in a clothing design company.” 

“Mr. Kim,” a different voice said, one with something of an edge present to it.  The former idol looked up and recognized the man who was now speaking.  He was a very vocal dissenter against anything resembling equality for gay people.  Kibum bit the inside of his lip and pinched his legs under the table, trying to focus his attention anywhere else than on the little terror of a man.  “How long have you identified yourself as ‘homoual?’?”

The way he said it made the word seem dirty, as though he was going to catch something merely from the word passing his lips and Kibum had to force himself not to sneer. 

“I’ve been dating my boyfriend for eight years.”  Kibum explained as calmly as he was able.

The man raised his eyebrow, “That’s not what I said,” he began with the air of someone speaking to a small child, “I asked how long you’ve thought yourself to be homoual.”

Kibum sighed, if he hadn’t already said otherwise in interviews he would have just agreed to the term, but if he was even 99% accurate with this man, he would be railed for that one percent. 

“I’ve said this publically before so you can examine the record yourself on this point for more clarification, but I do not classify myself as homoual.  Nor am I heteroual or biual.  I love Taemin, if he were a woman, I would still love him.  Gender means nothing in this respect.”

The assemblymen gave Kibum a disbelieving stare over the top of his glasses before grunting and allowing another to begin their questions. 

He hated this.  He hated having to make a show of his relationship.  Others didn’t have to do this, didn’t have to literally make a case before the entire country, to just be allowed to live without fear of death or injury from some stranger merely because of their relationship.

As the interrogation went on, and he would call it that because seemed as though he was being accused of something horrible despite having done nothing wrong, Kibum knew that nothing would come of this legislation.

Before a vote would ever be had on this bill it would have to make it out of this committee first, and he knew that was not going to happen.  The vast majority of the old men who manned this committee were stuck in their ways and were not going to want society to change.  The bill was going to die an unceremonious death in this committee.  Oh, they would come up with some bull excuse as to why the legislation never cleared, but everyone would know the real reason.

This whole hearing was a show.  Something to put on so that they can say that they have been working on the issue, when all they want is for it to go away.  It’s a little dog and pony show to drag before the cameras and appease any constituents that might be in favor of the legislation while at the same time telling their fellow cronies that nothing would really happen.

Because they didn’t think that gays were worthy of protection.  They thought that gay people were somehow lesser than everyone else, because they aren’t “normal,” though Kibum would like to see someone come up with a definition of normal. 

These men might even endorse things like what happened to Taemin behind closed doors.  They might say the same hurtful things to their friends about homouals that Jonghyun used to say before he was made to actually think about the issue. 

But then Jonghyun always gave people like them hope.  Hope that their views can change, it is possible and the light at the end of the tunnel is growing a little brighter each time someone sees the truth instead of the propaganda and lies. 

But these men weren’t as strong and faithful as Jonghyun.  They wouldn’t let anything change their opinion on the matter, because in their minds, they were in the right.  He could see the hate in their eyes, though they would never say anything out loud, and certainly not in front of all of these cameras, but they didn’t have to and Kibum knew without them having to utter a word.

For all that Koreans like to say that there was no homouality in Korea before the West came - that was dead wrong.  It had been there, like it was in all societies, they just gave it a different name. 

Men would proposition other men in bath houses and the like, and then go right on home to their wives and children when they were done – a big open secret that no one talked about, because in the end they did go home.  They married a woman and had children and raised those children.  As long as they did their duty to society, and were quiet about their extracurricular activities, no one really made too much of a deal about their eccentricities. 

Many cultures have a similar history of homoual behavior.  Plato had even argued that love between two men was the highest form of love, more pure and perfect that love between a man and a woman. 

It wasn’t like all of this was an invention of the 20^th Century, but the need of people to live their lives outside of the shadows, to not have to be afraid of the feelings that came naturally to them – that was.

Which he pointed out to the committee.

“This is not some new invention of our times.  It is not something that has been brought to us by the influx of foreigners.  This has always been there.  It’s just not something that we are willing to be quiet about anymore.”

Kibum gulped some water while another politician tried to talk Kibum down.

“I don’t even know why we’re discussing this.” The man said off handedly when he realized that Kibum wasn’t really listening.

Kibum thunked the glass down hard against the table.

“We’re discussing it because the silence is the worst part about all of this.” Kibum knew that he was going beyond what his temper would take, but he had to say it.  Just this and then he would leave and be done with this farce of a hearing.  “If no one talks about it, and no one is willing to go out on that limb, then nothing changes.  What faces gay people in this country is a constant cycle of culturally imposed silence and quietly endorsed hate.”

Kibum bored his eyes in the offending assemblyman and leaned close to the mic to make sure that everyone in the room caught his next words.

“It’s very simple, and this will be the last I have to say on this subject.” His eye raked the panel and he spoke softly, but surely, making sure each word was heard before moving on to the next with great intent and deliberation.

“Silence perpetuates hate.  Break the silence, and you kill the hate.”

No one spoke.  The silence now being deafening as Kibum leaned back from the mic, his eyes still fixated on the row of lawmakers who didn’t seem to know what to do with him now.

Finally one of them cleared their throat, “Thank you Mr. Kim, that will be all.”

Kibum stood, giving the panel a light bow as he buttoned is suit jacket before turning and walking down the aisle that he had entered by.  Flashes again went off and reporters shouted questions to him, but Kibum used his anger to drive him out now, just needing to get to the door. 

After a few minutes of dodging around reporters and other people who seemed to want to talk, Kibum sank gratefully into his car in the parking garage, no one around at present to try and get him to say anything else. 

He reached into his pocket for his phone, turning it back on as he had turned it off before the hearing began.  He could give them that much respect at least - respecting their position and the office that they hold even if he could not respect the men themselves. 

He had many missed calls and messages, from his family and friends and workmates, liking wishing him luck or wanting to know how it all went. 

And one from Taemin.

A simple voicemail. 

“I love you.”

I don’t know why, but after I had already finished this and was going back to do some minor editing, I suddenly had the urge to include that discussion on the Key/Kibum dichotomy.  I’m not sure if it entirely explained the thoughts in my head, but it’s close and you can get the general idea.  He both is Key and isn’t Key.  He can call on Key when needed – but the thing is, he doesn’t need Key.