Lee Jinki shoved his hands in the deep pockets of his sweater as he trudged down the park's paved road, trying to block out the residual sounds of the argument that he had just had with his mother. He couldn't recall a time when he had ever felt so misunderstood, depressed and utterly alone. With a pang to his heart, he heard the sounds of children laughing as they played, young teenagers showing off the tricks that they could do on their skateboards and clips of conversation between a few jogging adults about how glad they were that they could finally take some time off of work to enjoy the summer. The presence of so many happy, carefree people, singing birds and the warmly shining sun was like a box of table salt being poured on a scraped knee, for Jinki. Normally, he would have felt unified with the displays of joy all around him, laughing inwardly with the children as he recalled the games he'd played as a child, smiling at the youth as he recognized the stage of growth between childhood and adulthood that he himself had just completed and agreeing whole-heartedly with the jogging women as he, too, felt the burden of high school finally lift off of his shoulders.

But today, he couldn't have felt more alienated from the relaxed atmosphere. Every part of his body felt tense, his stomach twisted with anxiety and he was barely able to fight back the hot tears threatening to fall at any minute. Even Mother Nature seemed to have shunned him as she couldn't even provide a gloomy back drop for him to stew in his misery.

Miraculously managing to keep composed until he found a quiet and isolated part of the park, Jinki finally sat down beneath a large tree, bringing his knees up to his chest and let his rigid mask drop. He knew that it sounded childish, but he couldn't help but think that things just weren't fair.

There were many things that he was supposed to be doing that summer. He had been planning everything out since October of the now finished school year. Being academically focused, he had signed himself up for a pre-university math course in order to get ahead when he went to post-secondary the following year. That wasn't one of the highlights of his summer, exactly, but he was sure that he could find the motivation to study hard and he was hoping that if he took the course, he'd get better marks in university and make his parents proud of him.

Something he was happy to do was volunteering at various events and locations. He volunteered regularly in summer at a local senior's home and he was glad to be able to see all of his older friends that he'd made over the previous years. His mother had always told him that it was something to write on his future resumes, but whether it was or not, Jinki enjoyed his volunteer work, that also included helping out with an annual Shakespeare convention in downtown Seoul.

The hallmark of his summer, however, had been to take singing lessons and perform in small venues. Since November, he had been corresponding with the local music school, arranging lessons, and applying for small performances. A local café looking for summer entertainment, had invited him to audition earlier on in June and he had been ecstatic when he'd been asked to perform again in early September, right before he began university. Singing meant everything to Jinki and having advanced this far with his passion was a milestone for the young man, for various reasons. Since he was a little boy, he had always been fascinated with the stage and when he was in elementary school, he had decided to become a singer when he grew up. His mother had never approved, however. He could still remember that, when he was thirteen, she had found out that he wanted to sing as a career and she had told him that if he chose such an occupation, he needn't ever again call himself her son.

Although the words stung, Jinki now understood that she didn't want him to become famous and have to compromise his privacy and become an object for the public eye. Still, the way that she had tried to drive this point home was a little overdone, as she'd threatened him with disownment (even though his father had never had a problem with his son's dream) and had even told him that it was a sin to be using singing to get famous.

Fame and fortune had never been Jinki's motivation, although, he would admit, having some spare cash would be nice, but as an innocent and naive barely-thirteen years old young boy, he had actually started to believe her. He'd spent a fair bit of his teens sorting through the various threats that he had received early on in his life and had finally realized that wanting to become a singer wasn't an evil thing. Singing professionally was no longer his primary career goal, but he was making career choices accordingly to ensure that he would have enough free time and financial resources to continue singing after he'd graduated from university. 

Despite his epiphany, Jinki had to admit that his mother's threats, especially with the use of religion, did have a lingering effect on him. In fact, those dark thoughts from youth were currently niggling at him in his current despair. 

Almost as if it had been planned, Jinki had begun to lose his voice a few days before his first singing lesson was scheduled to take place. He didn't have a fever or any other symptoms, so he wasn't too bothered by the situation. He'd ended up cancelling his first lesson, thinking little of it, looking forward instead, for the next. He had lost his voice a few odd times before, for seemingly no reason, and it always got better.

His voice hadn't improved by the next lesson, however, and it had now been three weeks since he'd last been able to sing properly and wake up without a sore throat. It was becoming a growing possibility that he might have to cancel his plans for music and this left him extremely disappointed, anxious that his voice might not get better and also, quite unsettled as his mother's threats from five years ago began to pick at him again.

What if making him lose his voice was God's way of preventing him from pursuing his dreams of singing? What if his mother had been right all along?

The thought hurt, seeing as Jinki had prayed and poured out his heart to the god that he felt was in his life to make everything work out and to make his mother more open-minded to his love of singing. When he had finally got up the courage to tell her that he was planning on taking singing lessons and she was actually okay with it, Jinki was sure that there was a good and great higher power, somewhere. He was on cloud nine, and when July rolled around, he was euphoric.

Only to have all of his hopes completely crushed.

The more than likely loss of his "cream of the crop" dream for that summer marked a steep, downwards slope for the rest of his two months of vacation. The math course was getting harder and, despite his willingness to work hard, it was hard to stay focused when his mind was occupied with worry as he wondered how much longer it was until his voice would go back to normal. He felt really guilty when he worked with some of the senior citizens who were hard of hearing, as he couldn't speak very loud, at all. And as for the Shakespeare stint, well, the festival was normally an event where he could feel inspired to write his own music, being amongst other avid artists. He couldn't bring himself to write music if he couldn't even perform it. His usual source of comfort, music, wasn't even really available to him at the moment, as he felt sad to hear his favorite songs while a fleeting, perhaps needlessly paranoid but still worrying, thought crossed his mind that he might not ever be able to sing again.  

All the anxiety regarding his voice was only the internal burden that he'd had to carry for the past three weeks. Adding to it all was the harsh accusations that his mother had just thrown at him, minutes ago.

She'd accused him of not communicating with his father, a catalyst that had really cracked his emotional dams.

Jinki's father was a prominent business man, who was frequently at work more than he was at home. This in itself never bothered Jinki; he understood that his father worked hard to support his family, and father and son had always shared a healthy relationship. Only, as he grew older, Jinki began to take note of how his father never really talked to his mother. It wasn't that his parents had a rocky relationship, or anything of the sort, but Jinki was sometimes a little put off by the fact that his friends' parents seemed to be quite a bit more affectionate toward each other than his father was to his mother. A lack of public affection didn't bother him; he knew that for some people, intimacy was preferred to be kept a private thing (and he sure preferred his parents not getting all mushy in front of him), but he didn't know why his father couldn't just speak to his mother. She'd often have conversations with him that seemed as if she was talking to himself.

Jinki figured that his father was probably exhausted after a long day at work, but he was really irritated by his father's seeming lack of consideration for his wife's feelings. Even though she was sometimes harsh in criticism toward him, Jinki still loved his mother very much. In fact, he loved both of his parents, but he was just so frustrated by their relationship dynamics, or lack thereof, that he sometimes felt like moving out, being free of the constant pressure to be stereotypically successful and to no longer have to pain himself with trying to understand his parents' odd relationship. Marriage wasn't really a top thought for Jinki- he wasn't even sure if he wanted to get married- but if he did, he was pretty sure that he wouldn't marry a man or woman that he would promptly ignore.

The young man sighed as he played with the green grass beneath him. His mother's words still burned in his memory.

"You hardly talk with your father!...You'll never be successful...!"

A single tear trailed down Jinki's cheek. During his mother's torrent of words, he'd remained silent, partially because he physically couldn't really speak, partially because he didn't want to say anything hurtful but mostly because he wasn't sure how to tell her that he didn't know how to speak to someone who couldn't even speak to her and because he didn't know how to explain to her that the day she had decided to threaten him as a means of warning him about the pitfalls of the entertainment industry, instead of simply explaining with just plain words was the day that a little part of him would always be afraid to share his deepest thoughts with her.

The constant criticism that she bombarded him with, was emotionally exhausting and sometimes, his more mature-self was simply too tired of trying to reason that he was who he was and that he should be proud of being the only Lee Jinki in the world. The scared, sad and discouraged thirteen year old was left to take the force of the verbal tirade, and it was this very side of Jinki that was sitting under the tree, about to cry. Yes, a part of him reasoned, his situation was no where near as bad as someone suffering from terminal illness, or unsure of when their next meal would be, but troubles were still troubles.

Pessimistically wondering if there was something wrong with him for taking things so seriously, for not having much of a social life and for being unable to disregard his parents' faults, Jinki started crying softly, at first, then he began full out sobbing. Thoughts of a father who could not communicate with his wife, of a mother who went to church every Sunday where it was taught to see the goodness in others, but who came home only to say to her son that he was selfish and insensitive when he made a conscious effort to continue the conversations that her husband blatantly ignored and of a possible God who was pitted against the one thing that brought him joy crushed the young man's shoulders. He was eighteen; old enough to understand the workings of the worl, old enough to put on a brave face, but not old enough to be unaffected by frustration and desperation. No one was ever really old enough to not feel trapped at times.

Trembling with sobs, Jinki mentally began to pray. He wasn't one who really felt it necessary to go to church in order to be connected to God and at the moment, he wasn't really sure if there even was one. Still, he quietly asked if he could at least have a friend  who could listen to him, unbiased. He had a few good friends, but none in whom he could truly confide. He had made it through thirteen years of school without once ever showing anyone this "weak" side of him.

When it became obvious that a person wasn't exactly going to drop down from the sky, sent from the heavens to listen to all of Jinki's problems, he cried harder. He had known that things didn't work that way, but it would be nice to just have someone there, to hold him, to be there for him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" A voice suddeny aded the quiet environment.

Jinki sniffed, looking up, immediately feeling idiotic. A young man, probably only a few years younger than him, was standing a few feet away, looking concerned. Harshly, he began to berate himself. Once again, he was proving himself to be emotionally weak, as his mother had always told him that he was.

Scouring his eyes with his sleeve, Jinki made to get up.

"I-I'm sorry...I'll j-just go," he began, but the young man stopped him.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked, conversationally, in a cheerful tone.

Jinki shook his head, glad that the stranger had been kind enough not to make a comment about his voice.

"I'm Changmin, by the way," the man said, giving Jinki a warm smile.

"Jinki," the distraight boy answered, feeling his sadness momentarily dissipate at the radiance of Changmin's smile.

"So...mind telling me why you were crying?" Changmin inquired, his tone suggesting that he truly wanted to be a source of comfort.

Jinki hesitated, but something about Changmin-perhaps his cheerful smile or warm aura-assured him that he could trust him.

And so, for the first time, Jinki confided absolutely everything that was on his mind to someone else.

By the time he had finished, he was feeling light-headed and he had started to cry again. But somehow, it really felt good to take the weight of having to bear everything alone off of his shoulders. Half-expecting Changmin to offer a generic and insincere statement of understanding, or even to laugh at him for being so immature, Jinki was surprised when a strong arm was wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him toward a warm body.

"Hey now, don't cry," Changmin hugged Jinki. "It'll be okay."

Jinki looked up with tear-filled eyes.

"You don't think I'm being ridiculous?" He asked, tentatively.

"Of course not," Changmin said, genuinely.

Relieved at having shared his worries with someone who was actually taking him seriously and still feeling emotional, Jinki threw his arms around Changmin's neck and sobbed against his shoulder. It was liberating to be able to cry in a situation where someone wasn't yelling at him.

Changmin rubbed Jinki's back soothingly until he calmed down, then laid a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Jinki, I'm sorry that I can't make your problems go away, but I promise that I'll always be there to at least make your tears go away," Changmin squeezed the younger's hand, holding him close.

"Thank you," Jinki whispered, leaning into the warm embrace offered to him.

Relaxing against his new-found rock, Jinki looked up at the sky, smiling a little. Maybe the sunny, blue and hopeful sky wasn't too out of place, after all.

 

Note:

Thank you for reading this story. The situation with Jinki's voice and his parents is based on my current life-situation, and it was really therapeutic to write about this :)

A little more character development...

Jinki's mum isn't supposed to come across being really mean and abrasive. She's just the "typical Asian parent" that has tough love for her children and that sometimes, this form of parenting can have both positive and negative effects on the child, as they grow older.

Jinki's dad also isn't an abusive type of character. He's the kind of CEO type character who's so caught up with work that he forgets that his family's needs extends a bit more than just being financially stable. Jinki is frustrated with him for not talking much to his mum because he sees how much this hurts her. He is also angry with his mom because she always defends her husband, even when he is hurting her, emotionally with his indifference.

And about Changmin's appearance... DON'T ACTUALLY TALK TO STRANGERS!!! ^_^ heheh   Changmin is supposed to represent the "answer" to Jinki's prayer to have a friend who will listen to him, or the concept that no matter how dire the situation, one should always hope and find something positive to hold on to, whether it be the comfort of a close friend, solace in religion, or simply the hope that tomorrow might be a better day. I'm leaving his relationship with Jinki as it is in the story and how it might develop in the future open to interpretation.

And again, if anyone feels offended by the way I've worked religion into the story, please leave a comment and I'll be happy to modify the various passages accordingly. :)

Wow. That was long.

Hope I haven't bored everyone to death!! ^_^'

x Angela

 P.S: I have no idea if there is such a thing as a Shakespeare convention in Seoul. ^-^