Greetings future offspring,

                                         this morning I woke up to a text from your mother, saying that she’d love to see me come over for dinner later and that she’d beat my sorry if I didn’t turn up. Kyung said that I should get her a gift to show her and her mother my appreciation for inviting me over. 

“You should get perfume, them chicks love that kind of .” he said.

Till now, I haven’t told anyone about Eri. All they know is, I have someone in my contacts under the name “The Mother Of My Children”, and it drives all of them insane because I don’t intend on telling them who it is. Kyung and Taeil hyung were the only ones to accept my reason for keeping it a secret and move on. The rest, not so much. Let me warn you kids that you’ll have some really weird uncles, don’t be startled. I bought perfume for Eri and flowers for her mother, I didn’t know what to get her father so I bought wine. Real classy, I know. Your father’s that kind of guy. Yukwon told me to go earlier so I could at least help with the cooking, it’s the least I could do if I wanted to be the son in law of the household. I laughed, telling him that it would make me seem over-eager but I went and did it anyway. 

Your mother’s house was an hour and a half train ride away and I wasn’t bored for one second. Since I snuck out of the dorms without my manager or my boss’ permission, I took public transport on my own. It wasn’t peak hour, when the train would be full and cramped, I was okay. Sitting alone with flowers, perfume and wine in my hands, I felt like a man going to ask for a household’s only daughter’s hand in marriage. Maybe I should just propose now, save myself a lot of time. I kept thinking about her secret boyfriend too. I wondered if I could get some answers today, since she seemed slightly comfortable with me these days. And she trusts me, right?  I remembered how I made her feel the last time we met, when she told me that I should go. I needed to apologise for that.

 I arrived at the train station I needed to alight at and heard the click of a camera. I felt every hair on my body stand as I looked around behind my sunglasses and face mask for the culprit. 

I locked eyes with a middle school student that was sitting in a corner. She seemed harmless, holding up her camera as she looks at me with terrified eyes. I decided to let that slide, thinking about how harmless she is. What can a middle school student do anyway?

I read your mother’s directions that she sent me via texts and wondered how she spelled the words she sent me since she’s dyslexic. I made it a point to ask her that the moment I saw her. I followed the directions she gave all the way to a big house with a big gate that had greenery entwined with it’s bars. The house seemed quaint and simple for such a huge building and I noticed that it perfectly represented your mother. Humble though she’s probably the smartest person in the entire continent. As I was ringing the doorbell, I pictured living with your mother in a house like that. We’d play video games and scream loudly at each other, not caring that our neighbours might complain. We’d have dinner on a mat on our front porch, watching the stars glint and the moon gleam. We’d discuss the fairness and equality of humanity before we shut our eyes to go to dream land in each other’s arms. And of course, I picture you guys, running around our big house, playing, laughing, crying, everything. Just bringing happiness to our family no matter what you guys do, I can’t wait to meet you guys. 

The gates open and I walk in, pulling my mask down as I took my sunglasses off. Your grandmother greeted me, first taking the gifts I brought from me, telling me I was thoughtful for a . I looked around for your mother and your grandmother noticed, she told me that your mother was upstairs in her room. She started going through the things I brought and held your mother’s gift up. 

“Is this for my daughter?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Is it perfume?” she quirked an eyebrow up.

I nodded again.

“Oh, Eriko hates these kind of things. She calls it ‘trying too hard’.” 

I pictured killing Kyung in my head countless of times, “Them chicks love that kind of .”. My bloody . Her mother told me to head on up to greet your mother. She warned me not to do anything R21 even though I was already 21. This family, I already know that it would be fun raising kids in this family, I can already picture it. I hear the notes to a beautiful song as I went up the steps, I know this song. The intro was improvised and it sounded beautiful, I followed the music and opened the door that was blocking it from my view. Your mother sat alone, playing softly and quietly as the breeze blew through her opened french windows. Her room was plain, white and filled with fresh flowers. Her beautiful hair was down and she was using a long sleeved cashmere sweater with black tights. Her feet were covered with cute polka dot socks. I know this song, I should sing along. 

“Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry

You don't know how lovely you are

I had to find you, tell you I need you

Tell you I set you apart…”

She turns to look at me while she played as she smiled, showing that she was happy to see me. I wondered if she knew I meant those lyrics I sang. She continued singing from where I left off and I fell deeper and deeper in love. Her voice was mesmerisingly clear but shy, strong but quiet. Her voice suited this song very well.

“Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions

Oh, let's go back to the start

Running in circles, coming up tails

Heads on a science apart…”

I sit next to her as she concluded the song with a few more improvised keys. She lays a cloth over her piano then turns to look at me, her fingers reaching out to my knuckles, brushing over them gingerly, barely touching me. I feel my heart race, as she traced my fingers lightly, she seemed amused by the wrinkles on them. She really doesn’t know how lovely she is, I watched her, being so interested in the creases on my palms and smiled to myself. If I could, I would’ve married her right there and right then. People keep telling me that I have to change my perfectionist ways since there’s nothing perfect in this world. But here, in front of me, the epitome of perfection was being mesmerised by the curves and crinkles on my palm. How did God create such an amazing person, and this person is for me, I just know it. This person was made for me. 

“You came,” she said softly.

I realised her shyness whenever she first sees me, is she really happy to see me? She stops touching my hands and looks up to smile at me.

“I’m sorry about the other time, you don’t know anything about me and I reacted that way. I must’ve scared you, I’m sorry.” she says and I grab her hands, holding them in mine.

“I am the one who should be sorry. it was none of my business and not my place to say those things.”

“I want to know you better, I want you to know me better. I just want that very much. ‘Tell me your secrets, ask me your questions.’  I want that.”

“I want that too, I want to know you better too.”

I was over the moon but I had to suppress my feelings in order to seem cool. She looks at her hands that were in mine and smiles softly, almost apologetically and I wondered what was she thinking about. She pulls her hands away gently while looking at me with a beautiful smile on her face. “Where do we start?” she asked with a tough voice.

“Hmm, you’re dyslexic but you can text?” I asked.

“Voice automated,” she flips out her handphone from her back pocket and holds it to . “Woo Jiho, you’re really normal without makeup and I like that a lot.”

She pressed something then five seconds later my phone beeped and it was a text from her. I looked at her message then at her and smiled. She really is something.

“You think I look better without makeup?” I asked.

She shook her head no, “I think you look normal. And I like normal.”

“So you don’t like handsome men.”

“I like men who are easy on the eyes, not so gorgeous that I’m blinded, no. I just like guys who look normal, and normal is handsome enough for me.”

I wonder how her boyfriend looks like, I smiled at her, thanking her for not calling me ugly.

“There’s no one ugly, everyone’s good-looking. It’s just those blindingly gorgeous ones that make us feel inferior.” her wise words find their way into my heart.

It’s hard to believe she’s still a teenager. She spoke as if she’s been through everything, actually, I’m sure she’s been through a lot more than girls her age. I look at her with respect, she’s amazing, your mother is amazing. She places her phone on her piano and sighs while smiling at me. I wonder what’s on her mind. What sort of worries she carries on her shoulders, what sort of feelings she experiences in her day to day life, what sort of person she thinks she is. Because I know your mother can’t see herself the way I do. She can’t see that she’s beautiful and amazing and everything brilliant, she can’t see that about herself. And that’s what makes me want to love her and cherish her even more. She tied up her hair in a bun and tucked the stray strands behind her ears as she rubbed her temples. 

“Your turn.” I said.

She looked up at me with wide eyes, like she didn’t understand what I was saying as she raised her eyebrows. 

“Ask me.” I continued.

“Oh,” she scratches her nape softly before wincing in pain, she must’ve forgotten the scars there. “Why did you become an idol when you clearly are more comfortable in the underground with your friends and freedom?”

Damn, she sounded like a reporter. But nonetheless, a spot on question coming from her, I was expecting well structured questions like these