Lee Jinki. A chicken lover and a senior at Gwangmyeong High school. But most of all, Mr Nice Guy. The boys at school saw him as a pal. The girls saw him as a shoulder to cry on.  He was a liked man overall, just not boyfriend material. Girl after girl he crushed on, yet his heart was the one left crushed when these same girls flocked into his arms, cheeks stained in tears over their last man boy. He, being the “nice guy”, didn’t dare to jump his chance onto the brokenhearted. Thus there his life spun on, like thread on a spinning wheel.

Just like that the seasons changed, and when Summer came about the student body became a hive of busy bees: trying out dresses, getting fitted for tuxedos and picking out corsages. It was prom season. Jinki didn’t expect a miracle but he was hopeful.

Last year he earned some money through tutoring some freshman girl, however his student’s older sister turned out to be the subject of the y = mx + c equation he relentlessly taught the younger sibling. To be frank, she became his y. She, who we shall simply address as Y, became the apple of his eyes. Y was known to be cold and honestly she wasn’t even his type, but as he frequented her house often, her covertly warm behavior, usually only enacted towards her sister, extended towards him too. Soon with the returning gift of his kindness back to her, the ice queen’s heart melted. Or so he thought.

Jinki was slowly building up the courage to ask his dream girl out to the night of their life. He had high hopes. She had rejected every offer presented to her, so it was natural she must have been waiting for his call. But something held him back from diving right in - his father. He would surely find out about the whole commotion. Especially since prom was going to be held on payday. Jinki had been raised by the man for as long as he could remember, yet a certain paternal affection was lacking. No emotional connection between man and son. Their relationship was more than strained. There could only be one reason for it all: alcohol. The liquor clouded his father’s mind day and night. There was absolutely no way getting through to him. Unless you count hauling his drunkard body upstairs to the bedroom. Only for those few minutes would the two exchange a few mumbled words to the other. And most of the conversation consisted of the deadbeat dad shouting curses at the son. Nevertheless Jinki kept his radar low, accepting  his father’s ignorant abusive slurs. At least it was better than when he was younger.

He couldn’t work then and that made him a sitting duck in the small cramped apartment. He would be his father’s regular punching bag, an object on which he released his frustrations. He resented the fact that they were penniless, through his addiction of gambling nonetheless; the fact there was no food on the table when he was home; and by the fact his loving wife had taken her own life.The bruises have healed, but the memories are inscribed clear in his mind. Jinki’s continuous school and work schedule allowed him to forget for 16 hours. Until he came home at least. For the majority, his father left him alone for all days of the working month but one. Payday = Let's drink until I pass out. In the beginning, he was devious as to snatch all of Jinki's monthly earnings. However, bills needed paying and they still needed to eat. Jinki eventually began spreading out his wages, lucky enough his bosses allowed him to receive payment in more frequent intervals. Despite his hard work at several different part time jobs, he couldn’t afford enough money to rent a tuxedo let alone buy one. The double life he lived shamed him to the core, but he couldn’t slip up, he couldn’t show his other side.

So as much as he wanted to take Y to the prom he was hesitant. That was until his kind boss at the newspaper supplier lent him his son’s old tux. He couldn’t express his happiness in no other way but as to slap on an overjoyed grin for three days straight after receiving that suit. The big night arrived and his butterflies were urging to emerge; he felt sick for some reason. This can’t be the time. Not now. He stomached the pain and headed to the venue.

Y was supposed to be waiting for him. She said she’d be there at the centre of the ballroom, decked in the sparkling crystals of her draping gown. The thing is, Jinki saw her there, at the very centre of the ballroom, decked in her sparkling crystals, but in the arms of another. Not a second had passed from when he had first pushed open the heavy hall doors then Y waved at him excitedly. But she wasn’t planning to move anywhere, not towards him after the song ended nor towards him ever. He realised his mistake. He would never be the one.

In a hurried rush he fled home. Not even thinking about what would be waiting there. The monster that lurked behind the doors leapt towards him, intoxicated with an overbearing stench of whisky. Bottle armed in one hand, his father lunged at him as he entered the household.

The rest was black.