Tae Shin is a simple boy with simple dreams, who likes to hide his half-forgotten past into the shadows of his low self-esteem. Kim JaeHwan is a sole heir to a gigantic multi-billion conglomerate, who likes to reminisce the ghosts of his happy child...
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Back in the locker rooms, all sorts of gossip was taking round that the invincible duo of the RBH Martial Arts Club had fallen apart because of some girl, and the Elistars had broken into parts. All of which only made JaeHwan surge into a lower depth of miserable rage. He wound his hands with kumpur wraps tight enough for him to not feel the circulation in his fingers.
JungWon used to do it for him before every match, and JaeHwan smiled at that memory. One by one, he was losing people. By his own fault, no one else's, but that still hurt.
"Best of luck," said MaRoo, after handing him a water bottle and giving him a pat on his shoulder. JaeHwan had his black belt tied around his waist, but the lack of energy subsequent from the lack of sleep was wavering his spirit. He had to fight in at least eight matches before he got to the finals. And only when he won all eight.
"I'd be in the front row. And the Principal's watching too, so don't lose," MaRoo said, meaning to say it as a confidence booster. "SeokWoo's here though."
"So?" JaeHwan raised his eyebrow, fighting the feeling of tremendous dissatisfaction weighing down each of his facial muscle. When it would all end and he would be back in his empty apartment, staring at his toneless books and waiting for his phone to ring— while his heart would pound and pound and pound until his blood ran dry and he was a soulless machine.
Why did Shin show him such a beautiful heaven when his reality lay on the unimaginative dirt?
"Just saying," said MaRoo, "both his eyes are black. Looks like a panda. You should see."
JaeHwan hummed in response, and got up from his seat. He stretched his arms above his head a few times and grabbed his gloves and headgear, before walking over to his coach who fastened his chest guard on him and said his customary prayer when one of his students had a match.
JaeHwan had his head held down once in a silence, right before he walked out in the deafening cheers of the court. In the long line of Head Boys before him, none of which he remembered did Taekwondo. Most were in soccer, one was a sculler in the rowing team and a few played baduk. Hence, none of them were as popular as JaeHwan was, despite not being so handsome.
It was as if he was at the centre, and a part of him hoped Shin was somewhere in those faceless crowds, hoped that he would cheer him on with his smile and his gentle laugh.
The way his blue eyes would sparkle every time he turned around and looked at him, made his chest constrict in the most painful of ways; like his soul kept on bleeding and bleeding, crimson violet and pale rose. Shin's presence was null, and JaeHwan could feel it.
Not long after did the qualifiers begin, and JaeHwan was pitted up against perhaps an eleventh grader, but he didn't care to see the name of the school behind his uniform. He went for roundhouse kicks right from the beginning, and knocked out his opponent in both the rounds.
