1.1 | Desiderium ✓

50|fifty

HaRoo was eighteen, almost turning nineteen.

Some Congressman's wife had died, and his son had gone missing, and San HaRoo didn't give a fuck.

Because he was busy watching recorded videos of the Korea National Ballet, their junior troupes in specific. Apparently his father, Governor San Hyeok was talking in the next room in a very angry voice to a subordinate of his.

"He was a child! Even if it was his woman, I could understand, but his child? Moreover a son?"

Sitting in his room, his imported headphones on, HaRoo didn't give a fuck. He was too busy watching a girl dancing to the character of Clara, gracefully and ethereally.

"It was a mistake... wasn't it? Tell him it was a mistake..."

Hwang JiSoo, the elder daughter of the Hwangs, who had the largest law firm in all of Seoul, she was the Prima of the Ballet company. HaRoo wasn't the least bit interested in ballet. He didn't even understand what was going on.

The teenager was interested in debates and soccer, but not in dance. But thanks to the huge amounts of videos he had watched, he knew that the music was given by Tchaikovsky. Some Russian punk he couldn't care less about.

"Is that the only option?"

Just a month ago, he was urging his little brother to go on and make friends with the youngest son of the Hwangs, who didn't resemble JiSoo even in the slightest. Little MaRoo was oblivious, and silent as ever, while the teenage HaRoo was finding ways to run into his crush by some perfectly planned coincidences.

Aaah... our brothers are best friends. You know, we should be friends too!

Nope. Cringeworthy.

You know I have been watching all your performances. You look absolutely stunning!

All your performances? Creepy.

"Just make him disappear..."

"You worthless dog, do you think JeongSuk will discard his own son?" Governor yelled.

"Make him shut up with a higher position. It'll suffice."

Oh do shut the fuck up Father, thought HaRoo. He was tired of all the incessant rambling and the series of guests which came to his house, unfortunately the one he liked the most had recently died, so it was a shame.

She made good chocolate cakes.

And her kid was cute. Fat, but cute.

HaRoo grew up in a household where the idea of a woman, was to be nothing more than objects of beautification, mere showpieces to hang on their husbands' arms and just serve them.

Food in the day.

Sex at night.

Obviously, he wasn't allowed to have a girlfriend, so he didn't. But he had been watching a girl dance since the past four years and only six months ago, had he realised that it was a full bloomed crush. Borderline obsessive, to be honest.

If his timid mother was to enter his room with a tray of snacks in her hands, HaRoo would lie to her- just shut off his computer and lie with ease, that he was studying. His mother wasn't educated or so. And she feared his father's heavy hand.

HaRoo hated it, but at the same time, he couldn't care less.

"Then kill off that boy too."