Begin: A Jungkook Story ✔

Chapter Two: Just Stay in your Seat

Jungkook was eight years old, and this year, sitting down seemed to be required like never before. It made him feel crazy like he could explode and he just couldn't stay in his seat, couldn't sit still like the other kids. He constantly wiggled his leg, wiggled his hands, played with his pencils and erasers inside his desk, building elaborate eraser castles inside his desk... And when he couldn't take it anymore, he would find a reason to wander, a piece of paper to throw away, a pencil to sharpen.

"Stop looking for excuses to get up, Jungkook, just stay in your seat," The teacher called to him from the front desk. Jungkook glared and walked back to his seat slowly. They were supposed to be reading a boring history passage. Jungkook had tried his best to read it. It was about the war.... He pulled out a sheet of drawing paper and started doodling an old villager... she worked in a rice fields, he drew the contours, smudging pencil to make the birms. In the field beyond, a South Korean soldier walked alongside an American one, he used the history book to put details on their fatigues....

"What is this, Jungkook-shi?" The teacher was standing by him suddenly, pulling the drawing out of his hand.

Jungkook sat sullenly, and finally answered: "A drawing."

"And is this art class, Jungkook-shi?" The teacher asked him in a sing-song voice. Jungkook's face flushed with shame as the class snickered.

Hot tears came to his eyes and he said nothing and kept his eyes glued to the desk.

"There will be a call home about this, Jungkook-shi!" said his teacher. Jungkook's belly dipped with shame. He hated him.

.............................................................................

When school was dismissed he found himself walking home the long way, not wanting to face his mother. He stopped at the small river that ran through the town, and threw rocks into it. He found himself thinking of his teacher and growing angrier. He hated him.

Finally, the families nearby called their children inside for dinner and he knew he had run out of time.

He pushed through his front door a few minutes later. "Jungkookah?" His Mom's voice was concerned, he realized, not upset.

"Ya, it's me, Mama." He called as he pulled off his shoes and hung up his backpack by the door.

She drew into the hall from the kitchen, wiping her hands on the apron she seemed to always wear. She came up, dropped to her knees to look at the small boy in the face, and after looking at him a minute, she pulled him into her arms in a tight hug. "I was worried about you, Jungkookah."

"I'm fine Mom, I was just playing by the river for a while." He said, but he couldn't help be glad that she didn't seem mad at him.

His Mom saw the look pass over his face.

"Yes, Mr. Choi did call us, Jungkookah..." she looked tender and hugged him again.

"Come have dinner, my son, and clear the worry from your mind. If you recall, I rather like your pictures," she said fondly. Jungkook's heart was soothed at these words, thinking of how his mother appreciated his art and drawing so much. He smiled and let himself be led into the kitchen for dinner.

He was grateful that his Mom did not bring it up in front of his hyung, or even his Dad, but waited until bedtime when Jungkook was quiet in his own room. His Mom came and sat down beside him.

"What's been going on in your class, Jungkookah? Usually your teachers love you." Jungkook's stomach swept with shame.

"Well I guess I'm getting too old for being a good artist or being good at games to matter very much," Jungkook said. His Mom sat quiet and listened.