CHAPTER 12
HE DEFINITELY KNOWS
Kim Mansion (Taehyung’s Parent’s Home), DaeguFELIX
He climbed up the mansion's grand staircase, his eyes roaming around while the maids were careful as they brought his luggage and bags in. He arrived safe and early at his father's childhood home in Daegu this morning, and he would be staying here until the end of the holiday break.
He remembered having too many fond memories in his grandparents' estate when he was young. He would play hide and seek with his grandfather or with the maids in the mornings, then after so long a time of searching and hiding, he would hear his grandmother call his name as another maid carried a tray of his favourite desserts just for him. Sometimes, he would tag along with them in the afternoons when they went to visit their farm. He would also watch his grandmother bake pastries for him and for their workers when he was too lazy to go outside on rainy days.
He also remembered one afternoon, when Felix was just around four or five and curious, getting inside one of the rooms inside the mansion with its door left ajar. He swore he had never entered that particular room before as it was always locked, forbidden to anyone not authorized to enter.
The young Felix peeked inside, suddenly excited when he saw his Daddy inside the room. He was busy staring at a painting he only had a glimpse of. His Daddy had not noticed him yet, which made him giggle before he called out for him.
But he was suddenly frightened.
He was only met with his Daddy's angry eyes --- as if he hated him so much.
"Get out!" his Daddy yelled at him furiously. His face was red. "Why are you here!?! Get out!!!"
Felix, out of fear, cried out loud. He wondered what he did wrong for his Daddy to be mad at him. His Daddy had never raised his voice at him like that. Ever. Minutes later, his Appa came in and picked him up, hugging and comforting him in his arms and words. He was also reminded of his parents fighting for the first time in front of him, voices so loud, angry, and piercing throughout the room until his grandfather came in and intervened between them, while his grandmother led him and his Appa outside of the room. Felix stared at the painting his Daddy was looking at until the door slammed shut behind them. He could still remember it echoing inside his head up to this day.
That same night, his Dad apologized to him. His younger self easily forgave his father just like that. He loved his father after all, but since then, he was scared to enter or pass by that room. He never wanted his father to look at him with so much hatred ever again.
Later, he would come to know it was his Dad's old art studio.
Going back to the present, he entered his father's childhood bedroom. Nothing had changed, really. Everything was still in order. But he was not here to reminisce or check.
He had another agenda in mind.
He went straight into his walk-in closet, walking over to the obsidian wardrobe on the left corner. He carefully opened it, revealing his father's vintage sweaters, coats and suits from his teenage years all hung neatly inside.
Yet those were not what he was after.
He scooted around and reached his hand out at the bottom corner of the cabinet, feeling his way through the vintage clothing until his hand grasped something hard and rectangular. He grabbed it and took it out --- a wooden jewelry box in his hand. Surprisingly, it was not locked. He opened the lid, and as he had expected, inside the box was the key he had been looking for.
It was the key to his father's old art studio.
***
Felix's hands trembled --- cold.
He inserted the duplicate key to the keyhole.
He heard a soft click.
He exhaled in relief, successfully unlocking the damned room. He got inside. He was afraid his father or somebody else would appear out of nowhere and catch him red-handed as he turned on the lights, but he was desperate to confirm this thing for himself.
It had been thirteen years or so since the first and the last time he was here, so he was not sure whether or not everything was still in its place or what. His eyes and feet wandered quietly into the center of the wide room, careful not to touch anything.His eyes widened as he surveyed his father's paintings.
He went numb.
He was right.
"What the fuck."
Portraits upon portraits of the man he once saw at their home surrounds him --- the same man which his Appa cursed almost every night when he caught him drinking himself to sleep.
Kim Seokjin.
Kim Hyunjin's Appa.
Felix scanned the oil canvases one by one. He let out a shaky breath as he walked further to the corners of the room, but he couldn’t find even one portrait of his Appa in here.
His Dad loved his Appa.
He was supposed to have portraits of him, right?
He was his husband.
Don't be naive, Felix. You know very well what's going on. You're not a fool. You know about their constant fights -- how your father subtly flinches every time your Appa is trying to be sweet in front of you or everyone.
He scoffed, tears building up in his eyes as he glared at the paintings which were looking back at him with taunt and malice. He knelt down onto the carpeted floor as his silent cries progressed into loud sobs.
There was pain and resentment pitting inside of him.
The first time he saw Hyunjin at the university, he had never felt so jealous in his entire life. He looked like the younger version of his Dad --- their similarities were uncanny. He got more and more envious of him because of how he was becoming more like his father than he actually was.
But his Dad would never cheat on his Appa, right?
This was just pure coincidence.
Felix didn't know anymore.
Fuck. I don't know what to think or to believe in anymore, but I can't have anyone else other than me as my father's son. If my suspicions are true-- no--
Shall I make Hyunjin disappear?
He cried his bitter heart out.
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To Love A Kim. © JT Starr, 2022.
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To Love A Kim
FanfictionFourteen years ago, although a Kim himself, Seokjin swore the surname to hell and back and forth. He swore Kim Taehyung. He swore his ill-rotten wealthy family and the people behind his despairs. Seokjin abhores them to death. Oh, how he wishes he h...