Fused harmony

6.

January 25th 2023

"So... (y/n) is it? I'm a therapist hired by Mr Park to do a review on your mental wellbeing. We'll be going over anything you deem necessary to give you the best care possible okay?"

(y/n) just nodded. He never understood how therapy was supposed to help. In his eyes, it was just a person who was paid to care about what happened to you, they look bad if something does happen so they invest their whole self into fixing you and take it personally when it doesn't work.

"Let's start with getting to know your history."

The therapist clasped her hands together, waiting intently yet with patience as the young man pondered.

"I guess when my dad left is when it all started to spiral..."

9 years ago

A young boy around 10 years old, could be seen at the park with his dad, his hair covered in dirt from playing football and climbing anything his feet and scratched hands could grip onto.

The pair were seen for hours, kicking the ball back and forth rhythmically as if a conversation was taking place in between them, the kicks of the father. Hard, meaningful, almost angry. Compared to the kicks of the son. Soft, precise and content. They continued like this for hours, as if they were drilling in the feeling of the ball at their feet.

"Still not feeling like pursuing football is for you kiddo?"

The boy gave a cheeky grin as he chipped the ball back towards his dad.

"Nah, if I did it for a job... I'd never have time to play with you anymore right?"

He said, sweetly as if trying to convince his dad to buy him a new toy, but this was met with nothing but a stern expression and a slight grunt before his dad continued.

"But you could be famous. You could have thousands of people chanting your name. And you could retire me and your mother. You want to support us right?"

The boy tilted his head in confusion.

"Why would I want people cheering for me? I only need you a mum and I can make money with music!"

He smiled even wider.

"NO!"

The boy jumped back in shock. The sudden noise causing him to cover his ears as his eyes widened.

"(y/n) listen. Music isn't for people like us. Give up whilst you still can. Pursue sports, like a real man, you want to make me proud right?"

The boy had tears welling up in his eyes as his father spoke.

"B-but... music makes me happy..."

Hearing this, (y/n)'s dad kicked the ball as hard as he could, causing it to land on the opposite side of the field. The young boy, naive as any child, chased as fast as he could. Picking it up to carry it back to his dad, only to see.

He was alone...

He looked around frantically, with no sign of his dad anywhere he began to panic. His hands clasped over his ears as everything around him got louder and louder until he couldn't stand, tears spilling from his eyes as his chest heaved air out faster than he could take it in.
He wanted to scream, shout so someone, anyone could help him, but no sound could escape his lips.

Eventually, the police were called and the boy was taken to the station. His face empty of anything, save for the red streaks his tears left on his cheeks.
He sat silently, staring into space with wide eyes as he waited for his mother to come collect him. And that she did, running in frantically and breaking down as she saw him, pulling him as close as she could. She spoke, but the words sounded like they were underwater. Everything sounded like it was drowning. But instinctively, he gripped onto her, tighter than he'd ever held anything, as if she'd disappear if he let her go, if he took his eyes off her for a second.

After signing some paperwork, and being given a lollipop, the mother and son left, neither willing to let the other stray far, always within reach.

For 2 years, (y/n) couldn't sleep alone, but gradually with the use of weighted plushies and blankets he was able to gain some of the independence back. By the time he was 13 his new "step-dad" had married his mother, even though they were together since (y/n) was 9, after his half brother was born, they stopped getting along so (y/n) stayed out for as long as he could, mixed with the wrong crowd. His brother knew no better, and (y/n) didn't blame him for anything, the actions of his alcoholic step-dad weren't his.

But after one beating, the marriage crashed and burned. She loved the man but no one would hurt her children. Not again. And so, after a messy divorce, and a split custody agreement for his brother. (y/n) was free. Well, kind of... the crowd he mixed with was... a bad influence.

Back to the present

"I see... is there anything further we should know?"

(y/n) continued to explain the incident from when he was 14, the beating he gave, and the one he received. Where he was after the event and how it affects him now. He felt naked... vulnerable. He had never laid everything out on the table like this, but doing so lifted a weight off of his shoulders. He listened to the woman drone on as she took notes she could hand to Mr Park to arrange suitable support. And before long, he was free to go. Well free to go to Mr Parks office to arrange housing. But not before a quick lunch.

Heading down to the canteen, the familiar feeling of eyes glued to his back, he was actually able to ignore them this time, kind of. Still unsure of how to speak Korean, yet slightly better off than last time...

"T-Tteokbokki please..."

The lady at the counter smiled, aware of his inability to speak her native tongue, and providing him with his food. He thanked her with a slight rose tint, embarrassed at his poor pronunciation before sitting down and eating his food eagerly, savouring the taste.

After eating his lunch alone, since Rachel was finally busy with her actual job, he headed back to Mr Parks office, as per his request.
His shoulders slumped and worry evident on his face as he knocked, waiting to be let in. Before long the door opened and his employer gestured for him to sit down. A solemn expression painted across his face.

"I read the file. There is certainly a lot to unpack.. but"

(y/n)'s heart was in his throat, as if his whole world could collapse in the next few words.

"It's nothing we can't handle."

Mr Park said with resolve and confidence clearly invested in making sure (y/n) can not only succeed, but thrive. But (y/n) could only look down in shame, he had been reduced to relying on strangers.

"What's with that look? Stand proud (y/n)(y/l/n). You are strong. You don't have to carry this burden alone anymore."

(y/n) but his lip harshly, stopping the tears from forming as he choked up. Nodding as he trembled.

"I WONT LET YOU DOWN."

(Double upload since I missed yesterday 🙏)