He has lost her. He lost white. And since then, black was all he could see. He navigated in darkness, without a hint of light, until he began to believe that there were no other shades. He walked on the pitch-black path, which wasn't to his liking...
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The noble-minded are calm and steady. Little people are forever fussing and fretting. A great saying by Confucius, with which I can identify very well. I found proof to sustain it several times during the thirty-one years I have spent on this planet. I even witnessed yet another piece of evidence right before my eyes that made my mind jump to where this saying was stored in my chaotic brain. I mean, I certainly was in no position to consider myself superior to others. Hell, I wasn't qualified at all to be considered noble-minded. But when you shed your dignity to shitty EDM and mixed booze, I can't help but think you're indeed a little mind. Sure enough, in this crowded, dim place, there were a lot of little minds. My guest included.
When Seokjin told me that we were going to meet with our new associate at this private nightclub, I didn't really understand the reason for choosing this place. We could have gone somewhere private for dinner. We could have gone straight to business and called it a day. But now, with said partner wrapping his arms around two women who I could swear were at least ten years younger than him, I deciphered the reason for this choice. Park Jimin would not sign a contract and abide by its clauses if he was only served dinner at a posh restaurant. Park Jimin would sign a contract and abide by its clauses if he was served pussy.
No judgment here. Some people are picky about their food. Just because his father was satisfied with a nice meal and a good bottle of whiskey didn't mean he'd be too.
Park Jimin's father, Park Yung-so, was the first person to believe in my vision. When I came to him with nothing but a plan for the future of the entertainment industry that no one believed in and no money to offer, he didn't fixate on my lack of cash. He appreciated the novelty of my ideology. He believed in innovation. Knew that it was necessary to maximize profits and expand the scope to an international level. The man had sent me home with the promise of a callback, which I firmly believed was a friendly way of telling me to fuck off. But when he called at a quarter past eleven at night to arrange a meeting for the next day, the hope I had begun to lose was back.
I had brought Seokjin with me to the arranged meeting. He had the social skills that I lacked. I had the business sense. When we arrived at his office in southern Gangnam, his proposal had already been worked out. I remember looking at the building and promising that one day I would own something bigger. I kept my promise.
His terms were not the kind I couldn't work with. He wanted to be a shareholder — one of the largest after the main board members, which Seokjin and I were to be. We accepted in a heartbeat. Of course we did. The man was investing money; we just had an elaborate plan to take over the entertainment business.
Two years later, we tripled his investment. Five years later, we bought eighty percent of his shares. We left him enough to stay on the board. But when he realized how much he had profited from a business venture he wasn't even counting on, he decided to resign from the board, leaving Seokjin and me as the only major shareholders on the board of members.
