Glass Hearts

Chapter 6 Part 2: Family Ties

Author Note: Photo Above is Chris Kim (looks like Huang Zitao)

Kevin Kim 

A South Korean man and woman, both from poor backgrounds, came to America in the early 90s and made a success out  of their lives. They built their entertainment company with sleepless nights as dishwashers and maids and saved with family donations until their company became a multi-billion-dollar conglomerate. 

From Crown Imperial Publishing and Elite Beauty Magazine, to Forever Cosmetics and Primrose Collection, Kwang-Seok Kim and Ji-Yeon Kim brought their vision to life. Once they were established, they started a family in the small town of Kismet, the perfect place to raise two boys.

Our family had all the hallmarks of a good life; a prosperous and well-respected father, a kind and studious mother, an enviable house, and prestigious boarding schools for my brother and I. We were picture-perfect, save for one detail. 

Our father was always working and when he was home, he held us to impossible standards, an impeccable vision of what each of us should be. Somewhere along the way the two boys became different men, molded by their family's influence in different ways.

"Hyung!" A familiar male voice yells. 

Looking up from my phone to see my younger brother, Chris, standing at the entrance of the café, makes me wish I knew him better. He waves happily as he weaves through the customers, a small smile on the corner of his lips. I jump up so quickly that I almost knock my chair over and pull him into a big hug. My arms wrap around him tightly, his chin resting on my shoulder.

I feel a strange ache in the pit of my stomach as my eyes well up with tears, the horrid liquid threatening to spill over. I banish them as quickly as they formed, not allowing the emotion to take over me. It's been far too long since I last saw him, but I have the sense not to blubber in front of him.

Chris clears his throat after a while, as if to let me know I've been holding him too long. I guess two grown men embracing in the middle of a café has him feeling a bit shy, the affection doesn't bother me much, but I respect his wishes. I pat him on the back two times before I release my hold on him.

"Sorry." I laugh as we break apart. "I'm just happy to see you."

"You don't call, you don't write." He jokes as he scratches the back of his head.

"If someone would use the phone I bought them, then maybe we would talk." I say emphasizing the word someone, alluding to his lack of communication. Chris shrugs his shoulders sheepishly as if to dodge my accusation.

I swear college kids are always exaggerating how busy they are. A five-minute phone call to his brother once a week won't delay him from writing an essay, the last-minute procrastination will. I know how it really is, I went to University too and I somehow still made time to work and had multiple internships. It's all in the hustle and time management, but I don't say any of these thoughts because he's allowed to live and be young.

"Speaking of bought, what happened to your jacket?" He says, pointing to my wet, gray blazer. "It's not every day I gift a one of a kind Ralph Lauren."

I follow his stare and immediately yank it off the chair, not wanting him to see it in its current state.

Chris bought me that jacket when he came to visit me in New York. It was late December, a few days before Christmas. We decided to explore the area around my apartment complex with no definite plan. I can still remember it like it was yesterday.

All we could hear was the solid crunch of our winter boots as we trekked through the hard snow. The only source of light was the dim streetlights that cast blurry shadows and the few green and red Christmas lights that decorated the houses on my block.