A Photograph's Consequence

Chapter 7: Rich Life and Rivalries (Part I)

Chapter 7: Rich life and Rivalries (Part I)

1 hour before meeting with Chorong...

Jimin POV

The air leaves my lungs with a rush, pain shooting up my back as I slam down onto the practice mats. I take a quick glance at the gigantic clock hung up against the brick wall. It's been almost two hours since I've been wrestling. Should I stop?

The other guy falls with me, and I realize I've still got a handful of his t-shirt. I suck in a quick breath as I shove my weight to one side, coming up to my knees in one movement so I'm looming over him, instead of the other way around.

I can't believe I made such an idiot of myself last night at the restaurant. Everyone in the entire city knows who Na Eun is and I couldn't have glanced at one lousy newscast, watched one of those damn gossip shows, and learned what she looked like? I must be the only guy alive in the whole city that doesn't know.

Surely her face is plastered across all her family products and billboards around town and yet I couldn't have just paid a little attention to things, I wouldn't have embarrassed myself in front of everyone at the VIP dinner.

Last night we were dining with many of my parent's friends in business and I for one thought that the daughter of the Gahong corporation was a waiter and asked her to grab me a drink. When she ignored me, I decided to call upon customer service and got slammed with embarrassment when they told me who she was. 

Normally, you couldn't get me near a girl that rich because my parents don't want me playing around with rich girls, they have daddy's money and favour, you know, which makes them more dangerous to deal with. I wasn't thinking at all. The only thing I had on my mind was a nice sweet banana bubble tea-

The guy underneath me pushes up against my shoulder and I roll it back so he can't get escape from my grasp. Planting a knee in his chest and drawing back my arm, I hold him firm under my grip. My fist makes it halfway to the guy's cheek before he breaks free. He scrambles after me grinning and panting.

"That all you got kid? Try harder!"

That's all I ever hear. 'That all you got? It's not enough or try harder.' Be richer. Be smarter. Be better. Be the best. Learn which cutlery to use. Speak like us. Think like us. Be like your stepbrother. Work for the family company. Learn to do everything. UGH, I'm sick of it all!

Down here, I don't have to think about those kinds of things. Here, I asked a lot of the staff here to treat me like another opponent at which they respectfully accepted. I had to fight my hardest and strongest. It was easier than learning to do all those procedures, tutors, and proper things.

All the people that come down here become neutral; no status, no title, just another normal individual who wants to fight. A ragged chorus of shouts and swearing-in dozen different languages erupts from the blur of fatigues and faces around us. The only worker down here is the person overseeing the sparring and he's not about to tell us to watch our mouths.

They know who I am down here but they don't care. We're all here for one reason and that is to wrestle, it's a proud and honorable sport I must say. It's only out there in a society where everyone will acknowledge me and treat me like a prince, someone of importance because of my family name and status.

But I am just another normal guy, who has his own dreams, flaws, and insecurities. Everyone knows my face from the many newspapers and tv screens I have appeared on, It's sometimes hard to be born with a silver spoon. The endless comparisons and competitions amongst families and rivalries. I'm sick of it all but It's not like I can escape it, or run away. That's why I'm down here, releasing my energy and taming my emotions.

I dislike being in the public eyes but since my eighteenth is around the corner, my identity was soon be known by all, as the official heir to the Parks Industry. Still, even a fly would've recognized Son Na Eun, daughter of one of the wealthiest men in Asia.

I can't stand the fact that she stood there and let me play dumb around her. Did she think it was funny to mock me like that in front of my parents? I bet  Taehyung and Jungkook thought it was funny as well.

Taehyung was my stepbrother but because of him not belonging to me and Jungkook's mum, he wasn't really welcomed by everyone in our social circle.

Taehyung was my stepbrother, and since he's from my father's second wife, he's become like bad gum in the public's eyes, he wasn't welcomed at all but he chose not to care. Sometimes I wish we swapped roles so that no one's attention was on me, I can just hide in the shadows.

I lash out so quickly me and my opponent are both surprised. Before I could tackle my opponent, he rolls away, hands up in front of his face with blood seeping through his fingers. I draw a breath before I can move, the ref puts a hand between us.

I lean back on my elbows, chest heaving as he helps the other guy to his feet and hands him over to one of his buddies to head for the medic or sick bay. Then the ref turns back to me and stands up next to me arms crossed in front of him.

"Son, one more like that and, you're off the mats, you understand? One more and I'll be sending you out for the rest of the season."

Down here it's all plain fatigues, khaki T-shirts, and pants, and I can ditch my money and family and pretend I'm one of these middle-class people. Down here I'm just a seventeen-year-old turning eighteen in a few weeks, not the son of Parks industries or a chaebol.

People here don't care about my money or my father's wealth, they just lay any blow on me not caring if they end up in prison. They take any hit or punch at me in any way, doesn't matter who's got what background up there. Here, everyone was equal.

I prefer it that way sometimes. Some days I wish it was just that way. That I could earn my place in society by working for it starting from the very bottom and made my way up. Not just having things given to you on a silver platter.

I wanted to earn my stripes in official training rather than out in the field where my mistakes cost more than scars than marks on a piece of paper. What I mean is I wish I didn't have to be given everything I ask for.

"Yes sir," I answer him, my breath still coming quickly and I climb to my feet carefully. Wanting to stay here a little longer. I was ready to do this until I couldn't take it anymore.

[End of Chapter Seven: Part One]