Eleven

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Chapter Eleven

Enmity
(n.) the state or feeling of being actively opposed or hostile to someone or something

Yoongi never understood why they hated him.

Everything had been fine, up until the day he had announced his dream: to become a well-known music producer. Then they had shut him out. At that point, his brother's beta fish seemed more relevant than Yoongi's existence.

2am on a Friday night found 13-year old Yoongi holed up in his room, furiously writing lyrics. A pile of crumpled up papers were scattered about the room, from previous drafts. He leaned back for a moment, wiping imaginary sweat of his brow before turning to his keyboard to test out what he'd just done. Suddenly his mother barged in, scaring him half to death.

"Min Yoon-gi it's past midnight!" She yelled.

"I-I wasn't tired." He stammered.

"Here you are yet again, depriving yourself of sleep to write these pointless lyrics!" She cried. "You could be anything, a respectable doctor, a trustworthy dentist, or a successful CEO... why this?!"

"Mom, I don't want to be any of those..." He said. "I don't have the patience or the dedication for that."

"You think writing words on paper is going to support us when our backs are broken from work? You think it's going to help you find a wife and start a family? You think people will know you?" His mother laughed harshly. "Don't be so full of it."

"Just because your dream didn't work out doesn't mean mine won't." He replied angrily.

His mother snapped. Striding across the room, she seized the lyrics he'd put in hours worth of work on and tore them up.

"Mom!" Yoongi cried in horror.

His mother dropped the shreds of paper in front of him. "This." She said, steel faced. "Is what your dream will become."

With that, she stalked out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her. The silence was deafening and Yoongi could only stare at the torn up lyrics on his floor. Then it hit him. Those were his lyrics. His dream. And his parents didn't support it. Weren't parents supposed to encourage their kids to chase their dreams, and not tear them down?

He bit his lip until he tasted blood, willing the tears not to come.

"Of course I know very damn well this dream won't bring me the money I need." He growled. "But to me, my happiness is much more important than my success."

The following days were silent. Yoongi would get up, attend school, and spend the evening out before returning home and heading straight to bed. His parents never asked where he went or why he stayed out at such dangerous hours either. They rarely even spared him a glance.

As for his older brother, getting him into medical school seemed to be the only priority that concerned his parents. Day after day, Yoongi would walk past them on his way out, and they'd be hunched over the dining room table, furiously filling out paperwork or scrolling through some medical school's webpage on a laptop.

It was a Friday night, and 16 year old Yoongi was coming home from his usual full day out. As he opened the door, he found his father sitting on the futon, awaiting his arrival.

"Min Yoon-gi." His father beckoned him over.

Yoongi went and sat down on the floor across from his father and looked at him suspiciously.

"Three years." Was all his father started with.

Of this silence.

"Haven't you had enough time to come to your senses?"

"Is that what you were waiting for?" Yoongi asked. "That I'd find some new and better passion, and only then would you acknowledge my existence again?"

"Don't think we've been the only ones at fault here." His father said. "You have done nothing to support your brother. We've allowed you to play that awful keyboard late into the night, while your brother is struggling to concentrate on his studies. He has important exams coming up next week that could determine his future for the rest of his life."

"Well then good luck to him." Yoongi mumbled.

"Why must you soil our family's honor like this?" His father sighed. "We've done everything in our power to raise you the right way."

"Can't you see I have been raised right?" Yoongi forced a smile. "You raised me to be a good person and do good for others. But then you change when it comes to something I want to do for myself."

"Because what you want to do isn't going to give you a future!" His father cried. "No son of mine is going to become some no-name!"

"Then disown me." Yoongi said. "I don't care. I know I'm meant for music."

"Don't backtalk to me." His father's voice was dangerously low.

"I'm sorry." Yoongi mumbled. "But I just can't give this up."

His father snapped. Reaching out, he grabbed Yoongi roughly by the shoulder and with his other hand, punched him square in the jaw. Yoongi fell sideways and lay there in shock.

"This is what will happen to you!" He shouted. "You put yourself in the music industry, where it's crawling with shady competition. Rats who don't give two shits about your dream. They want money and if they have to steal your stupid lyrics to get it, they will. They'll take your works and pave their roads with the gold they receive for the success they'll get. People will scam you and hate you. Companies will kick you to the curb and when you resort to busking, the shame will last an eternity."

"You think I don't know that?!" Yoongi shouted back, rising to his feet. "Yeah I probably am throwing away a good future. But I won't throw away my future."

"You ungrateful brat!" Yoongi's father shoved him roughly against the wall, his arm pinned painfully behind his back. The sound of floorboards creaking caught Yoongi's attention and he saw his mom standing in the dimly lit doorway, arms crossed and an unreadable expression on her face.

"Mom..." He managed to say before a rough blow to his ribs silenced him.

Coughing, he doubled over. He could taste blood in his mouth and exhaustion slowed him.

"Why did we raise a disappointment?" His father asked, looking down at him with disapproval and shaking his head. "After everything we went through..."

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