the recovery project [2]

3 8

preston

"i just..." aidan eats a few chips to look semi-normal. "i just feel like i'm back in high school again, when i didn't know who i was, as cliché as that sounds."

"you know," preston says, sipping his shirley temple, and aidan would laugh if he hadn't just dumped all of his love drama into he other boy's lap. "i've felt like that before too. long story short, my mom and her sister were from north korea. they were stuck in the prison camps for 'political offenses' from their ancestors. my mom managed to escape, but her sister... her sister was trapped. years went by, and my mom got married to my dad after they had met in a small part of south korea. they eventually gave birth to me secretly since anyone could rat us out for my mother's escape when she was younger. one day, my mom received news that her sister was still alive, and she went to the border to try to help prisoners get out of north korea, searching for her sister. she had forced my dad and i to stay at home, and if she didn't come back within a week, she wanted us to leave and flee to another country."

aidan sets his food down and stares intently at him.

"we waited months," preston starts again with an awkward shrug and a soft sigh. "we tried to search for her without getting caught, but my dad needed to take care of me. my mother was either dead or had been captured again. he never told me how, but he took us both to america, where we started a new life here in new york. it was a struggle at first, i missed her terribly. sometimes, my dad wouldn't tell me a lot of things about her because he was still grieving. i hated my home, i hated korea for taking my mom away from me. that's why i changed my name to preston— something american, something fresh where i didn't have to worry about anyone trying to pronounce hyungsik. i miss my mom every day, but my dad told me what she used to say: meomchuji malgo gyesok haenagagiman handamyeon neujeodo sanggwaneopda: it does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop."

aidan doesn't know what to say, lips pinched together for a few minutes. "i'm sorry, my problems are so insignificant compared to yours—"

"your problems are still problems, aidan," preston smiles, hating that he's starting to sound like a therapist. "and my problems are problems also. it doesn't matter whose are worse. i miss my mother every day, but i know she would be proud of how hard i've worked to get where i am now. just because i suffered with my past differently doesn't mean that you don't get to suffer at all; it just means that you have to pick yourself back up after you get hit."

"thank you. it means a lot."

"anytime," he winks, ordering another round of burgers and french fries. "move on from everett, yeah? you can move on, find someone new."

aidan decides to change the subject, and the two talk until they run out of food to order.