Jinyoung crossed his arms and watched Mark, who was watering the flowers in the backyard. Some parts of his clothes were wet and drenched. Mark seemed to be lost in his own thoughts and did not notice that Jinyoung was watching him.
Jinyoung smiled as an idea struck him; he approached Mark and stopped within a few feet away from him.
"Hey, the chauffeur's son!"
Jinyoung called and Mark turned to him, immediately, with a frown.
"Come here," Jinyoung ordered.
Mark bit his lip and looked at Jinyoung straight in the eyes, "Why should I?"
"You can't ask me back. If I tell you to come over, then you do," Jinyoung challenged.
"I'm not your servant, Park Jinyoung."
Jinyoung stepped forward, "I'm your young master! Now stop whatever you're doing and follow me before I go and tell my father about how you are treating me."
Jinyoung smiled in victory when Mark dropped the water pipe unwillingly and walked to him. Jinyoung held up his hand when Mark got near him.
"Don't come too close!"
Jinyoung turned around and made his way to the front yard where his swing was. When he got near his swing, he turned back to Mark.
"Now, swing it for me. And stop only when I tell you to."
Jinyoung went and settled himself on the swing, while Mark did not move a bit from his spot.
"Why don't you have your maids to swing it for you? I'm not your servant. I'm doing nothing for you."
"You deny and I'm going to tell my father. Then my father'll scold yours, and then you'll be scolded by your father."
Mark was still for a moment and then grudgingly came and took his place beside the swing, holding the chain to swing it.
"Start now," Jinyoung ordered.
The swing started to move backward and forward, but Jinyoung was not satisfied.
"You've got no strength? Swing it harder!"
His order was complied, maybe, more than he had expected.
"Slow down," Jinyoung said, as he kept his hold on the chains tight since the swing was moving too fast. He continued complaining about the way Mark swung the swing. But he smiled in victory as he knew he had now got his hand over Mark.
"Stop now."
The swing came to a halt; and Jinyoung got off it instantly.
"You don't know how to swing. You got me even more frustrated than before."
The sun was slowly rising for the noon and it was already near the lunch time for Jinyoung.
"Now, Mark Tuan. You're not allowed to go back yet," Jinyoung felt inside his pockets of the shirt and handed Mark some cash, "Buy me some snacks. Mind you, you can't use that money for yourself. And come back within fifteen minutes. If you don't, don't blame me."
Mark took the money but looked at Jinyoung with despise.
"The time counts now."
After throwing another spiteful glance at Jinyoung, Mark stormed out of the place and to the front gate of the yard.
Jinyoung looked at the disappearing figure and laughed, satisfied with himself at how he had controlled Mark.
"A fool."
Jinyoung turned around to leave the place for his lunch, with his head filled with another scheme to torture Mark.
The sun of the noon tired Mark, as he ran toward the house back, with the bag of snacks in his hand. His stomach was empty and he could cry because of the hunger alone. Park Jinyoung. The name alone sickened him and hatred was what came along with that name.
He kept running till he arrived at the place near the swing and panted. There was no one nearby and he sat down on the swing to rest for a moment.
But for five more minutes, he sat there, expecting Jinyoung would appear from anywhere. He could have lunch now; he would hand in the snacks to one of the maids and then go back to his place to have lunch. His father was not there but out with his master.
As a child, Mark was interested in the inside of the house and how everything was there decorated so nicely; but his father had warned him not to enter it if there was not a good reason.
He approached the house tentatively and knocked at the main door as the doorbell was too high for him.
He had to keep knocking till the door was, at last, opened by a maid.
"What's the matter?" She asked, "You're Mr. Tuan's son, right?"
"Yes. Give this to Park Jinyoung. He asked me to buy these snacks for him."
"You're back now?"
Both of them turned to the voice and found Jinyoung walking toward them.
"Give it to him now," the maid said to Mark in a whisper, before moving away and leaving them alone.
"Here. Take this."
Mark handed Jinyoung the bag of the snacks when the latter stood in front of him.
"It's not that easy, Mark Tuan. You're late for ten minutes, and I'm not letting you go away just like that."
Jinyoung was satisfied to see Mark in sweat and with not much energy.
"Follow me. You've got to receive your punishment."
"What? Punishment for what?"
"Don't ask me back. You were late. You'll be punished so that you won't do something like that again next time."
"Who're you to punish me? You're not my father or anything."
"Your father works for my father."
Jinyoung took the collar of Mark's shirt and dragged him along to the front yard where there was nothing but just the open, with no plants or anything.
Mark struggled himself out of Jinyoung's hold once Jinyoung stopped.
"Now run around this yard until I tell you to stop. That's what you get for not obeying me."
The sun was shining quite hot now above the head; and with nothing in his stomach, Mark had no energy to run. When he did not move, Jinyoung glowered at him.
"What're you doing? Don't understand what I said? Do that or there'll be another punishment worse than this."
Mark bit his lip in anger and started moving before running around the front yard in a circle. In a few minutes, his shirt got drenched in sweat and the sun of the noon nearly caused him to faint.
Far away, he heard Jinyoung's satisfied laughter, which provoked his anger and stirred the certain detestation in him. Park Jinyoung, Mark hated him to the depth of his heart.
