You're Perfect to Me || ATEEZ || Woosan

You're Perfect to Me

For as long as San could remember, he had lived with a horrible curse. He'd been born with it, as far as he knew, and that's all he knew and even that wasn't absolutely certain. If it was even true at all, he had absolutely no idea. He really must've pissed someone off in a previous life to warrant this kind of living hell now. He supposed it could've been worse. He could've been cursed to look like a hideous monster until he found love, or to sleep endlessly until his true love kissed him. But no, instead, he was cursed, whenever anyone looked at him, to always look like their ideal type. Now, saying it out loud and all didn't really make his situation sound like a curse. Of course, anyone would want to look like the perfect person to someone they cared about but when everyone had different tastes, San quickly found out that to every person he met, he looked completely different. It had taken him forever to figure out why no one, not even his own parents, could agree on what he looked like. No one saw the same person he did in the mirror and that's where the "curse" part came into full effect.

He noticed it first when he was six and old enough to fully understand what his mother was saying and why it was wrong.

"Sanie, you have such gorgeous hair," she cooed as she was brushing it one morning. "Such pretty blonde hair."

San looked up at his mother; he didn't understand what she meant.

"Mommy? My hair is black like yours."

His mother laughed.

"Oh no sweetie, look." His mother pointed into the mirror he was sitting in front of. "See? They're different." 

But when San did, all he saw was normal, plain black hair like he had always had. Was his mother just playing a joke on him? Just being silly? His six-year-old brain certainly couldn't understand it. It was quickly forgotten, though, like with most things at that age. But when he got older, old enough to realize his mother wasn't joking, it made him even more at a loss than before.

"You know San, I've always wanted a boy with beautiful blonde hair and bright eyes. I love you so much; you're going to do great things!"

That didn't make any sense. Again, San knew his hair was black and his eyes were a dark brown, perhaps the exact opposite of "bright".

The same day, feeling more confused than ever before, he went to his father with the same question.

"Dad? What do I look like to you?"

"The same as you always do? Are you feeling all right?" His dad asked, setting down the book he had been reading.

"Can you just answer the question? Mom seems to think I have blonde hair..."

"Your mother must be delusional," his father laughed. "You've got black hair just like everyone else."

San sighed in relief.

"Oh, thank God, you have no idea—"

"But you know San, with your physique you should be an athlete, have you ever thought about trying out for some sports? You know, I've always wanted to go cheer my son on at a sports game."

San looked down at his rather scrawny body. Sure, he was getting taller and definitely filling out as he went through his teenage years, but nothing about his body type really screamed "star athlete".

"I'll think about it, dad," San said, defeated. By that point in his life, he had learned not to argue with people when what they saw and what he actually looked like to himself didn't sync up. Especially after he once got into an argument with a kid in elementary school and had made the poor girl cry. But, to be fair, he had been crying too, so it evened everything out in the end.