Sea of Stars ∞ ATEEZ AU

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

San felt sick to the stomach. The journey from Namhae to Seoul had only lasted several hours, and yet he felt as if weeks had flown past with the sluggish movement of the car. The poor, shuddering vehicle had managed to traverse half the country without falling apart when it would have usually broken down a few metres from the house.

The stifling atmosphere, however, left little room for celebration. San's already aching joints had been painfully sandwiched between furniture throughout the journey, leaving most muscles sore to the touch.

Unable to hold in the discomfort any further, he rolled down the window, hoping for a gust of fresh wind to clear his head. He almost gagged when clouds of dust and city pollution began to seep through the small opening instead, and hurriedly shut the window in annoyance.

Of course, it wasn't like he had expected anything better. Throughout the journey, he had watched with sullen eyes as the lofty mountains and forests of the south had gradually fallen away to reveal a skeletal network of skyscrapers and flats. The lush green of the landscape had scraped away to make room for these machine-made towers of blinding metal and glass, something which made his skin crawl. It was so different from how it was back home, and back home was so far away.

But was it even right to call Namhae home? After all, San and his family had been on the move for as long as he could remember, never really lingering in one place for too long as they obediently travelled to each new stationed address his father's company sent. No, calling Namhae home was out of the question. Sure, he'd made his first friend there — if you could call the person you silently sat with for lunch a friend — and he'd even managed to remain under the radar of the school tyrants. He'd usually have to run to the local cosmetic store to purchase several pallets of foundation. One dollop would hide the conspicuous black eye, a few splats would cover up the bruise on his arm that refused to disappear, and a smidge to blur the nick on his jawline that stung like someone had poured lemon juice onto a paper-cut.

Of course, etching such a brutal trophy onto San's body came at a high price: a blow twice as painful as the one the assailant had dealt. It would be a blasphemous lie to say San couldn't fight, and not too shabbily at that. He'd managed to retain the title of the regional Taekwondo champion for several years now, even despite his lack of adhering to one club. To confront San meant to challenge the knowledge of all his teachers before him; that was something that never ended well for the swaggering challenger.

At first glance, San was just another pretty face in a sea of bland, monotonous stares; high cheekbones accentuated an already sculpted face set with hawk-like eyes and rosebud lips. But looks can be deceiving. It was a lesson hard-learned for each classmate who had jestingly tried to throw a jab at his side, or teased him for wearing the same clothes, or made a futile attempt at a "your mum" joke.

Sensing a growing mass of repressed memories probing at the edge of his mind, he let out a forceful sigh and closed his eyes. He'd been through so much, and all for what? It already irked him to be shoved into the back of a rickety old car — being transported across the country like some stolen good only rubbed salt into the wound.

The whole affair reminded him too much of his comical, and yet disheartening, fate as what seemed to be South Korea's last nomad. Quite ironically, that was how things had played out. San didn't even remember the last time he had gotten those eight golden hours of slumber everyone seemed to endorse. Even a nap seemed like some unobtainable treasure when his only pillow was a musty, hole-riddled bag filled with equally dusty clothes.

Sighing, he reached inside his coat pocket and quietly pulled out his sole source of comfort: a scruffy stuffed dog toy by the name of Shiber. The worn figurine was a soothing presence for him, and he felt his gloom dip a little as he held him close. He could even begrudgingly accept dozing off for a few hours now. It seemed a welcome idea after the hectic day he'd endured.

As he snuggled into the toy, his mind refused to let him rest, but his body, aching and bruised for several hours now, could not resist the call to dreamland. Before he knew it, tiredness descended on him like a blanket to lull him to sleep.

                                      ****

Blaring horns and shrieking tyres quickly sounded before San collided face first with the seat in front of him. Time seemed to slow down as he braced for a harsher impact before reality came crashing down in a flurry of furious honks. The car came to a screeching halt.

Snapping awake, he shoved the nearby boxes aside, desperately craning his neck to try and locate the reason for the commotion. It couldn't have been that they had hit someone, could it? Despite his best efforts, however, nothing could be seen. He had only one option left. Inhaling deeply, he yanked open the car door and jumped out. The sound of aggressive yelling assaulted his ears; he steadied himself before bravely stepping out onto the busy intersection.

Several metres in front of him, a young boy was sprawled across the floor, motionless and phone in hand. A small crowd had gathered around him, pointing fingers and sharing irked looks as they tutted.

San immediately rushed to the boy's aid the moment he began to cough and splutter, earning shouts of exasperation from the onlookers. Stopping just a metre from the boy's hands, he surveyed the scene with scrutinous eyes experienced in picking up even the most minute of details. As of now, there was no sign of blood or severe injury. He had been fortunate.

"Excuse me, are you okay?"

He gently shook him by the shoulder. The boy only groaned in response, but it was enough to dissipate the tightness in San's chest. Mustering all his strength, he grabbed him by the arm and slowly helped the poor lad stand upright.

It was only then he noticed the red-rimmed eyes and steady stream of tears flowing down his pallid face. The boy appeared to be whispering something, but his voice was hoarse from what San only assumed was hours of crying.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He repeated, this time with an increasing level of concern as the boy continued to weep into the sleeve of his coat. After a slight pause, he lifted his gaze to San's equally troubled eyes.

"My brother, he's missing."