Sun & Moon

FIFTY NINE

The next few weeks consist of Doyoung arriving to work at the crack of dawn and leaving before anyone sees him. His trending on social media was a wake-up call to Doyoung: a reminder that he should think before he acts and be more aware of his surroundings.

The situation dies down much earlier than Doyoung thinks. However, the person who always remembers humiliation the most is yourself. This is true for Doyoung as well; he continues to hide from the employees at Skyline even when they do not care, nor remember, about his viral incident.

When his father asks to meet with him, Doyoung wants to dig into a hole and die. He's been doing a wonderful job of erasing his existence. Why does he need to ruin all that hard work now? He hesitantly leaves his office and trudges to the elevator. However, none of the employees bother as much to even look at him. The realization makes him feel both slightly embarrassed for considering it as big a deal as he did but also relieved that he wouldn't have to come to work so early now. But as he swipes his key card to access the CEO's office floor, a new type of apprehension fills his gut. Doyoung hides his hands in his pockets to prevent himself from fiddling with his fingers. His father has a way of making him feel absolute dread, an exhausting and mind-numbing dread, that makes Doyoung wish he could quit his position as the son of Skyline's CEO and run away.

The elevators open, large and wide, but Doyoung's chest feels small and compressed. He slowly walks towards the office. He takes a deep breath before lightly knocking on the door and entering the room.

Kim Duho sits at his desk, flipping through files, and does not look up when his only family enters.

"Dad," Doyoung says hesitantly. "What is it?"

"Sit down," his father says, closing the file. As Doyoung sits across from him, his father watches him with a careful eye. He doesn't necessarily seem disappointed, but he doesn't seem pleased either. The neutrality on his face is scarier than anything else. Doyoung would much rather know what his father is thinking than constantly try to guess himself. "You seem excited recently. Everyone knows."

Doyoung feels his face go hot. Apparently, everyone forgot but his very own father. For some reason, this makes Doyoung feel angry. His chest tightens in frustration. His father never cares to keep up with his life. So why did he bother to remember something everyone else has moved on about? "It's my personal life. It has nothing to do with you," Doyoung says sharply.

A tired sigh escapes his father's mouth. "I know. I truly don't care about what you do in your free time. I dropped the loyalty contract thing, yet it seems like you've been getting along with Jiyeon just fine." His words don't seem like they have the intention of attacking Doyoung. Rather, they are just informative and accurate.

But the honesty fills Doyoung with an uncontainable amount of bitterness. He knows very well that his father does not care about him the way a parent should. But to say it out loud with his own mouth? To admit it himself? It stings Doyoung that his father can't even pretend to care. "She's just a friend," he lets out through gritted teeth.

"Five years," Duho says pointedly. "I'll leave this position then."

Like plucking petals off a flower or throwing a stone into an undisrupted pond, Doyoung nearly falls apart. He almost lets out the years of hurt and rage he's been storing at the pit of his stomach. It almost overflows, and he knows he won't be able to take any of it back.

I don't want it. I don't want it. I don't want it.

But Doyoung says something else instead. "You know, I visited mom recently." There is no reply from his father, so he continues. "You ruined everything. You ruined my relationship with my mom. You don't even care about her, but you made her leave me too." His voice is surprisingly strong, but in the sense that each word comes out managing to hold its extreme weight.

"Don't say things you don't know about," Duho quietly says.

"Then explain it so I understand!" Doyoung exclaims. "Because all I get is that mom couldn't take it anymore to the point that she didn't even want to be near you. And you didn't care enough to stop her." He clenches his hands into fists, his fingernails pressing into his palms.

"I love her, Doyoung," Duho snaps. His voice is defeated and tired yet angry. "I knew better than anyone that she needed to get away. Even though I wanted her by my side always, I couldn't give her enough attention. For someone independent like her, it wasn't right. I won't hold her back from her happiness."

The response nearly makes Doyoung laugh. He hates it. The idea that his father might have cared about anyone at all makes Doyoung's chest fill with an immense feeling of hatred. He takes a deep breath, but that anxious, flittering mass of hurt never seems to dissipate from his body. "Why was I even born?" Doyoung finally breathes out. He is tired of talking to his father. It drains away every bit of strength from him, making him feel like a helpless child. "Because it doesn't feel like you ever wanted a son. Just an heir."

The words make the corners of Duho's mouth quiver, just a little, as if even a drop of emotion threatens to leak out. But he holds it in like he always has. "I have work to do."

"Fine," Doyoung seethes out. He stands up from the chair and turns his back towards his father without saying another word.

As Doyoung's hand grabs the door, Duho's voice interrupts him. "Thank you for taking care of your mother."

Doyoung does not say anything and walks out the door.

But as he leaves, a small doubt enters his mind. The doubt that five years in the future, he won't be able to take care of all the people he loves.