Fucking D.O Kyungsoo

Chapter 5

"Shut the fuck up Mom!"

"You don't speak to your elders like that. You listen to me. This cigarette, it's not going to get you anywhere. It's going to cost you money and give you cancer, is that what you want?"

"I'm not fucking addicted. I told you. I was out at a bar and a chick gave me one and I took it. Is it so bad to try the damn thing?"

The boy peered warily into the kitchen from where he was in the living room, his fingers curled around the frame of the opening in the plaster, to see his Mom,standing there with his older brother, the both of them fighting to no end, his mother holding a joint and his brother clearly having difficulty standing.

"Oh, so a bar." She scoffs, digging the cigarette into the counter and brushing it aside. "You think alcoholism is better than an addiction to smoking then?"

"Well for fucks sake Mom what do you want me to do? You couldn't have expected me to be the perfect son, not with how you raised me. Not with all of that shit of 'look after your brother, make sure he's okay.' 'Keep your brother safe make sure he's not sneaking off anywhere.' 'Are you okay? Remember, your brother's happiness comes before yours, keep him entertained.' 'While you're watching your brother, make sure to do your homework, and even if you have to take him, go to that class at eleven pm, we can't have our son being a failure and getting a low grade on his exams.' You think that kind of pressure didn't mess me up just a little bit?"

His mother rolled her eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh, her hands on her hips and her mouth drawn in a perfect line of dissatisfaction.

"Both your father and I had to work, we had no other choice but to put your brother in your care. We just said what we thought you needed to know. At first you had been completely clueless when it came to taking care of the child."

"So what, you just expected me to be his third parent?"

"That's what an older brother is for."

"No, it fucking isn't. I wanted to be his friend, I didn't want to get blamed for being irresponsible when he accidentally ran into something and broke it, or when he got hurt and cried for five minutes. Why was everything always my damn fault?"

His mother shakes her head, her hand on her forehead.

"We're getting off track. This isn't about your brother. This is about you being irresponsible and damaging your body and staying out until eleven pm, only to come back like this."

She gestures to the boy in disgust.

The fifteen year old shivers, still standing, his back aching from the angle he's positioned in but nothing could tear his eyes away from a scene like this.

Smoke was still drifting from the smashed cigarette, tickling his nostrils as he watched his elder brother stumble every time he tried to stand tall, and saw his mother, who, granted, had a closed mind, but still was right about the effects his brother's habits were having on his body.

"Oh, right," His brother rolls his eyes, throwing his hands in the air, and the boy takes this as his cue to run, quickly going up the stairs in fear of being noticed, taking the same position, head peaking out of the doorway and looking into the kitchen, only this time he was in his bedroom and he had to try to catch glimpses of facial expressions from down the stairway. "It's all me being irresponsible I forgot. Just call me the irresponsible disappointment child, the guy who can't do anything." The younger quickly pulled away as he saw his brother beginning his ascent up the stairs, leaving his door ajar as he runs to the bottom bunk of his bed and lays down, throwing the blankets over his head and listening intently as he could hear his brother's voice becoming muffled, assuming he had turned back to the kitchen to yell the phrase of 'Because I"m always just so, painfully irresponsible right Mom?!" And then he continues to stomp his way up the stairs, turning right, and pushing open the door.