| Fan Fiction |
by Micah
Mr. Kim looked upset by the question. “This house was personally designed by my girlfriend and me. I know the place by heart.”
“Your girlfriend?” Yoochun inquired, remembering the picture that he had seen in Mr. Kim’s office.
The slight humor and ease that had been on his employer’s handsome face evaporated within seconds. He was frowning again as his hands gripped hard on the doorknob. “She’s gone. She left after she found out that I would be blind.”
“I’m sorry,” Yoochun murmured.
“Why should you be sorry?” Mr. Kim scoffed. “I was blinded in a car accident. I was driving up the mountains to a cabin I own and all of a sudden, this ugly guy came running out from nowhere. I couldn’t brake in time so I turned the wheel and my car collided with the rocks. He left me there to die while he just ran off.”
Yoochun gulped. “Maybe…he was in a hurry?”
“He was worried that I would sue him,” Mr. Kim assured.
Yoochun wanted to tell him, ‘You wouldn’t have been able to think about that part when you’re frantically racing down the mountains because your brother was near death.’
“When the doctor told me I wouldn’t be able to see, I decided to move to this beach house with my girlfriend to heal. We designed every inch of this place together so I most, if not all, of it memorized. At the least, I could make my way around the place without bother her. But…” he paused and sighed, “But I was wrong in believing that she would be here with me.”
“I’m sorry,” Yoochun murmured again. He didn’t know what else he could say.
“For the last time, stop apologizing. It’s not your fault. Now go to sleep.”
Yoochun strained his eyes to watch as Mr. Kim made his way out of the room. He climbed off the bed and silently followed his employer until he saw that the slightly shorter man had walked back into his own room.
Mr. Kim had obviously heard Yoochun’s footsteps because he mumbled another, ‘Go to sleep,’ before closing the door to his own room.
Yoochun felt fatigue wash over him as he dragged himself back to the guest room.
Two words rung in his ear, ‘Ugly guy.’
■■■■■
Yoochun was busy reading a sports magazine while Mr. Kim was in the office.
His cell phone vibrated and he quickly uncovered it, already knowing who the other person was. There weren’t many (or even a few) people who were in his address book…or had him in their address book.
It was a text message from his brother, just to say ‘Hi’ and ‘I love you’. Attached to the message was a picture of his brother smiling at the camera, his way of saying that he was doing well.
Yoochun smiled and pressed the necessary buttons to save the picture in his memory; another picture added to the folder that only had pictures of the brother he loved so much.
Then he stood up to walk into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of orange juice. The cell phone was in his right hand and the glass in his left. He stood in the kitchen and stared at the cabinet doors. They looked like they were about to fall off any minute now.
Mr. Kim wouldn’t allow Yoochun to fix it. This house was special to Mr. Kim and his girlfriend. It was their ‘home’. He wanted to be the one in charge of fixing the stuff, to fix this broken home, this broken relationship.
Yoochun sighed and he couldn’t determine if the feeling inside him was jealousy or guilt.
But he knew it was ‘fear’ when he heard Mr. Kim’s voice saying, “Want to hear something funny?”
Yoochun’s eyes went wide at the sudden appearance and he nearly jumped out of his skin. His body took a sharp 180 degree turn to look at the other man and his right hand bumped into the corner of the counter. The pain in his hand caused him to drop the cell phone.
It scattered, broken, onto the kitchen tiles.
Yoochun frowned. Why had he been so scared anyway?
Because he felt like Mr. Kim was catching him thinking about his employer as…well, as more than an employer!
“What was that?”
“My cell phone,” Yoochun grumbled. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“It’s your fault for not hearing me walk in. Are you turning deaf?”
“No, I was just…thinking.”
“About what?” Mr. Kim asked, and then noticed that he sounded too eager to know so he frowned.
Yoochun knew it wasn’t the time for it, but he released a small burp.
“Are you drinking orange juice again?” Mr. Kim guessed.
“Yes,” the slightly taller man replied, wanting to smile because his employer remembered.
“Pour me a glass. I’ll buy you a new phone.”
“No, that’s okay. I don’t get many calls anyway. So what’s so funny?” he said while pouring another glass of juice and placing it in the other man’s hand.
“What?” Mr. Kim asked before downing the glass of orange juice and looking ever so sexy in the process. Yoochun tried to push the thought (and the image) away as he retrieved the empty glass and placed it on the counter.
“You asked me if I wanted to hear something funny,” Yoochun reminded as he knelt down to pick up the pieces of his phone. The back had fallen off and pieces on the inside had fallen out. Even the chip was ruined.
Cheap phone.
It only hurt that he had so many pictures of his brother in that chip.
“I just got off the phone with my friend. After telling me some news, he told me that I’ve changed.”
“How?” Yoochun stood back up, curious.
“In the past, when he told me bad news, I would get angry. Then when he told me good news, I would simply say it wasn’t good enough. According to him, I no longer do that.”
“I think your temper is more tolerable now than it was when I first started working for you. You were a real son of a gun. I would have silently murdered and chopped you up to make buns that I could sell.”
“Thanks for being so frank,” Mr. Kim said sarcastically.
“You even joke, which is a good thing. I hear being happier helps you heal faster too.”
“I’m not seeing any progress with my eyes. Pun intended,” he drawled.
“Look on the bright side,” Yoochun reminded, then realized that he was using the wrong words again so he quickly added, “I mean, think of the good stuff.”
“Do you always say ‘Look on the bright side’?”
“It’s my favorite phrase.”
“Are you sure you’re not a girl in disguise?”
“Is that your favorite phrase?”
Mr. Kim decided to ignore the attitude and returned to the intended topic, “My temper was especially bad after the accident because of two reasons. One, I’ve always been in control of my life. Losing my sight was like having everything taken out of my hands. I hate not being able to be in control of my life. Two, it was because my girlfriend left me. It…really hurt.”
“Did you really love her?” Yoochun inquired as he walked over to Mr. Kim to guide him towards the dining table to sit down.
“Yes.”
Yoochun found that he was afraid to ask, ‘Do you still love her?’
“I don’t know why you would when it seems that she was with you for your money.”
“Little Mouse,” he said as he raised his hand. Yoochun understood what he wanted to do so he guided the hand to the top of his own head, ducking slightly to make it easier. He patted Yoochun’s head as if he was a kid and continued, “You don’t live to find the person who loves you, you live to find the person you love. You’ll understand when you experience it.”
“It’s funny that you’re telling me this about something cheesy like love. I didn’t think powerful tycoons like you know anything about love,” Yoochun pointed out.
Was Mr. Kim playing with his hair?
“That’s a stereotype,” he answered. “Don’t run your life based on stereotypes and assumptions.”
Yoochun frowned at the way he was treating him. “I’m not a kid. You can stop with the hair.”
“How old are you again?”
“Twenty-three.”
“That’s five years younger than me. I keep thinking you’re younger.”
Yoochun’s mouth dropped. Mr. Kim was twenty-eight? Unbelievable! He looked so…so young, almost younger than Yoochun! No way! Was there a mistake on his birth certificate?
“What are you thinking?” his voice interrupted Yoochun’s thoughts. Even his voice sounded young. Not husky or hoarse or deep. As a matter of fact, it was slightly on the high side and would make an awesome voice for a singer.
This man with a baby face really didn’t look like he was twenty-eight. But then, he didn’t look like a powerful, rich business man with a mean temper either.
Never judge a book by its cover.
“Why would you think that I’m younger than my age? Because you think I’m immature?”
“You seem to talk without thinking and seem too stupid to realize that employees don’t talk to employers the way you talk to me. At one point, I thought this was your first job and you had jumped into it for the money. And no, I don’t think you’re immature. I know you’re immature.”