Work Text:
Ahn Jungri is 23 (almost 24, mind you)
She’s hesitating to enter the building where she’ll start her internship, the place she spent a good portion of her childhood and over time the place she grew to hate. During the earlier years of her childhood she loved Yulje. The sentimental value of it all, the nostalgia especially for her parents. It was where they first met, they fell in love, had their first kiss. Her dad explained one night after too much bourbon for a man his age to handle, that it was also where she was conceived, however her mother refuses to verify it (it’s true by the way).
However, it was also where she hypothesised they fell out of love. It was where her father wasn’t Appa, but Chairman Ahn Jeongwon, the youngest chairman to be elected in the last decade,the face of Yulje and the pioneer of Daddy Long Legs program, currently a fully fledged government incentive to help treat the unfortunate and oppressed. It was where Eomma was the acclaimed Dr. Jang Gyeoul, the country’s youngest, forty ninth pediatric surgeon - following her husband’s lead, a household name for her numerous breakthroughs in said department with at least three papers under her name appearing in New England Journal of Medicine (NEJM) and made Yulje the country’s hub for pediatric surgery.
It was a place where love was abundant but also hate, resentment, grief and heartbreak. She took a long sigh before entering the bittersweet building where her own journey in the hospital began.
----
Ahn Jungri is 7.
She still has trouble understanding how death works but Eomma has been very patient and persistent in explaining it to her. We all have an expiration date. This Jungri later finds out, is called death. It’s when our heart stops beating and our brain stops transmitting signals to our whole body. We become nothing, we cease to exist. Uncle Jongsu - he refuses to be called Grandpa even though he’s the same age as Grandma Rosa so she calls him Uncle - peacefully passed away and they just returned from his funeral.
Appa immediately went to the bedroom and refused to talk to anyone for almost the whole day, even Eomma, which Jungri finds weird and also a bit sad. Appa comes to Eomma for everything, something that constantly annoyed her since she always has to fight with him to get Eomma’s attention, so this behaviour was out of character for her father. Jungri thinks it means something to Eomma too since it was the first time her mother looked at her father’s retreating figure in an expression that she would later associate as wistful. Eomma has never looked at Appa in that way before. Little did seven year old Jungri know that exact expression would linger on for the years to come.
----
Ahn Jungri is 9.
She noticed that they haven’t eaten a meal together, all three of them, Appa, Eomma and herself, for a while. It was probably because her mother has gotten very busy this year. Appa explained that she has almost finished her fellowship, whatever that means, so she’s preparing for a lot of things that seem important in her line of work. Jungri doesn’t feel like eating without Eomma.
“Jungri please eat your food,” Appa pleaded softly with a pout. He always does that whenever he’s trying to get Jungri to follow what he says. Yeah, well she’s nine now, she won’t fall for that trick. But he looks very cute, for an old man, she thinks.
“Eomma says we can’t eat unless everyone is at the table. Eomma isn’t here right? We have to wait for her” she replied nonchalantly.
“She isn’t. Like I said, she’s caught up with work. But do you know what? She’s preparing for a conference and she’s the youngest researcher there!” he replied enthusiastically.
“Is that…..a good thing?”
“It is Jungri-yah, a very good thing and we should be proud of her. Now can you make her proud and finish your dinner?” he asked expectantly. This cheered her up. She knew her mother was a hard worker and reputable, and Appa’s right, she didn’t want to disappoint her mother so she shot a smile at her father and took a bite of the fried rice.
Later that night she discovered that it was a farce.
“I had to tell a white lie to her Gyeoul-ah just to get her to eat. You’re lucky she doesn’t remember about you leaving for conferences,” Jungri overheard her father saying in a stern manner, probably to her mother.
“You’re no stranger to white lies Jeongwon and you’re bothered by it now?”
“I don’t like lying to my daughter,” he said exasperatedly.
“I’m sorry okay I really am. There were two emergency surgeries today and no residents to help out.” her mother replied.
“And you know how I am. I never bring in my phone during surgery,” she continued.
“I know,” she could hear her father’s voice soften.
“But you could’ve told Ikjun or anyone nearby to contact me, love.”
“I know.”
“Why won’t you talk to me about this? I feel very left out lately.”
“I don’t want to trouble you, Jeongwon. You already have enough on your plate. Let me handle this myself okay.” Jungri peeked at the door frame of their bedroom to find her mother staring at her father the way she did when Uncle Jongsu died. It was silent for a few moments before her mother spoke up again.
“Are we done here? I’m tired, love.”
----
The years to come was a series of observing how her parents gradually transitioned from being the overly soppy and lovey-dovey adults you roll your eyes at in public but secretly wish to have later on in life to the increasing passive-aggressive tension they harbored as they struggled further into parenthood and the increasing responsibility in their respective line of work. It was also when she realized that her parents were not just good at their job, they were great, the best if she’d say so herself, and they did too hence why slowly their career started to take precedence over other matters in their life – each other and sometimes Jungri too. She lost count of how many times where she had to take the subway home from school or a taxi from Grandpa Jang’s country club – where Eomma insisted she take tennis lessons because either one of her parents were too caught up with work to remember. The never-ending blaming game that ensued whenever they find out the circumstances – Jungri firmly believes they were both at fault but they were too stubborn to say it out loud, an age thing Jungri considered. How family dinners went from a daily routine to a luxury limited to only festivities and special occasions, such as her birthday. She couldn’t remember the last time the trio celebrated her parents’ birthday together.
The frequent arguments that they’d have. When she was younger the arguments never lasted long, usually resolved by playful pecks warm embraces and intimate apologies, but the ones now seem to be a competition on who’ll have the last word and never seem to end unless one of them leaves - Eomma for the hospital or Grandpa Jang’s or Appa to Grandma Rosa’s. Did they ever resolve them? Jungri knew better than to ask.
Despite everything, they’d still put up a strong front, in front of their friends, workmates and prying family. She wasn’t sure why they did that if they can barely stand each other, was it for their sake or hers? Whatever it was, a warm summer Sunday was the final nail in the coffin leading to the impending doom of the two people she looked up to the most.
----
Ahn Jungri is finally 18.
She finally graduated. Finally starting university. Finally being able to get away from her parents. But not just yet. She has to sit through this travesty of a party to celebrate her first, celebrating her graduating as class valedictorian, with the highest test scores in the nation and one of the 100 students accepted for early admission to Johns Hopkins, and her own father was nowhere to be found. She really didn’t want to be bothered by it but she couldn’t help it. She was hurt. She could forgive the missed birthdays, the sudden meetings during her tennis matches - she played for the state team but did that even matter?, and even for being two hours late to her graduation but this. This wasn’t even anywhere committal, it was at their own home where he used to refer to it as ‘his favorite place in the world’ and he’s still not here.
He eventually showed up, pissed drunk and hugging everyone present before passing out as he reached over to Eomma. The party was cut short and everyone bid their farewells, some more emotional than others especially Aunt Songhwa and Uncle Ikjun who couldn’t make it to the airport for her send-off in a few days. The last piece of decorations were finally put down - the homemade banner that said ‘Congratulations Unnie’ made by Uncle Seokhyeong and Aunt Minha’s twins, Minhee and Minju with an adorable drawing of the Johns Hopkins Blue Jays. It was a sweet sentiment by the twins, whom she babysitted often since her parents were never home anymore. Eomma was storing the last of the dinnerware when Appa stirred awake from the sofa, groaning hard to indicate how hungover he was. Well, he can deal with it on his own or Eomma. Eomma gave her one of the looks, a look Jungri’s seen a million times before, her telepathic way of informing her daughter to leave her and her father alone. Jungri rolled her eyes at the two and made her way upstairs, she slammed her door and tiptoed down the stairs and silently plopped down on the second bottom stairs.
It’s an awful habit she’s aware of to be constantly eavesdropping on her parents but ever since they’ve started fighting often, she couldn’t help herself. The two would always pretend nothing’s wrong the next day and she hated that, so so much. It was fine when she was 9 and oblivious but they kept on pretending as the years went by thinking they’re successful in fooling her. She wouldn’t mind if they told her upfront they were having problems, everyone does, but the lack of acknowledgement on both parties of the downward spiral of their relationship was something painful to watch.
“You could’ve picked any other day to hold this party, why today?” Jungri heard her father ask bitterly. The bitter tone has been a permanent fixture ever since the passing of Grandma Rosa this day exactly one year ago. Jungri knows how much they meant to one another and how heavy the loss was, but Appa made no efforts to cope with it healthily and wouldn’t let anyone in. Not his friends, his god children, Jungri and not even his wife who’s been there for him every step of the way. He resorted to spending extremely long hours in the hospital and spent the remainder of the night at any place serving alcohol. He started smoking again too, much to her mother’s dismay.
“We talked about this, Jeongwon. It was the only date everyone was free on and you agreed. But you didn’t even bother to show up. You’re Jungri’s dad for heaven’s sake! How could you have missed this!"
“But still! It’s the anniversary of her passing!”
“If you bothered to be here you would’ve known that your eldest brother led the simple jesa ceremony before the rest of the guests came.” she said solemnly.
“Again, we discussed this. Do you never listen to what I say anymore?”
No one spoke for a bit.
“It seems like you haven’t in a while.”
“Gyeoul-ah, please,” he said, reaching for her hands and she immediately backed away.
“Look at us Jeongwon. What happened? When did everything start falling apart? Why didn’t we do anything? We could’ve patched things up before it got worse but we just let ourselves fall apart at the seams.”
“You don’t mean that do you?”
“We haven’t had a proper conversation in what, years? We literally devoted ourselves to our jobs and we’re basically estranged with our only daughter! Don’t you see? She’s moving as far away as she can from us!” Gyeoul’s voice slowly cracked.
“Gyeoul.”
“I used to look at you and I saw nothing but sunshine, I felt nothing but happiness and contentment. But now I -”
“What?”
“Finish your sentence Gyeoul.” Jeongwon said firmly.
“I don’t see it anymore Jeongwon. The sunshine. It’s not there anymore and I don’t know what to do about it.” she said, desperately trying to keep her composure and not break down right then and there.
“So you don’t love me anymore? Just like that?” Jeongwon asked, choking on the words as if trying to hold back his tears.
“That’s not it all. I love you Jeongwon. So so much . I just don’t like you anymore,” Gyeoul said softly, on the verge of tears, slowly feeling her heart breaking piece by piece with every word said.
Jungri didn’t hear much conversation afterwards and peered closer to see if her parents were okay. This was the only time she felt bad about her bad habit, knowing that it wasn’t a conversation her parents would want anyone else hearing. She peeked carefully and found her parents in each other’s embrace. She could hear her mother’s quiet sobs and sniffles as her father tenderly stroked Eomma’s head - something Jungri has seen him do countless times before especially when her mother came home from work exhausted or after a heated argument with Jungri. To Jungri’s utter dismay this would be the last time she sees her parents in such close proximity.
The morning after, it was as if the events she heard and witnessed last night were non-existent. Her parents took her to her favorite brunch place, treated her to whatever she desired at one of Grandpa Jang’s trademark shopping malls - she settled on last minute supplies for university, dragged her to one of her favorite places in the city, Insadong as they went in gallery after gallery admiring the pieces up for display and ended the day eating what her parents call ‘trash food’ which just means the oily snacks sold at the stalls nearby as they strolled around the Han River catching the sunset.
At home, they waited for her as she washed up and tucked her in bed before joining her at one end of the bed respectively. As her father brushed her hair softly at one side, her mother on the opposite side slowly took both her hands and gently told her they were getting a divorce. She’s hardly surprised since she saw it coming for years, she shouldn’t be worked up about it, but even so she couldn’t help herself as she slowly cried into her mother’s arms, releasing all the pent up anger she held about her parents’ relationship.
----
She left for Baltimore a few days later.
Eomma sent a picture of the view from her new home in Sokcho a week later. She was temporarily stationed at Yulje’s Sokcho branch as she was selected to be in charge of the aftermath of a harmful infection surrounding the children there. The home was by the sea Eomma said and Jungri can’t help but recall Aunt Songhwa telling her in passing that Appa used to dream of settling down in a similar area, where the sea is visible everywhere and he could go surfing whenever he wanted. After meeting Eomma, she was added to that equation. It’s a shame he didn’t get a chance to realize that dream.
----
Ahn Jungri just turned 23.
She’s officially a med school graduate and to celebrate her graduation and imminent return back to Korea, her parents decided they would go on a trip together. And trips in their jurisdiction meant that the invitation was automatically extended to her second family, Appa’s infamous friend group and Eomma’s siblings and best friends, so here they all were, in Hawaii of all places.
It’s their last night here and everyone was making the best out of it. The younger kids were splashing each other and playing around in the pool, supervised by Uncle Seokhyeong and Aunt Minha. The older kids were probably hiding from the parents in the villa after Jungri and Soojung - Uncle Junwan’s eldest daughter - helped them sneak out a bottle of champagne and a few bottles of beer from the open bar. Uncle Junwan and Aunt Songwha were still at the outdoor dining table scarfing down their second - or was it third? - helping of the delicacies prepared. Aunt Iksun and Uncle Ikjun were on the makeshift dance floor, being their usual, at times weird selves.
Jungri was sitting at one of the benches taking in everything. It’s been a while since she saw everyone together like this and she didn’t realize how much she missed it. A soft tap on the shoulder broke her out of her reverie and she found her boyfriend occupying the empty seat. Park Joonyoung. The first person she met in orientation. Her first love. They were always at each other’s neck for the first semester of university but eventually became closer, after he ran into her and consoled her after a phone call with Eomma that left her homesick and in tears. By sophomore year, they started to date. Obviously there were objections from Appa since he didn’t appreciate the fact Joonyoung was the son of Park Minguk, a renowned GS surgeon - current head - at a rival hospital group but after spending Chuseok together a few years back he slowly warmed up to him. Eomma was much more accepting of him, even if they started to bond based on her endless enquiries on his father’s research.
“What’s on your mind babe?” he asked, handing her a glass of water.
“Just everything and everyone I guess. Have you seen my parents by the way?”
He nodded softly and gestured to the makeshift dance floor and there they were, the unpredictable pair dancing slowly to what was playing in the background. To a random passerby, they might’ve looked like long-time lovers but Jungri knew better. She let out a sigh.
“Wild to think they were once in love, huh?” she said pensively.
“Were?” he replied in disbelief.
“Look closely. I reckon they’re still very much in love, Jungri.” he said assuringly.
After paying more attention, it was obvious they were in their own little world. Eomma’s probably laughing at one of his lame jokes, just as Appa reached out to tuck a strand of loose bangs behind her ear. As her laughter died down, they continued to sway to the song, which Jungri realized was what they played at their wedding. She only knew because at one point Appa wouldn’t stop playing it around the house in an attempt to cheer Eomma up after forgetting to get her Eggdrop sandwiches.
And there it was. Brief but reassuring, the expression that both of her parents had. The one she’s accustomed to seeing every day as she passes by the corridor with a frame of her parents wedding photo propped up. The one Appa has when he steals glances at Eomma eating at the dining table. The one Eomma has when they’re hanging out by the living room and he tells them of his recovering patients. The one they both have when they’re staring whenever the other one isn’t looking. The expression of two fools being completely head over heels for each other. And in that fleeting moment, Jungri would let herself believe in her lover’s statement. That her parents were still very much in love with each other.