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"Do you promise to always stay together, hyung?"
"…I promise."
Some promises are the most painful of lies.
ꔗ
The world of entertainment is brutal and cutthroat.
Kim Dokja knew that from the start, even as a child. Some would say he was born into that world. Made for it. Kim Dokja would say he was coerced.
He was used to the light and the suffocation of interaction, the contracts and the dotted lines. Kim Dokja was used to the iron grip on his father's hand on his shoulder. He was used to smiling.
If there was a positive he could mention, it was that he was made a fantastic liar. He could read people and the intentions they hid so poorly under pleasantries and faux enthusiasm. They all had the same goal. Internal connections were easy to tie with the child of a director praised in the middle.
Kim Dokja hated it, but trapped under his father's ownership made it impossible to run away.
His mother was an author. The stories she told him were his life. And stories made out of a murdered man and an abused woman sold itself into the media with such speed Kim Dokja couldn't breathe through the trauma.
Scandals don't stop when you're young or in pain, and reporters loved a good story.
Kim Dokja didn't ask why. Or screamed. Or cried.
He knew the role they wanted him to play.
Shackled with his mother's imprisonment, rather than his father's clutches, Kim Dokja spoke out for the first time.
ꔗ
It's not a surprise when he's placed in a residential institute. His aunt's look of disgust was enough of a hint to go off of. She neither had the time nor the heart to care for another child. The wording she used was a lot more acceptable, but he wasn't fooled.
What is a surprise though, is when a couple comes in and Kim Dokja is the boy they ask for.
His dead eyes come alive when they bent down. They don't touch him or ask about his situation, they tell him their names and ask for his.
Call us Persephone and Hades. We want to be your new parents.
kim Doka doesn't understand.
The process for adoption is long and expensive, but they never fail to reassure him that this is what they want. His heart does funny things when they say that stuff, so he nods a little and doesn't speak.
When the time comes and he finally takes their hand, listening to them telling him of his new home, his heart is strangely light.
ꔗ
There's this boy he meets at his new school.
He's plain and cheery, and the only one who doesn't avoid him. His classmates whisper rumors when he's there or not. He's not exactly human in their eyes.
The boy insists on talking to him, sharing lunches and walking to class. The whispers are loud. Kim Dokja doesn't say anything. Sung Jinwoo doesn't ask.
Maybe he's waiting. He wasn't sure. It's been weeks and their routine hasn't been broken yet.
"Let's hang out."
"Do you want to go to the roof?"
"What's our next class again?"
Really, it's the same every day. The sun shines in drapes and the memories sift together like chapters of a new book.
Kim Dokja doesn't really know what to think of him. He's never had a friend his age before. Sung Jinwoo feels like someone who can leave at any moment, a dandelion clinging on to its stems. Yet he doesn't. steadfast and dependable. He stays with Kim Dokja.
He doesn't know how long the wind will allow it to stay.
ꔗ
"I want to be an actor."
The wind rustles past his ears, pitched above the voice of his only friend. Determined, sudden. Kim Dokja should've known this from the admirable stares he sometimes sent his way when Jinwoo thought he wasn't looking.
"Like you, hyung."
He closes his eyes, swallowing a flutter as Jinwoo's hand sinks into his.
He wants to convince him otherwise. He doesn't.
Kim Dokja just hopes the shackles he wears for it are more breathable than the ones still wrapped over his wrists.
ꔗ
His parents and Sung Jinwoo's know each other, more acquaintances than friends. Amiable. A good relationship. Still, Persephone's eyes are still crested into somber when she tells him they have to move. Hades watches his expression carefully from behind his wife.
"Okay," he says, the coldness in his chest opening with more edges broken off. He doesn't want to leave. Leaving means losing the one person he's formed a bond with. He knows the real reason why they're moving, the pestering flies hounding outside their house enough to feel unsafe. His mother's book has ended up on the forefront of the media's hivemind once again after years of it being published.
He's an only child, mature and with the past engrained on the walls of his barrier. He knows this is what needs to be done.
But Kim Dokja is not as unflappable as he liked to think he was. Going over to Sung Jinwoo's house and watching as his expression crumbles like kicked sand sends his heart spiraling wildly in his chest cavity. Jinwoo's hand fits neatly in his grasp, shaking, a promise worn into his palm Kim Dokja never meant to break.
"Please don't go."
The fading summer skies are a telltale sign of something changing, the day paling into a watercolor blur he wades through with difficulty. Nothing is ever meant to stay the same.
Maybe, it was childhood that was ending.
Kim Dokja's dreams are stolen away that night, and every night after.
ꔗ
As the years flow by, the Kim Dokja that is an adult can breathe easy.
His hands are free and he has the decision to be hidden out of sight. His parents, loved and loving, remind him that he doesn't have to hurt anymore. They're influential, protective. No one crosses him. He understands now. Kim Dokja cherishes the sole portrait Persephone has of her and his biological mother. Old friends.
He doesn't leave that world fully. Instead, he challenges himself by taking another position. One meant for the background. Not the spotlight forced on him when he was young. His parents are supportive. He couldn't be more thankful.
A new name slowly creeps into the entertainment world. An old one he recognizes. He never thought he'd come across him again. Though, he was always hard to shake off his back. Like a duckling too attached to leave you behind.
He breathes, a little worried, more flustered by his own eagerness.
How much did you change too, old friend?
ꔗ
"Kim Dokja-hyung."
A low, smooth voice, irreparably shaky. The memories poor in, an old book peeled open by its innumerable pages.
He's taller now. Handsome. Eyes wide and shining. His face is still kind, shaped softly. His colors, though dark, do nothing to dim the brightness of his expression.
They're alone, just them. Kim Dokja smiles. He ignores the wetness of his own voice, eyes raking that strong body. "Jinwoo-yah."
"You're here."
"I'm here."
Jinwoo's arms closes around his middle, unhesitating, relieved. Kim Dokja doesn't dare think of them as shackles, gentle as they are. He relaxes, secured against his old friend.
It didn't matter if nothing was the same. Change could be good too.