Chapter Text
Simon Gwon
“Dear Mom, you have cradled me since I was young.
Here every step, here to catch me whenever I fell,
Always the first to take me up in loving arms.
Your baby boy.”
“You have raised me my whole life,
And to you, Mom, I’m sorry.
I don’t think I’ll be your baby boy forever.
…
I’m sorry for disappointing you when I finally grow up.
But you can’t keep me in this loving cage forever.”
Whenever Simon thinks back to his childhood, his very formative years, Mom is the first person to come to mind.
Mom was always there.
Mom would feed him, soothe him, protect him, teach him, love him.
He was her baby boy.
…
He remembered when he first entered kindergarten. He hated it.
All the kids were too loud for him, too dirty and sloppy, too wild, and he found himself having trouble making friends.
He sat through the first day barely moving from his seat, or he’d go to the corner of the room, away from the other kids, and play by himself.
Mom was there to comfort him when he came home. Holding him and explaining to him that kids are often wild and energetic, especially the ones who weren’t taught proper discipline
She wanted to homeschool him, but her job wouldn’t allow her the time, and she still wanted to make sure he was surrounded by people his age.
Eventually, he got used to the loudness of his classmates, even though he didn’t quite like it. Most kindergarten days he would do his work, and spend the rest of the time alone in some corner of wherever, waiting for the school day to end.
His kindergarten teacher once held a parent-teacher conference to discuss this aspect of Simon. She was worried that he might not develop the social skills needed as he grew older.
Mom shut it down instantly, enraged by the idea that the teacher was saying that Simon might be lacking in some respect.
When Simon went to primary school, Mom put him in the same school Scarlet and Sven were attending. A prestigious private school filled with prestigious rich kids.
She was relieved that he was in primary school - he was around more…well-adjusted kids.
Simon didn’t have the heart to tell her that the children were just as loud, just as annoying, just as obnoxious.
…
Simon remembered primary school well.
Mom introduced him to Sven’s friends, even though Simon could tell that Sven wasn’t very happy about it at all.
Still, Mom wanted Simon to at least have a friend group, she was worried he was spending too much time alone.
Sven, obviously, disliked the idea at first, but seemed to come around rather quickly, letting Simon in on all the shenanigans he and Zach would do.
Zach, for one, seemed to think of Simon as some sort of enigma. A puzzle to solve. He pestered him a lot in the early friendship stages, before they ultimately fell into a weird, but satisfactory dynamic that somehow managed to hold up all the way from middle school to college.
Simon didn’t know if Sven genuinely liked him in his friendship circle, or if he just kept him around because Mom said so and it was easier to tease him like this.
Surprisingly, as Simon got older, he realized that it was actually more of the former.
Although, Sven always tended to look at him in a weird way. A look in his eyes that held something Simon couldn’t quite understand yet.
…
Simon remembered the day he caught the flu.
He was 7 at the time, and it was his first major illness.
He didn’t know where he picked it up, probably sometime while they were at the summer fair.
It was terrible for him at the time. He was sneezing all the time, his voice was hoarse, his nose was always runny, and it was like he was permanently congested.
Sven laughed at him and called him Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.
He remembered Mom there.
Giving him food and drink and medicine, fixing his hair and soothing him to sleep.
She had postponed some sort of contract to stay at home and be with him.
He had to stay in his room the whole day, and Mom stayed with him.
Sven came to check on him when he got home, staring at him from the edge of the bed curiously.
Simon felt like Sven wanted to laugh at him, but surprisingly, he didn’t.
Instead, a tentative hand reached forward and pressed against Simon’s head, checking for temperature.
Sven seemed odd, like he was unsure what to do with himself now that his brother was sick like this.
He brought Simon his favourite book, even though he couldn’t read that well now that he was sniffling all the time.
Quickly understanding that this wasn’t going to work, Sven pulled a chair and sat by Simon, opening the book himself and reading for him.
Even though Sven had trouble pronouncing some of the words, his voice was smooth and confident, and his attempt actually wasn’t as terrible as Simon expected.
Mom seemed proud that they were finally getting along, listening to Sven’s reading with a soft smile.
Simon remembered Mom telling Sven that he was a good brother.
Simon remembered the way Sven’s face lit up after.
Scarlet didn’t come into Simon’s room at all, saying that he was gross and that she didn’t want to get sick.
But she did stay at the foot of the door, fetching things like water and medicine to give to Mom.
…
Simon’s first set of competitions were something he had dreaded.
He knew that he’d have to someday - after all, both of his older siblings competed in events, and Scarlet seemed to bring home some kind of award each time.
But, he didn’t want to compete.
Sure, it showed off his skills to others, and it helped him to improve his skills. But all the preparation it takes, getting up on stage to take that reward, the endless sea of eyes staring at him, that would see any mistake he made - he wasn’t exactly comfortable with that.
It always made his heart beat faster, made his hands clammy and his breathing just a tad bit shallower.
Simon knew for a fact that Dad wouldn’t take this well, so he decided to go to Mom instead.
Mom would understand.
He was her baby boy.
That afternoon, Simon was called into the living room to have a talk with his parents.
Before he even sat down, he saw Dad’s face, and his heart sank.
Disappointment.
He’d never seen this expression directed at him before, and he wanted to shrink into himself.
He should’ve never said anything at all.
He should’ve kept his mouth shut.
Simon knew what was coming, but that didn’t make it any better.
Dad spent the better part of half an hour scolding him for even thinking of not wanting to do competitions.
He was a Gwon, and with such talent at such a young age, it would be a waste to not show it off, to not build it up into something great.
Simon couldn’t not want to compete just because ‘it makes him a bit nervous’.
That was ridiculous, and if he kept that up, he would grow up into a weak man. A coward. A wasted potential.
And no son of his would be anything of the sort.
No, instead, Simon would do more competitions.
The more he was exposed to it, the more that problem of his would go away.
Simon came out of that conversation silent, with a feeling like he was slowly but surely sinking into the tiled floor.
Mom came to console him after, cupping his face and telling him that her and Dad only wanted what was best for him, even if he was a bit harsh.
For the very first time, Simon wondered - ever so briefly - if he should believe what his Mom said.
…
Simon did his competitions.
He ‘got used to it’.
Even when that medal wasn’t at all worth the churning feeling in his gut.
It seemed to be worth it to his parents, though.
It seemed worth it to Mom.
He went with Mom to her studio one day.
She wanted to show off her successful son to her rich Korean friends who had just flown in.
Strange, unfamiliar women cooed and praised him as Mom listed out his accomplishments.
He felt like she was displaying a trophy to gawk at, and that feeling wasn’t something he liked.
Being exposed to people under only his accomplishments felt…almost suffocating.
Like that was everything that was important about him.
All his worth.
He didn’t think he liked that.
But he stayed quiet this time.
He’d learned his lesson.
So, he smiled at the strangers, and tried to soak up their praise like it meant something to him.
He played the part of Mom’s baby boy.
Even if it seemed like she got more out of this than he did.
…
When Simon started his Freshman year of high school, Mom and Father sat him down to talk about his future career path.
He listened numbly, not bothering to talk unless he was spoken to.
It wasn’t like whatever he said would matter, anyway.
He was a Math and Science prodigy. He would do excellently in Mechanical Engineering.
Simon only nodded.
Mechanical Engineering.
That didn’t sound too bad.
Especially since he didn’t have a clue about what he wanted to do.
Mechanical Engineering was the best for him.
Mom and Father knew best for him.
…
As Simon grew into a teenager, he started to have a new perspective on Mom.
He still loved her - she was his Mom after all - and he knew she loved him.
He was her baby boy.
But, she seemed to want to keep him the same.
He’s had the same favourite movie since he was 8.
His favourite colour has always been grey.
He’s never shown an interest in sports.
He’s always liked books.
Simon has always been rather stable.
He’s always liked or disliked the same things, and rarely did he have a change of heart.
He thinks Mom likes that.
The stability of Simon’s stagnant personality.
It made him reliable.
Easy to read.
Easy to plan for.
Mom and Dad have always had a plan for him.
It was in his best interest, they said.
He stayed quiet, followed through on what they wanted.
Mom would always be there at the end to praise him, to congratulate him.
That soft, proud smile on her face as she saw him.
Even though it meant less to him as the years went by.
Even when her love stopped feeling safe and started to feel suffocating.
…
Simon was her baby boy.
Always.