Agent: Jaehyun Baek

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SEOUL, YEAR G-19

My early childhood was spent mostly chasing the footsteps of my brother. He was six years older than me, and had already blazed a brilliant, difficult to follow trail. He was tall, handsome, smart, good at sports, and popular at school. He had a brightly charismatic, friendly personality that drew people to him, whereas I was shy and withdrawn. Like others I was spellbound by his perfection, but as his brother, I was constantly compared to him and found lacking. Everything seemed to come easily to him. He was top ranked in all his classes and still had time to participate in sports clubs throughout the year and have a slew of short lived relationships with beautiful girls.

I looked up to him as the perfect role model. My parents were certainly not up for the task. My father spent whatever money he could gambling at the pachinko machines or buying alcohol to drown his sorrows. When my mother tried to hide some for necessities, he would yell and storm around our tiny apartment in a destructive frenzy until she relented and let him have it.

My parents were the only ones who my brother didn't seem to get along with. His blamed my mother for enabling our father, and hated our father for being a gambling wastrel and an abusive scumbag. In his teens, they pressured him into getting a part time job, then took away all his earnings, ostensibly for "necessities". I suppose appeasing our father was considered a necessity, then.

The moment he turned eighteen, he took his scholarship and left for university, never looking back. In his haste to cut ties with my parents, he left me behind. Despite me being barely thirteen, my father, who had grown accustomed to my brother's supplementary income, started pressuring me to contribute. But who would hire a scrawny, ill fed and ill dressed child like me?

So I tried to contribute the only way I could figure out. No one ever noticed a small, meek child like me. Their gaze slid over me as though I was part of the scenery, and for all the dirt and grime on me, I might as well have been. Neither did they notice my hands, darting into their pockets to relieve them of their wallets and other valuables.

If the man who owned the pawnshop down the street was ever suspicious of my constant visits, he never said anything. My father's constant state of debt was well known in the neighborhood. After my brother left my father had begun searching for bigger gambles and other sponsors to loan him cash. Unfortunately with his credit the only ones willing to loan him any money were loan sharks and gangsters.

In the first two years after he left, I was able to keep in contact with my brother. He had been the one bright light in my life, after all. At first he let me, and he would talk about his university life. I mostly listened to him talk because I had not much to say that wasn't news to him (other than the thievery, but I didn't want him to know that). Those conversations are some of my best memories of him. He seemed happy in university, and it seemed that every time I called he had a new story to tell. Long after the call ended I would lay awake, wishing that I too could attend university soon.

One day after a call, my dad happened to be home. It was unusual to see him at night unless he was throwing a fit so I hadn't realized he was home. "Was that Taejun?" he asked.

I shook my head. Taejun had told me not to let our father know that he could be contacted. My father flew into a rage at the obvious lie.

Immediately I raised my arms to protect my face and head as he rained down clumsy blows at me. He cursed. "Who else could a brat like you be talking to?"

He must have had a bad night because he started kicking as well. "You're just like that worthless, ungrateful piece of dog shit! That boy has no respect. Turned his back on family. Never! Turn! Your! Back! On! Family!" He punctuated every word with a kick towards whichever part of me I couldn't protect at that moment. He panted, exhausted by his own fury. "Next time he calls, ask him why he's not sending any money back."

He stormed down the hall and the yelling continued a room later.

I retreated into our bedroom to nurse my bruises. I tried to do my schoolwork but it was difficult to focus with the noises of my father yelling and tearing apart the house. Sometime later the noise finally died down. Either my mother had caved again or there truly was nothing.

My mother knocked softly on the door and entered. Her hair was messed and she too sported freshly blossoming bruises and scratches. Much of my fathers fury must have been turned on her. She pulled out one of our threadbare blankets and laid down on the floor next to me (we had no furniture in the bedroom). She sighed and closed her eyes. Those eyes were always rimmed with dark circles, either from lack of sleep or lack of peace.

"Jaehyun," she murmured. It broke my heart to hear her voice, so heavy with long suffering and sorrow. "Please ask Taejun to send money home."

I didn't want to, but I told her I would try.

——

The next day I took the day off school to try to steal some money to appease my father. My earnings that day must have satisfied him because he simply grunted and disappeared as he always did without bringing up my errant brother. Mother and I slept peacefully that night.

I tried to keep earning but it was never easy, and whenever I was caught I had to run. I couldn't risk being caught and arrested. One time I didn't run fast enough, but the man was happy to enact his own justice on me over taking me to the police station. It was a relief honestly. A few bruises were much easier to deal with than a fine.

Of course I couldn't keep up with the rate my father gambled the money away. One day I came home and both he and my mother were waiting for me. While he glared at me with reproach, her eyes were downcast, unable to meet mine. Her lip was bloody and split.

"Call him." His fierce demand did not allow for any resistance. So I did.

"Jae," my brother answered. "You're calling early today." In the background I could hear happy chatter and commotion. It almost sounded like a restaurant.

"Yes," I tried to keep my voice light and unaffected even as my father continued to glare at me.

"I didn't expect your call. Give me a moment, will you? Hey guys, I've got to take this call." A chorus of voices cheerfully protested in the background. One particularly loud voice cut through. "Get back soon, oppa!"

Taejun laughed appeasingly at the other end of the phone. A few moments later the background noise had disappeared. He had a cell phone? This whole time I thought I had been calling his dorm.

"What's on your mind? Or did you just want to chat?" Despite having to leave his party to talk to his kid brother, he didn't sound annoyed or rushed at all.

I desperately wanted to chat but I could see my fathers hands balling up into a fist. I noticed then the blood on his knuckles. I swallowed but my throat felt dry as I choked out my next words. "D-Dad wants to know why you haven't… haven't been sending money back."

He seemed stunned by the question. It had been nearly two years since he left, and I had never talked about dad, or money, in all that time. "He's watching you right now, isn't he?"

I was too afraid to speak, but he could figure out the answer from my silence. "Shit," he swore. He was quiet on the other end for a few more moments. My father shifted impatiently.

"Look, Jae… I'm a full time university student." His voice was so quiet I could barely hear him. "I'm not making any money."

I didn't know what to say. I felt angry and incredulous at his reply. He wasn't making money and yet he was going to restaurants and had a cell phone? I couldn't remember if we had ever gone to a restaurant before, and we certainly didn't have enough money for cell phones.

Maybe Taejun could sense my disappointment in his answer. "I've… I've got to go," he said quickly. He hung up without another word.

My father could probably hear the line go quiet. His face darkened in anger and he started to stand. I still regret what I did then.

I ran.

My father was far too out of shape to pursue me, but still his curses and shouts chased me out the house and down the street. I ran and ran, not knowing where I should go. When at last I could not run anymore, I collapsed against a wall in a dirty alley, sobbing for my breath. I knew that my flight had probably doomed my mother to bear the brunt of my father's rage. I felt the weight of the guilt of betraying both my mother and my brother weighing down on me. It seemed to physically push me down and I slid down the wall, not caring what filth i had probably sat myself down in.

I hadn't cried in years, but I did then. Tears were worthless and didn't make anything better but I still couldn't hold them back. They came pouring out between my hands like a river, painted black by the soot of my fingers. I sobbed like a child, but I felt all the stress and responsibilities of an adult crushing me down. It wasn't fair that I had been born into this life. It wasn't fair that I, barely a teenager, had to make money so that my father wouldn't beat me or my mother. It wasn't fair that my weak willed mother wouldn't leave my abusive father or stand up for her sons. It wasn't fair that my brother had managed to escape, and yet had left me behind to take his place on a pedestal I could never ascend to. For the first time in my life, I truly felt as though I was alone. I didn't know what to do anymore.

My tears suddenly choked to an embarrassed halt when I heard footsteps stop, turn, and walk into the alley. I cast a small, scared glance upwards. Immediately I whipped my face back down. It was Park Bonghwan. He was from the Seven Directions gang, one of the gangs my father owed money to. Mr Park was the one tasked with keeping tabs on my father. He often visited, and though he was polite enough to my mother when my father wasn't home, he was terrifyingly wrathful when he was.

I cowered down into a ball, hoping he hadn't recognised me in my quick upward glance. It was for naught. "Oi, Baek Jaehyun-ya, don't be a disrespectful brat. Aren't you going to greet me?"

I scrambled to wipe the tears off my face and bow. I greeted him as formally as I could, but hated how my voice still trembled as I did so. I continued to plant my gaze at the ground before his loafers.

He hummed. "I thought you were a tough kid. I've never seen you cry and everyone in the neighbourhood knows you cover your scumbag father's ass. How old are you now? Fifteen?" He sucked a long drag off his cigarette. I didn't know what he wanted, so I stayed quiet. "Damn. What are you crying for now?"

He tapped me on the forehead impatiently, so I reluctantly looked up. Mr Park had a surprisingly sympathetic expression as he examined my face, discoloured by tears, soot, and bruises. "Your dad giving you a hard time?"

I looked away. The answer was obvious.

He heaved a great, cigarette scented sigh. "Truth be told, he's been giving us a hard time too. Men like your dad, they're bad for business. they keep accumulating interest and never even pay off the principal. And still have the audacity to keep asking to borrow. It's ridiculous."

My gaze returned to his feet and I could feel my heart nervously pounding. Somehow I felt as though I was standing on the edge of a cliff, moments from leaping off. "Mister…" I started. His gaze snapped to me sharply and I almost lost my nerve. I dropped into a low bow. "Mister Park… please let me work for you."

My request seemed to stun him, as he was quiet for a few moments. I held the bow and didn't know what expression he was making. "Alright alright, that's enough!" He gripped my shoulder and pulled me upright again. Now I could see his face, and he seemed upset. "You're still a kid," he hissed. "It's way too early for you to get involved in my line of work."

I hadn't really wanted to join a gang, but somehow the answer still disappointed me. "Go home for now," he urged. "Don't let me catch you asking that to any other gangsters, you hear?"

I was relieved to be excused but had no desire to go home. I bid him farewell politely and scrambled off, as directionless as I had started.

Eventually my stomach began to protest with hunger. Our family didn't eat breakfast, and I had been out all day trying to win a score. The sun had long dipped below and left the day in darkness, and I had been wandering on my feet longer than it had been up. I ducked into a convenience store and stood wistfully in front of the refrigerator full of heat able, ready to eat meals. They were relatively affordable, even for a slum dog like me, but at the moment I didn't have any money.

"Excuse me," a man said as he brushed past me. I dipped my head politely as he passed and he smiled. He wasn't yet aware that he had just paid for my meal.

Before he could finish browsing, I snapped up a samgak (the cheapest option) and headed to the counter. "Fourteen hundred won, please."

Luckily the man did have cash in his wallet. Most people used AirPay or cards now. I paid quickly, then hurried away. My benefactor was heading towards the counter too now. I pretended to stumble over something as I left. The man was now nervously patting himself down, searching for his missing wallet. "Ahjussi, is this yours?" I pointed at the wallet I had dropped.

"Yes, yes it is," he said in a relief as he scooped it up. "Thank you, young man." He smiled at me again.

It should have been me thanking him. I made off with my ill gotten samgak and headed to a nearby park to eat it. As I sat alone on the park bench, I wondered why I had given the wallet back. In the wallet there had been a picture of the man smiling broadly with two young boys at an amusement park. One was a little older than the other. They seemed happy.

I chewed slowly to make every bite last longer. My mind filled with idle thoughts as I did so. What would my life have been like if I had had a father like that? One who took his kids to amusement parks and loved them enough to carry around a picture of them with him at all times. The mother hadn't been in the picture but then again she was probably the one taking it.

Despite my efforts at prolonging my meal, the samgak steadily disappeared. My stomach felt a little less hollow than before. Still at a loss with what to do with myself, I climbed the playground castle. At the top level I sat there, wondering I could ever mend my relationship with my brother with my father looming over my shoulder. I doubted it. He had the right idea in getting out and going to university. That route was no longer open to me. My lack of attendance meant my grades were well below standard, and it wasn't likely that I'd be able to test into a good university, let alone win a scholarship like my brother had. My family certainly didn't have the money to send me to university without one.

Inexplicably, I felt angry that my brother had taken such an easy way out. He really had turned his back on his family the moment he could. My father deserved it, I couldn't blame him there. Maybe my mother did too, for allowing things to get this bad. But I certainly didn't deserve to have been left behind. With them.

I stared into the slide's yawning yellow maw. I remembered coming here when I was younger, when things weren't as bad. I had been afraid to go down the slide. "Don't be afraid," Taejun had said. "I'll catch you at the end."

Kids behind me were getting impatient so I swallowed my fear and sent myself hurtling through the yellow vortex. The speed and dip took my breath away, but as I shot out the end of it, Taejun caught me, just as he had promised. He set me down on my feet and brushed me off. "Told you! I've got you, Jae. Hyung will always be there for you." He smiled and I believed him then.

For some reason I felt compelled to go into the slide, childish as it was. The speed and dip weren't as extreme as I had remembered, and I coasted to a smooth stop at the end, catching myself with my own feet. I laid back into the slide. I slept there like that that night, with my feet hanging out awkwardly at the end. I couldn't care less.