•How long till you start falling apart?•
Min Sehyuk, a new transfer student from the U.S. joins Hanhwa university and entangles himself with the resident bully after defending a student. He becomes the new target, taking each punch with a smile, ask...
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"What do you mean you had to put him down?"
"He caught a viral disease and we couldn't risk the others."
"You could have at least called me!"
"Look kid, I work at a dog shelter so I could provide for my family not because I love dogs." The man scratches his overgrown belly, shaking his head. "Many other dogs are looking for love, find the next one." He says, walking away and waving his hand in the air.
Kihyun grits his teeth and curls his fingers into a fist, his nails digging into his palms. It's been a year since he's been coming to meet the now-dead sheltie, Dirty Paws, as he had named him due to the dark brown fur over his limbs. A friendly dog, always eager to play with Kihyun whenever he came over to the shelter.
The boy's heart constricts as the shelter employee hands him a leather dog collar, with his name engraved on the bone trinket hanging from it. Dirty Paws had been therapeutic for when days were hard for Kihyun, he would snuggle the dog and pass his time teaching him new tricks. But now, all he wants to do is bury himself under his blanket and scream in frustration.
As he reaches the porch of his house, he takes in a deep breath at the sight of luggage standing at the entrance. His father must be back from his business trip. "I should just show him my face and get lost," Kihyun mutters to himself, toeing his shoes.
The entranceway opens into a large hall, where a 12-seater Turkish-styled sofa set is placed, along with a square centerpiece and a pair of curved staircases, each on either side of the hall, leading to the bedrooms of all the family members.
"Where is my father?" Kihyun asks, spotting the head maid loitering around the stairs.
"He's in his study." The older woman bows, hands curtly resting on top of each other. She is in her late fifties and has worked in their house for as long as he remembers. Her hair is tied into a neat bun, her round specs almost tipping down her nose, and visible wrinkles dance with every expression she makes. They are either due to her increasing or perhaps the stress of life announcing its burden.
"Alright." Kihyun's father's study and guest room are side by side on the same floor, near the staircase. As he briskly walks to the study, he finds the door ajar, his father's voice already reaching his ears.
"...no, I don't care," he hears the man say. It's been a rule since childhood that Kihyun wouldn't interrupt his father when he's on a phone call or talking in person. So he waits, ears straining at the next sentence Kang Wooshik utters.
"I have shown him mercy because he's my son. Already reduced his sentence from five years to three. He should be grateful and hand over the documents if he knows what's good for him. He was being disobedient and disrespectful, so I did what I had to."
Kihyun freezes, his fingers slightly trembling as the words sink in. They're talking about his brother, Minwoo. His heart beats faster and his toes curl anxiously as he listens further.
