Alone Together [RIIZE]

1. Memories

Sungchan thinks.

He thinks about everything he's ever done and every decision that has lead him to where he is now.

He thinks about the time when he was three years old and wrote on the walls of his parents' house and lied about it. Because he lied, they threw out his stuffed animals. They shoved his only friends in garbage bags and made him watch as they tossed them into the large trashcans behind their restaurant.

He thinks about when he was nine years old and about how his mother broke down crying in her closet when she saw him dancing around in her work skirts after school. She didn't chalk it up to childhood curiosity as maybe she should have, she saw it as a horrible, deplorable act and decided to put Sungchan in an all-boys school after that.

He thinks about when he was thirteen and his father became sick. And his mother cursed and screamed more often, stressed and confused. But Sungchan knew he couldn't really blame her, although he wanted to. Because she was doing her best.

Her best just happened to be beating Sungchan and screaming at him for every little thing. At least, that's what he guessed.

He starts to think about other things too, happier things. Because if he doesn't, he'll start to spiral. And he knows that.

He thinks about running around in the woods, getting himself lost. That was a lot of fun, except for the times when he would get too deep within the trees and have a panic attack with nobody around, making his cousin call the police... which happened more than once.
Fun times.

He thinks about how yummy sushi is. That's something good, right? And how good ice cream is, too. He feels queasy when he realizes that his only good thoughts are about food and not like, people. Normal folks would have thought of a nice person in their life and Sungchan thought of food. He didn't like what that meant.

So, he tried thinking about people. And then he thinks about his parents dying. There's an odd knot in his throat and he swallowed it down fast. He doesn't know why it bothers him so much, considering that he hadn't liked his parents very much.

His parents lead his thoughts to their restaurant. It leads Sungchan to think about the street he lived on before. He thinks about his home in Seoul and then the old ladies down the block with their hat store, then the cigarettes that his father used to smoke.

It leads him to think about fire.
He regrets that.

It amazes Sungchan how every thought and action he's ever had and ever taken has lead to where he is now. He thinks a lot about where he'd be if the smallest little thing had changed. He thinks a lot about where he'd be in another universe, because he doesn't like this one very much.

Everything so far has brought Sungchan to where he is now, in an old apartment building in Los Angeles, U.S.A with nothing but his backpack, cell phone, carry-on bag, and the clothes on his back.

Laying in the dark, unable to sleep at all.

Because he was in a new environment and his neighbors above him kept screaming and stomping on their floor.

Because he and his cousin can't afford to live in Seoul anymore and had to move without much to begin with.

Because they couldn't bring anything but a few bags of essentials -and that really tore Sungchan up.

Because today had been the hard part -evading immigration officers and somehow managing to sign Sungchan up for school- and now his first day of 11th grade was tomorrow morning.

Because he was far from home, away from the few people he knew, away from the language he spoke...

Sungchan had learned a little bit of English in classes back home, but certainly not enough. His cousin, Jungwoo knew a fair amount of English to get by, but that was because his American internet boyfriend was letting the pair of cousins stay with him and his brother in L.A. so that they could get back on their feet. But even then, Jungwoo's English was limited, too.

And now he had to attend an American high school. He couldn't sleep at the thought -would it be like the movies? Would he be alone forever because he couldn't find a clique? Would there be mean girls and jock boys and nerdy kids with glasses and overalls like the comedies? What were the classrooms like? Would some lunatic bring a gun to class?

He's never had to worry about things like that, not in Korea.

Sungchan gasped suddenly, sitting up in bed. He heard a thumping noise outside and some yelling from down the street. Creaky floorboards and giggling from his neighbors upstairs. It made him groan and throw a pillow over his head in frustration. He could hear everything all the time, all at once.

Jungwoo and his boyfriend were totally fine, asleep across the hall. He didn't get it. Jungwoo was in a new place, too. He had to find work soon, was he not stressed like Sungchan? Maybe finding a job was easier than going to high school. Or maybe it wasn't and Sungchan was just weird.

Sungchan sighed and pulled out his phone and grabbed his earbuds, turning on some Chase Atlantic song and shutting his eyes. With the outside noises washed away, Sungchan's eyelids became heavy with sleep.

The move to California had been rough and sudden enough. He hoped that after some rest, tomorrow would be a little easier.