Tae Shin is a simple boy with simple dreams, who likes to hide his half-forgotten past into the shadows of his low self-esteem. Kim JaeHwan is a sole heir to a gigantic multi-billion conglomerate, who likes to reminisce the ghosts of his happy child...
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July, 2004
MaRoo had one hand in his mother's soft hold, and the other one hanging free. His father was talking to someone dressed similar to him. MaRoo looked around. Everyone was dressed the same, black suit, white shirt, everyone had the same grim faces and talked seriously.
He repetitively heard words like 'election', 'votes', 'assembly', 'forfeit' and other things that made no sense.
He looked up at his older brother San HaRoo, who had also started looking like those men. MaRoo looked down, desperate to get away. He let go of his mother's hand and walked away from the party, hands kept in the pockets of his suit.
It felt scruffy, the tie tickled his neck.
MaRoo walked aimlessly, until he reached far from the party lawns. He stood before a swing set, beside which was a slide and a sand pit. There was a kid swinging on the swing. He had blonde hair and was wearing a blue coloured suit. He looked like a foreigner.
MaRoo walked to him and sat down on the swing next to him. The boy lifted his head to look at MaRoo. He had bright green eyes and he was definitely not a Korean. MaRoo had never seen a foreigner in real life before. And he felt ashamed that he couldn't speak English properly.
"Heyo," MaRoo said. "How you?"
"Why would you speak in English to me?" The blond kid started speaking in fluent English and MaRoo silently pushed his swing away from the boy. "I am German, you know. But I can speak Korean. And you're racist."
"Oh.." MaRoo's eyes widened. He had never heard a foreigner speaking Korean before. MaRoo's curiosity peaked. "Why are you here?" He asked.
"Why are you here?" The boy questioned him back.
"It's rude to answer a question by a question." MaRoo scoffed and looked down. The dust had started dirtying his black polished shoes.
"They are boring." The boy pointed his finger over to the lawns. MaRoo turned his head.
"I am San MaRoo. What is your name?" MaRoo asked.
"Yoo YooChan. But call me Chan." The boy smiled warmly. He had a very weird box shaped smile. But nonetheless, MaRoo liked the boy better than those boring adults.
"They are strange." MaRoo mumbled.
"Exactly! I mean, we have the same thoughts! I was made to wear this suit, I don't even want to wear it, it tickles me in the neck." Chan pouted.
"How old are you?" MaRoo asked.
"I will turn 9 in three months." Chan held his nose up high.
"I will turn 10 in four months. I am your Hyung."
"I don't like you. You are taller than me." Chan mumbled and pushed the ground with his feet, and his swing started to move.
