Chapter Text
Hanseo’s eyes shot wide open. He jumped up from bed, shaking from head to toe, his back drenched in sweat. He turned to his right, exhaling at the sight of his wife sleeping peacefully beside him. It’s okay. Everything’s okay.
His gaze flitted around their bedroom, desperate to focus on the details that made up his present life. Warm yellow-painted walls, the poster of the famous pianist Jo Sungjin hanging by the bedside table, the family pictures sitting in pretty frames on his wife’s desk. He slid out of bed, careful not to disturb his wife. She was a fairly heavy sleeper, but he still wanted to be as quiet as possible. Walking over to the desk, he picked up one of the photos. It was of him, his wife, and their two beautiful daughters: Seoyeon and Nayeon. He couldn’t help but smile, his fear subsiding. His girls meant everything to him. He could stare at them forever. Thankfully, they had inherited his wife’s brains but more and more, he could also see himself in them. Things he used to hate about himself, but grew to accept and even love: his softness, his gentle nature he used to try his best to destroy. They were also the most beautiful little girls in the world, if he could say so himself.
His nightmares were few and far between these days, but without fail, they came to torture him in the days preceding the anniversary. Which was today. Robotically, he reached for his phone, starting his yearly tradition with a simple Naver search of his own name.
“Chairman Jang Hanseo of Babel once again proves to the world his reformed business practices” was the first article that popped up. He clicked on it. It detailed the projects he had undertaken over the years in his efforts to redeem Babel. His hands would never be clean, even if he lived a hundred years, but it was a start. He scrolled down to the comments.
“Image-making at its finest. Babel’s corruption can never be rooted out fully.”
“At least he’s trying. It’s good to see. He’s better than most of the other big CEOs these days.”
“Stop trying to look like such a good person, you bastard. You’re not fooling anyone.”
“He’s even hotter after he got out of prison. Seriously, every year he gets more handsome.”
“I feel sorry for him. Growing up with that kind of brother, can you imagine what kind of life he must have had?”
Hanseo turned away. He was not fishing for sympathy, no. He wasn’t.
By 5:30am, he had brushed his teeth, showered, and made himself a simple breakfast. At 40 years old, he had finally managed to master several brunch items without burning anything. Until he’d had kids, he never really cooked, but after they came along, he felt for the first time in his life that he wanted to make something with his own hands that would make them happy. He quietly ate his avocado and bacon sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. Should he take anything with him when he went out? Would a bottle of sake be too much? No, he didn’t need to take anything. He didn’t deserve it. Washing down his meal with a chug of black coffee, he stood. He took several minutes putting together breakfast for Miri and the kids, leaving them wrapped up for when they woke up.
—
It was 6am when he pulled up to the cemetery. For a long moment, he considered stomping on the gravestone and trashing it. Nah, he’d already done that for the last 6 years. He felt different this year somehow, as if such an act was beneath him now. He opted to spit on the grave, sighing softly before he sat down on the grass beside it. He reached into his jacket pocket for the bag he’d picked up at the grocery store the other day. With shaking hands, he ripped open the bag. Reaching into it, he grabbed a fistful and sprinkled the gummy bears around the stone. He didn’t even know why he’d bought them. Even in death, Hanseok didn’t deserve gummy bears.
He’d never told anyone this, not even Miri, but there was a fucked up part of him that missed his brother. 13 years ago, when his brother died, Hanseo had hoped all the pain and trauma would die with him. There was some amount of comfort in believing that. But he quickly realized that wasn’t the case. It had been over a decade, and he had an amazing life now - a loving family, a network of close friends, and a booming business! So why was he still so miserable sometimes? At least when his brother was around, he could attribute his tortured existence to his brother’s presence. Maybe Hanseok was right when he said Hanseo was broken and there was no cure for him.
He stood up abruptly, angry all of a sudden. “Whatever! Fuck you and all your bullshit!” He poured the rest of the gummy bears in a savage shaking motion. “Eat all the fucking gummy bears you want as you rot in hell,” he muttered. How did his brother get to be so peacefully dead while Hanseo had to live through the consequences of his actions? Even after his death, it was still the same fucking routine. It was Hanseo who reformed Babel, Hanseo who painstakingly faced the press and the people for their shared crimes, Hanseo who was left coping with the abuse and trauma inflicted on him even decades after, Hanseo who was still cleaning up after his brother’s messes.
Storming off, he was ashamed to find there were tears in his eyes. Angrily wiping them away with his sleeve, he ran to his car. He had to get out of this place.
Memories flooded into his brain, unbidden. Some of them were ones that recurred, while others were things he had only recently rediscovered.
Hanseo remembered waking up that morning with a strange feeling of dread, the likes of which he’d never felt before in his life. It felt almost spiritual… he couldn’t explain it, but there was something gravely wrong. He was in his villa by himself, away from his brother. Hanseok had left briefly to go to New York, but he had returned several days prior.
When he checked his phone, there were hundreds of new messages from friends and business acquaintances.
What the hell?
Some of them were simply heart emojis, while others were paragraphs delivering condolences to him. His palms grew clammy as he read them. “She was an amazing woman, I’m so sorry Hanseo. Let me know if you need anything,” one of his close friends wrote.
No, it couldn’t be. Blinking rapidly, he went to Naver search. He had to try three times before his trembling fingers were finally able to spell “Babel” correctly.
“Mistress of late Babel chairman passes away” read the first headline. Hanseo’s knees gave way and he fell to the ground, dazed. He sat there, eyes seeing nothing. He didn’t even know how much time had passed by the time he finally registered his surroundings again. Bravely, he decided to read the article. It reported that his mother had committed suicide following the tremendous grief she felt at his father’s death. It detailed his mother’s history of depression, finishing with a quick blurb on mental health resources and suicide prevention.
Hanseo dropped his phone just as it rang, rudely awakening him to his own reality. “He-hello?”
“My little brother,” the voice said. “I heard the news. I’m so sorry.” Hanseok’s carefully curated concern and sympathy was almost believable. To keep his sanity, Hanseo chose to believe with all his heart that it was sincere.
“I just heard too…”
“Hey, do you want to come over to my place? I’ll help cheer you up. Let’s drink.”
Going to see his brother was the last thing he wanted to do right now, but drinking did sound like a good idea. He cleared his throat. “I’ll be there in an hour.”
“See you soon then.” His brother hung up first, as usual.
When he got there, his brother enveloped him in a hug. Hanseo stood still, forcing himself to rest a hand lightly on Hanseok’s back. “Hyungnim, thank you for taking care of me,” he said, bowing in deference. “I only really have you.”
Nodding, Hanseok gave him a satisfied grin. “I feel so bad that I wasn’t even able to see the signs,” Hanseok started. “She did seem unhappy, but I didn’t really do much for her. I should have been nicer, even though she was Dad’s mistress. I mean, that’s not only her fault, it was mostly Dad’s fault. I blamed her too much.”
When Hanseo remained silent, his brother turned to him, tapping his shoulder. “Hello? Are you listening?”
“Oh! Sorry, hyungnim. I was just thinking of something else. You know how easily I get distracted."
“It’s okay,” Hanseok said easily. “Anyway, I am sorry for not being there for her as I should have.”
“What do you mean, hyungnim? You were so busy and what more could you have done? You shouldn’t blame yourself. This is my fault, if anything.” The words flowed out so naturally, he didn’t even have to think anymore to say those lies.
He met his brother’s eyes. Please, no. It wasn’t you, right? For once, please. His brother’s mask was up fully, and even Hanseo wasn’t able to know for sure what was going on behind those solemn eyes.
“Anyway, hyungnim. Aren’t we gonna drink?” he asked.
“Of course, of course, come on in. You can choose anything you want today.”
—
“Hanseo, Hanseo.” His brother was shaking him.
“Mmm? What is it?” Hanseo yawned, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth.
“Wake up. It’s morning. I got you a nice cup of coffee. Let’s have some hangover soup together. I got the maid to make some earlier.”
When Hanseo came back from washing his face and tidying up his appearance, he found his brother seated at the table already. Waving him over, he flashed Hanseo a friendly smile. “Come.”
When they were finished their meal, Hanseok steepled his fingers. “Hanseo, I’ve been thinking. You and I, we’ve both lost our parents. Now we’ve only got each other.”
Hanseo swallowed, trying to imagine what would come next. He stiffened, then remembered his brother hated it when he did that. In an act of overcompensation, he stretched out his limbs and tried to look as comfortable as he possibly could with a raging hangover and a lifetime of fear for this man. “That’s true, hyungnim.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about loyalty in light of recent events. You know what your mom and our dad had in common? They both cheated and now they’re both dead.” Hanseok lifted his hands, palms facing up. “Coincidence?” he said in English. Pointing a finger to the sky, he said joyfully, “I think karma got them. You know, from up there. God punished them.”
Hanseo’s insides became liquid. All at once, he felt a flurry of emotions. He wanted to kill this man sitting beside him in the most violent way possible, he wanted to throw up for an entire hour, he wanted to die so that he wouldn’t have to deal with this shit any longer. This time, he wasn’t able to hide his unease. When his brother reached out to squeeze his shoulder, he almost jumped out of his skin.
“Hey, what’s up with you? You okay?” his brother asked. That fucking English again. Hanseo stared at him blankly, seeing double as the room floated around him. Even as his voice poured sweet concern, Hanseo thought he saw a malicious smile spread across his brother’s face.
“I think… I’m still… a bit… sick from the hangover,” he managed, rubbing his eyes shakily.
Hanseok sighed. “I just want you to know, even though we’ve had our… differences, you’re important to me. Someone I absolutely need. I don’t want something bad to happen to you, got it?”
Hanseo nodded quickly. “Thank you, hyungnim. Of course you’re important to me too. Where would I be without you?”
“That’s why,” his brother continued, his voice turning to steel, “I want to give you a bit of advice. If you don’t want to end up like your mom or our dad, just be loyal. Loyal to the bone, like a fucking dog, okay?” His grip tightened on his shoulder, turning painful. Hanseo wondered if he would dislocate his shoulder again.
“Yes, hyungnim. Yes, of course.”
“It’s simple, right?” Hanseok questioned in English. God, is he trying to brag about how good he is at English? It’s getting fucking old already.
“Yes, of course.” He knew what he had to do to appease his brother. Lip service wouldn’t be enough. His brother was the kind of person who valued physical action.
Hanseo had an idea. His brother had a weird interest in symbolism. He thought it was poetic or something. Hanseo stood up, walked over to open the knife drawer. Picking out a nice medium-length one that appeared suitable for the job, he knelt down in front of his brother. He sliced into his palm with the knife, wincing. “On my blood, on my life, I will be loyal to you, hyungnim. If anyone tries to do something bad to you, I’LL be the one to stop them! I’d like to see them try, those fucking bastards.”
“Ah, no need to go so overboard. My little brother, so dramatic as usual,” Hanseok said, though from the tone of his voice, it was clear he was grinning. “And look at that, you got blood on my hardwood floor.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I was so swept up in my loyalty for you that I didn’t even notice.” Hanseo hastily began to wipe at the floor with his clean sleeve, while using his handkerchief to absorb the blood from his right palm.
“Uh-uh-uh,” Hanseok said in a sing-song voice, waving his index finger. “Does that look clean to you? Look at all the streaks.”
Hanseo instantly knew what he had to do, what was expected of him. He’d long since learned that hurting and embarrassing himself would mean less pain by his brother’s hand. Self-inflicted wounds were his key to survival. If he made himself small enough, then he would be less of a target for his brother to abuse. Most people thought Hanseo was stupid, and maybe he was, but he wasn’t as stupid as everyone thought he was.
He recalled one of his mother’s last words to him. She’d seemed strange that day. Hanseo hadn’t been able to put his finger on it, but she seemed fearful, her gaze too sharp, her words too insistent. “Promise me, Hanseo,” she’d said. “The world is cruel, but you must survive it. That’s all I want for you. Survive, keep going through all the hard times, and live to experience a happier future. That’s the best revenge for all the pain you’ve been through. Do this for me.”
Heroically, Hanseo licked the floor clean with his tongue, ridding himself of what dignity he had left. He kept going, struck with a fervent perfectionism, licking at the hardwood like the faithful dog his brother wanted him to be. He licked as if his life depended on it.
I must live for myself. This is how I survive.
His brother’s booming laughter echoed in his ears as Hanseo’s mouth filled with the familiar taste of his own blood.