♔ going home. (backdated - early May)
» The smartest way to sneak around was to buy a ticket at the counter instead of prebooking. Kibum did that every time he wanted to get away without being tailed. The fans that had impressive detective skills could only find out where he went, and it was harder for them to get organised and catch up.
No, he didn't care if they knew where he was. He did care if they could find him, follow him, and trespass on the time he had to spare for his family. Casually running into fans was something else, he was always personable then... but those were not the type that made things difficult, and Kibum could recognise that type from a mile away.
This time, the trip home had been uneventful. The flight to Daegu was quiet, and the ride to his parents' home had been soothing, familiar, spring treating the surroundings well. How beautiful. How simple. These days, he found himself appreciating simplicity as if it was art... he appreciated the calm in small things, the calm in stability and certainty, and in cherishing every moment instead of running at full speed into constant intensity. He had been burnt out for too long emotionally, mentally, spiritually. This was what he needed.
"Yah! Why didn't you tell me you were coming? I would've picked you up!" Of course, that was the first thing his mother had to say to him, her tight hug and the scent of her perfume, the same one she'd used all these years, making him hold his sassy tongue for a moment longer. Just long enough to enjoy it.
"Oh, keep acting like you don’t love surprises.." His lips curled into a smile, predicting the playful swat before it even came, laughing easily. "I brought you a present from your favourite, Michael Kors," he sang at her, waving a bag between them. "So you can't be mad at me."
"I'll be happier when you bring a girl home to me," she sang back to him, taking the gift all the same, though she noticed the way Kibum's expression changed all of a sudden, the playfulness evaporating. "Aigoo, Kibum-ah, you know I worry about you all by yourself. Is it so bad for your mother to want to see you happy?"
"I know... I can take care of myself..." There was another moment of hesitation, and her eyes on him felt like burning, intense. "The thing is though... I mean... I am kind of seeing someone... now..."
The gasp made him snort, her hands grasping his, overjoyed like she always was... though he typically didn't mention anything like this to her. There was a feeling like if he did, and it fell apart -- which it very frequently did -- she would fuss over him. Baby him. It was much better if she didn't hear about it at all in the first place. That feeling of failure was something Kibum absolutely loathed. That feeling of being pitied as if he was a child who needed taking care of... he hated it, and it could easily arouse a kind of anger that he rarely showed at other times. It undoubtedly stemmed from his youth, a long history of trying to seem like he was perfectly fine without them even if he was bitter and resentful and wanted them to know it. Because they had been perfectly fine without him, in his eyes. As an adult, he understood their situation, but complexes weren’t so easily healed. He certainly wasn’t as open and honest with them as he had been with his grandmother, even now.
This time was different, however... it felt important. Perhaps because he’d noticed that he’d been in a rut for some time now, some kind of cycle that he wouldn’t break by sitting around, thinking about it. In fact, if anything, it seemed to be getting worse in more recent years, causing more damage than Kibum was able to fix. And, perhaps, the only way to start to change things... was by actually changing them. It set his nerves on edge and made him avoid his own mother’s eyes, but it did feel the slightest bit relieving just to have it out in the open.
"Tell me everything. Is she pretty? Is she a celebrity? Show me."
Only his grandmother had ever known for a fact that he wasn't exactly the completely heterosexual person his parents treated him as. He had never been completely sure if his mother had suspicions or if she was in denial. They'd never had a real conversation about it, after all. Maybe because he felt guilty for how he'd treated her in the past... and her health problems, her bad heart; he worried about the stress. It wasn't important, except it was important...
"Honestly, like... I’m happy. We fit together really well and it’s been going great. I swear if I jinxed myself saying that...” He huffed, shaking his head. “But anyway, you have to wait. You'll meet when the time is right. And if it doesn’t last or something... then I’ll just show you the ugliest selcas instead." A pause. "... There's a lot of those, actually, I could make like an entire flipbook and probably make some money on it. ... I have got to write that down. Anyway, unwrap your present. I had to order this online and you’re the first one to have it in all of Korea. Everybody will say you’re Michael’s realest fan from now on.”
The only thing he could do was take it one step at a time.
