Kang Manor
Atlanta, Georgia
United States of America
August 2016
Whenever being interviewed, the question
concerning being like his father would always rise. And the answers he gave
would always be the same; Jin-ho would give a small laugh, fold his hands on
his lap neatly, put on that quiet smile, tone down the confidence and instead
increase humility. Open his mouth and speak about never being able to reach his
father’s heights. Speak about recognizing that he would never be as good, but
that he would do his best to live up to the Kang standard.
All of it would come to the point of it
sounding rehearsed. He was surprised that the media hadn’t made any comment
about it; that no newspaper or magazine had published how many times he just
recycled his words endlessly when it came to living under the shadow of his father.
But they kept quiet and he kept doing it anyway until the words tasted like
nothing in his mouth.
Mathieu caught him after yet another
interview. He merely remained backstage, waiting for Jin-ho to finish up. When
they were both in the car, Mathieu cleared up his throat and spoke up. “You
know, you’re starting to look and sound like a machine when you talk to those
people.”
“I know. Don’t tell me,” Jin-ho replied
shortly. Mathieu merely shrugged.
“I’m just saying. Seems like you’ve got a
mask on.”
“And you know a lot about masks?” the male
didn’t even bother responding, only raising his brows as if to say well, masks are sort of my current career,
moron. But he didn’t, and Jin-ho appreciated the silence on his part.
“Have a little more faith in yourself.”
Jin-ho said nothing to that, and Mathieu took his phone out of his pocket to
send a quick text. Probably to Aether, he assumed, to tell her that things went
well and that they were on the way back. Something of the short.
But his words didn’t really leave; they
stuck to him remained.
“If your dad were alive and seeing you
organize all these big PR events, he would have gotten a heart attack and died
anyway.” Tony mused. Jin-ho barely even flinched at the mention of the late
Tae-min; somehow the blow of his father’s death had softened throughout the
years. “No offense. But you knew your old man.”
He did. Jin-ho knew; that was the stark
contrast between him and he. If anything, Tae-min liked being surrounded by
silence. Events were never a priority unless desperately needed. Interviews
were scarce. Tae-min had preferred keeping Da-hyeon and Jin-ho in the more
private parts of his life, always making sure that business and personal
matters were far, far away from each other.
(In fact, the only time the two got
involved was probably when Jin-ho started to work in the company, and only that
time.)
The eldest and only Kang child, however,
embraced spectacle and events. Almost immediately did Kang Enterprises branch
out. Before the public could even blink, Jin-ho was spotted shaking hands with
other businessman, spotted eating out with younger investors, giving talks to
high school students who wanted to enter the business world. It was wild, and
if anything, it was different.
No one expected the quietly achieving Kang
Jin-ho who was stuck away in one of America’s prestigious universities to end
up shaking hands, striking deals. If anything, they expected him to remain
quiet, take them by surprise years later – but not that early.
Jin-ho knew what he was doing. He
strengthened his guard, put up more barriers, but went out and did what he
could. He talked, dealt, made friends, expanded the company in ways no one else
thought the company could ever expand.
“I know,” he replied calmly, looking at the
venue. “Don’t worry, Tony. I know exactly what I’m doing,” he said with
confidence, almost to the point of Tony’s own concern vanishing. But it didn’t,
and he kept watching Jin-ho with an indescribable look in his eyes.
The event was mostly for PR reasons. It was
something Jin-ho liked; he invited correspondents, friends, and allies to this
one big event that came from his own pocket. He invited them, treated them to
dinner, gave a big speech, talked about his plans. He could feel his father
looking at him with something along the lines of confusion, but he was
confident that the event would work out.
They always did.
So in the next month, it was all ready.
Guests arrived. Jin-ho was at the center of attention, taking it all in. He was
the same Jin-ho that the media loved to speculate about; he laughed, made
deals, interacted and complimented whoever he could, made them feel good to the
point of wanting to get some room for himself and some space for him to
breathe.
While outside, someone tapped him on the
shoulder. He startled and turned, only to see Mathieu standing there with his
ruby-colored tie and Aether on his arm, dressed to the nines in a silvery dress
with the same colored heels. Both of them had drinks, and both of them looked
concerned at the sight of him outside and alone. “Jin-ho?”
“You two surprised me,” he complained.
“We were here for a couple of minutes now,”
Mathieu replied dryly. “Until we saw you come here, too, looking like shit.”
“Aren’t you the paragon of compliments.”
The ginger gave a small shrug of his own and Aether looked at Jin-ho with a
frown, “And Aether…won’t you be performing later?” the dark-haired lady nodded.
“In an hour. Mathieu and I just wanted to
relax before it happened. Are you okay?” Jin-ho stayed silent and Mathieu
sighed before leaning in and whispering something into Aether’s ear. He caught
the female’s green eyes flicking from them to back inside and she nodded after
kissing his cheek. From their position, they could hear Aether smoothly
bringing away anyone who wanted to interrupted, wanted to talk.
And he felt a little guilty about it,
really.
“Aether doesn’t mind,” Mathieu said as if
knowing why Jin-ho had gone silent yet again. “And there are some people who’ve
wanted to talk to her all evening about later’s piece. What’s eating you?
You’re not the type to stay away from a good crowd.”
“Can’t I have some down time?” Jin-ho
joked, then sighed after. “I needed air, really. It gets stuffy inside,
especially with an assload of people interacting in a cramped space.” Mathieu
nodded slowly.
“Aether gets those, too. But are you sure
you’re okay?”
“Peachy. I’ll be fine,” he waved it off and
snatched the drink away from Mathieu’s glass, taking a quick swig. He ignored
the other’s protests, “Come on, let’s go. I don’t want anything to happen to
Aether.”
“Neither do I.” they went back inside and
eventually found her hanging with a couple of other people, though bid them
goodbye upon catching sight of Mathieu waving. “You okay?” she nodded and
pressed a kiss to his cheek, gently patting Jin-ho on the shoulder after and
assuring him that it would be alright.
He decided to believe her and left the
couple, soon getting back into the familiar routine of laughing and talking,
schmoozing and getting to know people from different areas and different
businesses.
Eventually, the hour died and everyone was
seated. Jin-ho’s mother gave his shoulder a squeeze. The light focused on him
and he rose to the sound of applause. A microphone was handed, the light was
blinding, and there was a sudden twist in his stomach that shouldn’t have been
there –
Familiar pairs of eyes caught his. He
settled, saw their smiles, saw their belief.
And he spoke.
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