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 Rhim Kijung, 28 | media | ong seong-wu
Rhim Kijung
 Posted: Jun 12 2018, 09:47 AM
© lavy [she/her] // Offline
11 posts
(kiki) n/a
twenty-eight years old
waiting for (mis-)fortune
ong seong-wu

  • kiki
  • twenty-eight
  • he/him
  • daegu "seoul", south korea
  • 06/05/90
  • sbs producer
  • media
  • 179 cm
  • 63 kg
  • taurus
INTJ. Life path number 3. Chaotic neutral. Ravenclaw. Thunderbird. Apple wood with a unicorn hair core, 14 ¼", rigid flexibility. Protected by tonkinese cat Patronus. Poison and ghost type. Charmander, the brave type. Edwardian age. Falstaff of Henry IV. The twelfth Doctor. Doctor's companion Rory.


Calm and conservative, always covered with lingering yet unspoken dreams in his eyes, Kijung isn't the most talkative person on earth. In general, he prefers to observe his environment first before making his own steps. Whenever business is involved, he performs the best he can and would hardly forgive himself mistakes once the damage is done. His self-esteem is still a good deal of work in progress - he doesn't have much faith in his own work, yet he's eager to try.
Avoiding the crowd, he's more of a solitary thinker than a social butterfly. Despite having his own group of people he can rely on, nowadays, he prefers to keep himself locked up in his own room, not really interested in becoming part of other people's lives. After losing someone close to his heart and discovering that his whole life has been some sort of a lie, he firmly rejects to experience such things ever again.
The scaredy cat is surprisingly open-minded and entertaining once he truly feels close to someone that he enjoys to be with. Then, he actually can be quite annoying and embarrassing, showing off his creative mind not only during his self-chosen job. However, this joyous side of him isn't a sight that appears too often recently.
How he perceives himself and how others come to think about him are quite the opposite. While others find him quite handsome, he can't find beauty within himself.


trigger warning for: mentions of gang activities / involvement of him as child, death (car crash), (mentions of a) mental breakdown.

He was born as a part of a family he never knew whether he truly belonged to or not.
The man who was supposed to be his father never felt like a father - not that he would have someone to compare with, but the cold and demanding eyes who seeked perfection even as he was a little child, to be strong enough to inherit the own position within a gang, ruled by cruelty, he was never strong. Not in the way his 'father' demanded him to be.
He always tried to escape his hands, yet he failed often enough. Then this person would curse him, murmuring words he couldn't understand.
The woman who was supposed to be his 'mother' wasn't much around. Yet he remembers her warm attitude - the shelter she tried to give him, the hateful eyes she watched his 'father's' moves.
She felt more like a parent. She was as weak as him, yet she was good in surviving, so was he.
The environment, the school, the class he visited never felt like a playground. It was a torture to enter the classroom, which had been joyful just until his steps were audible on the hallway. 'He' arrived. It was a secret, a mystery, but the rumours weren't too far away from truth. They said he would be part of a gang, that his 'father' would be the head of it. They avoided him, left him alone in a corner.
He grew accustomed to the silence, to the whispers that surrounded him, and already believed that it would stay like that.
Even as his family moved to America as he was nine never changed this feeling of being isolated in his own corner. He didn't know why they moved, but he couldn't avoid a sudden feeling of relief as they left Seoul behind - perhaps, he thought it could change, now, moving to Phoenix, Arizona, just as the namesake would suggest - but ... it wasn't any different in the new town. Rumours already spread that the newly arrived family would be part of a mafia in South Korea (which wasn't a lie). That the son was already familiar with killing people (which was a lie). That they had to flee the country because ... anything. People secretly accused them of any crime possible. His 'father' never cared about that. His 'mother' tried to be strong, but he knew she cried every night. Yet she stayed.
Again, the boy was excluded from a life like anybody else. Despite some pseudo-brave teenage kids who used him as a test of bravery - and a girl. She was brave enough to approach him, she was kind enough to be friends with him and she was smart enough to avoid his 'father' by any means. She wasn't harm. She was blessing.
At least ... in his eyes.
For more than seven years, he had time to get close to the girl he rather perceived as the loving sister he never had, his best friend he always wished for. She was the one who suggested him to go online, even as it wouldn't be the same as offline - but he wanted to try. Using a different name, 'Vincent', he wanted to taste ... how friendship could be like.
In the end, he found so much more.
After days, he found 'her'. A girl, calling herself 'Violet', with a voice he couldn't forget. At first, it was just a comment he left for her, he wasn't even believing she would read it in first place, but as she kept posting stuff, he couldn't stop to communicate with her in such a one-sided way. He said the words he'd like to hear himself, the words that would have encouraged him, hoping they would mean the same to her.
The most surprising moment was as he received a message from her (he believed it was her), and since then, it wasn't one-sided anymore.


Now, he had the chance to be the person he always wanted to be, a knight in shining armour, caring, understanding - not the cold and violent person his 'father' depicted him to be.
He got curious about the person he was chatting with, and he wouldn't have ever had the courage to ask her to do a video chat if his best friend wouldn't have encouraged him in this case. Despite his curiosity about the beauty he talked with through letters and emojis, it would be too much to ask for, right? He always dreamt low.
He thought it would be fine as she rejected first. But slowly, he realized another thing - that there were butterflies and flowers around him whenever they were able to chat, even if it was only text messages. That ... he actually fell in love.
This feeling was only confirmed as she actually agreed on video-chatting with him. Despite any college exams and trouble and stress he had, they were able to find some time, and he did remember that he couldn't stop smiling at any point as he saw her face for the first time. Luckily enough that it wasn't a prankster, but ... 'her'. She looked much different from his stylish, witty best friend, more a wallflower, but ... looking at her, he knew she was the person he'd like to spend his hours with - only that they were too far apart.
He didn't know how he composed himself during the following time, not directly confessing his feelings in the least appropriate moment, he truly enjoyed the hours he was able to spend with his laptop in front of him. As he moved out of his parents' appartment, he was more open than any time before. She knew more about his 'true' self than his 'parent's did.
And just like magic happened, he plucked up his courage and asked her to be his girlfriend. It didn't matter to him if it would be a long-distance relationship. This feeling alone, he couldn't have stand it if she was with another man.
He felt the luckiest as the tragedy happened.
Still being with his best friend who had changed his life to the better, in his eyes, his 'father' was obviously not very fond of this person who had softened his 'heir' even more.
The chance to 'get rid' of her just occured as she eventually got her driver's license as the boy was around nineteen.
People said it was an accident. The young driver was inexperienced and yet wanted to drive with full-speed. The lucky man who survived this horrifying scenario. Everything burned. Noises. The colors red, black, white, death. The rescuers that were only fast enough to save his life.
A lie. A lie. Nothing more than another lie.
His ground slipped away, vanished like a soft breeze, but it would never be forgotten.
Even as his girlfriend came to the funeral, even as she tried to comfort him - his mind was paralyzed of the image in his head. Of the life he had to fear, now, as his only companion against his 'father', was eliminated by said person. He yelled, he screamed, he cursed at the only person who dared to get close to him - the only one who tried to lay an assuring hand on his trembling shoulder. He denied her. Their first encounter? A catastrophe followed by another.


He couldn't remember the storm passing by.
Just as she was already driving home again, he realized his behaviour. But he couldn't undo things now - and he couldn't risk her to be hurt just like his best friend. It was sheer luck that her father never laid an eye on her, so he decided to end things. One ... and forever.
From the begining, he knew that his 'father' was involved in this so-called 'car accident' - it wasn't an accident. Just as he wanted to get proof of him, the older announced their return to South Korea. They got into a huge argument. He couldn't recall any words, and he didn't want to. The only words he remembered clearly ... 'as weak as your father' ... the true story came out. That this man wasn't his carnal father. That his 'mother' wasn't his carnal mother. His birth mother died long ago, only months after his birth. And his father? Inofficially banned from South Korea.
He ran away, hoping to be free. He seeked shelter in police stations, tried to get out of this hell life, away from his 'parents'. He couldn't sleep much during that time, always fearing the sound of a bullet. But it never came.
He travelled much around the world, as much as he could - years of escape passed by until he eventually decided to settle down. He was sick of the fear. Trying various jobs, he first ended up being producer assistant of a mediocre broadcasting station somewhere in England before he ultimately gained a job offer in South Korea, eventually leading him back to the place where everything started. But here again, no bullets. As he reached an age of twenty-eight, he might found peace at last, not trying to do and find out anything about his blurred origin.
Subconsciously, he ended up looking for glasses.
For the same glasses he used to watch, filling his computer screen. He never found them again.

 Posted: Jun 12 2018, 01:24 PM
© cody [they/them] // Online
421 posts
21 years old
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