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Turbulence. An utter annoyance devised to torture the gray area of the paranoid mind Jimin thought as he prepared to deboard what had been his very first flight.
“Lord. Please! Have mercy.” He whispered as a little prayer, while he unbuckled his seatbelt, a little piece of his Southern Baptist childhood peeking through his newer semi-nihilistic views.
Just in case it was his last chance before he stepped on new soil for the second time he thought of all the events that brought him to be sitting and row 3 seat B with a used one way ticket to Seoul, Korea.
Jimin was born in the Geumjeong District of North Central Busan. Due to consequences beyond anyone's control he was left at drop off point but by the grace of God (at least that's what his mother always said) he was quickly adopted by a “nice” white couple from Houston, Texas, America. Where Jimin had spent his first 18 years of life that is until he discovered the seven colors of the rainbow.
Unfortunately, his parents couldn’t see in anything except the pure black and white of scripture. The perfect child they adopted didn't turn out like they wanted him to.
Instead, he was always small, shy, and reserved.
“Leave him be Robert. He'll come into himself.” his mother said one night as she fought with his father over Jimin choosing to take ballet over pee wee football in the first grade. “Plus he’ll be surrounded by all those pretty girls. Honestly, he might just be a little Casanova. Sound familiar?” she ended with a slight chuckle.
“Of course. Just like his old man.” rustled the rich stone baritone of his father's voice. While from the top of the stairs watched a teary-eyed Jimin wondering why his dad got so angry in the first place.
He also was unpredictably gifted.
“JIMIN.” yelled an out of breath voice running down a cream corridor. Suddenly, there was a tomato of a middle schooler standing before Jimin.”Did...you... see?” the boy breathed out slowly.
A confused look arose on Jimin’s face while he had patiently waited for the young man to regain his composure only then he meekly asked. “See what?” With a quick glance he noticed the stares of the people his friend unintentionally attracted. Uncomfortability quickly settled on him so he quietly closed his locker and gestured for his friend to walk with him.
Understanding the action and feeling slightly guilty, his friend compiled. “Sorry. I know you don't like a lot of attention. I just got so excited when I found out the news. I just had to talk to you about it” He finished speaking with a wide grin.
Somewhat hesitant in his asking “What exactly happened?” A small reassuring smile settled on his face.
“You got it!”
Jimin even more confused now “Got what?”
“Don't play dumb. The lead. In the school play. The one you spent weeks not so secretly practicing for all alone in your bedroom. Only ever leaving for food, school, and church.” his friend said playfully. “I can’t even believe that your dad allowed you to audition” Jimin’s friend hadn’t noticed how Jimin had abruptly came to a stop. Only realizing the sound of singular footsteps once he’d stopped talking.
He turned to see Jimin flabbergasted and frozen. “WHAT?” Jimin said with a volume too loud for comfort yet again attracting more stares from on-goers.
When he started again, this time quieter, he pulled his friend closer ”What do you mean I got the lead?!!? I audition for Munchkin 3”
The boy perplexed “Wow. Really? Miss Nelson just put up the cast list on the board and there’s your name right there. Lead.. Jimin Park in bright bold letters. You must be really good?”
“I’m okay. This is probably just a mistake”
He later found it was not. Jimin was incredibly talented and it showed in everything he loved. Whether it was singing in the choir on Sundays while the colorful lights from the stained glass played with the harmonies of their voices in the air, or teaching ballet to rumbustious seven-year-olds after school most days, or even auditioning for the school play of The Wizard of Oz hoping to become at least a background character and astonishingly landing the lead as Dorothy.
He was also gay.
“Jimin, come here.” called Jimin’s mother from her bedroom. Seeing her son enter her room out the corner of her eye, she took a breath and slowly turned to face him. As she panned into his view the ordinarily cool atmosphere of his home suddenly hardened with tension as Jimin’s body stilled(seemingly not even breathing) as he focused on what his mother was holding. Already getting the answer she was looking for before even posing the question. Silence lonely iin the air, breaths held, and negative energy swarming them like bees. After a moment she spoke first, “I won’t tell your father” them both knowing this would break his already fragile heart. “But you need to leave. You can't stay here with this sin.”
“Mom, just list-”
“Tonight. Before he gets home.” whispered a broken woman
With streams running down both their faces he nodded and released a sob whilee sinking to the floor.
“I still love you but...” she whispered to him unable to finish.
His mother fought the urge to comfort her only child. She hated to see him hurting but also not having the strength to help, not even when he reached out for her. Not even noticing when she takes a step back, from the look of pure sadness in his eyes. Not being able to handle it anymore, she rushed past him in the doorframe to the bathroom. Where she hid for hours listening to him cry for her, when the tears drew up, he stood and packed his things. She refused to leave the room until she heard the front door open and close, his car start and the eventual fading of the engine asher progressed further away. She sauntered to his bedroom where he has left a note for his father explaining his absence without detail. She looked around the room devoid of the last 18 years. She collapsed on his bed which still carried the warm vanilla of her son and she cried. After what feels like the rest of her life, she let go of the unfinished coming out letter she was clutching.
From there the next two years of Jimin’s life was a blur of working and community college. He got a full time job at an mixed arts studio in the next town over, took night classes, and stayed with an older friend of his who graduated a few years before him.
He was living through the motions, just surviving until one day. He had been doing research on scholarships when he came across The Korean Homecoming Program. The title enticing him right away, What he wouldn't do to come home. In layman's terms it was a scholarship for extremely gifted children who were adopted from Korea who get a chance to return ”home” and become accustomed to their forgotten culture. Room and board included as well as living expenses and transportation fees. The only things needed to apply was a copy of transcripts, a compelling essay on behalf of their case, and proof of a talent or skill that could add to society.
Although he was fully aware that he was Asian he never put much thought into his Korean roots. How could he? He was too busy focusing on being something he wasn't to realize who he was. So that day he applied and as he waited the weeks for the special reviewing board at Jeon Industries(who he learned were the sponsors to the scholarship) to decide his fate he studied Hangul.
One day after returning from his language tutor he checked the mail only to find a thick envelope from Seoul University. Tears already streaming down his face before he even opened said envelope. He knew this was his acception and with that a new chance with his life.
Seemingly ready for this new life his grabbed his carry on and joined the line to deboard.. As he stepped outside he was too enamored with abundance of people who looked like him to notice all the pretty yellow hues of the sun.