Reenactment of Narcissus

Beauty. Pain. Influence. Perfection.

Birth. Family. Reputation. Perfection.

Station. Relations. Skills. Perfection.

From the moment of my birth, it was as if the gods had created my existence just for the sake of proving to everyone that perfection exists.

Or at least, that was what I was forced to believe.

In reality, those were all just expectations upon expectations piled up on a small child by parents who desperately wished to somehow be saved by some kind of miracle.

Once a large conglomerate founded by the previous family head, it is no new news that the once illustrious Kim family was on the brink of bankruptcy, brought down by the incompetence of the current head, Kim Inwoo.

My birth father.

As early as the day I turned 5 years old, I was made aware of the difference between me and other children.

While other children spent their birthdays happily with their families, I was given a grand tour of the conglomerate's office buildings to familiarize myself with the atmosphere early on.

Coincidentally, in front of the building was a large shopping mall with a restaurant where a similarly aged child was celebrating her birthday surrounded by gifts and balloons. Smiling brightly as a waiter took her photo, her hands were held tightly by both of her parents.

At that time, I remember feeling jealousy. But, more than that, I just felt resignation knowing that I might never experience that in my entire life.

The only respite I got was a single slice of blueberry cream cake that my nanny secretly stashed for me when I got home.

Living with parents who placed all of their hopes for the future on their only child, you would think it would leave a permanent impact on me, right?

Well it did. To an extent.

By the age of 8, it was revealed that I might actually be a genius. At that time I thought it as a matter of course but, to my parents, it was no less of a saving grace. Little by little, the already thin chord between us started to snap.

"You are my perfect child. The child who will save our family." The words my mother uttered every night before I slept. I used to think they were her love for me but her eyes only held cruel ambition.

The weary look worn with frustrations that my father had when he returned from work spoke of his daily struggles. Ah, it's slowly breaking apart.

Until one day, I realized.

This luxurious prison that I was born in was merely a rotten apple coated in fanciful syrup.

I think that subconsciously, I was already aware of it since the beginning but, the childish yearning for familial love clouded my sense.

I built a palace from sand, and now that the waves washed over it, I am left with nothing.

Kim Seung. A name which carried all his parents filthy ambitions.

A week ago, the long-standing conglomerate finally fell to bankruptcy with my father charged with money laundering and tax evasion. The moment the media and police flocked to our house, my mother was nowhere to be found, having committed suicide in a privately owned apartment in another city.

It seems that her perfect son can only amount to this much.

I, the son who was lead to believe that I was perfection itself, was thrown like trash after the source of their obsession crashes down.

Really, even this fact was like the perfect irony.

I see. If it is like this, then, from the start, I would have wished to throw them into this kind of frustrating despair as well.

To become their perfect son just to become the thing which pushes them straight into hell.

How funny that they dare to mold me into a monster but dare not take responsibility for their actions.

Just a pity that everything fell apart before I manage to grasp the edge.

And now that I have no use, I suppose the game over sign should be hanging upon my head by now.

Thus, like Narcissus who believed he was perfect and fell in love with his reflection on the lake, I let myself fall towards the dark chasms.

Onto the next gate.