YOU WILL ALWAYS REMAIN THE ILLEGITIMATE CHILD OF MY FATHER

𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑟𝑑 𝑃𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛'𝑠 𝑁𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟

He ambled inside the meeting area and saw his staff already seated around the long table. He plopped himself at the head of the table and stared at their faces. After a brief silence, he broke it. "So how's the analysis going?"

"We still trying to find the best way to depict the animation into a game." A woman in her early twenties, with chocolate hair and green sea eyes prompt. Twirling the pen in her grip kinda restless.

"The cartoon is about a prince who lost his kingdom to some barbarians and couldn't find his way back to his kingdom." A man in his early thirties, blond hair and blue eyes which seems to say a lot. He stood up from his seat and switched on the projector.

"I found some interesting images on google on how to work on the game production." He connects his phone to the projector and directs it to the whiteboard. He scanned his documents and finally stopped on downloaded images. He shows a mood board comprised of a desert, a hill, an amour and some sea monsters. Wooden and metallic objects.

"For the background, let's go with the desert." The whole staff of five personnel darted their eyes to him in amazement. Including the presenter.

"Sir, you know desert doesn't fit the description of the animation," one of the staff. A guy in his early twenties said. Gawking at the man on the head of the table. "Even your brother won't go with the idea....." He was startled when the man slammed his fist on the table. Shutting him up.

He shuddered as the cool look in his eyes turns into a dark one. His jaw clenched and he uncurls his fist. "Mention my brother one more and you are fired."

The whole room went silent. The only noise heard was their breathing. The presenter found it difficult to go on with the presentation. Going for a desert in the first level of a game sounds absurd to him if the desert comes up in the middle of the game. That's better. And according to the animation, the male lead was poisoned and dumped in the woods where some powerful sorcerer found him almost out of the world and revived him.

"Go on," the man on the head of the table urged.

"Right," he proceeded, showing images he gathered in creating a mood board.

"Let's say, we put in the desert scene as the first level scene where he has to fight creatures in the shape of sands." A light-tanned-skinned lady, probably in her early thirties injected. "He lost his kingdom, Kraghon kingdom to some creatures who dominated it. The sorcerer whose name is Urick, who saved him was from the Fyn kingdom but his tower is in the middle of nowhere."

"Why don't we place the sorcerer's tower in the middle of the desert?" She looked at their boss for approval of her idea. "Since it's a magical cartoon. He's bound to encounter deadly monsters."

A smile crept on her face when she saw him nod his head slowly. "I think I like the idea, let's go with it." The staff nodded their head in agreement even though within themselves, they don't seem to go with the idea.

The meeting ended and they all dispersed to the desk cubicles. "Is that what the cartoon company wants?" Francesco, an Italian guy who presented the mood board slumped down on his chair and glued his eyes to the images on the screen of his computer.

"We have no say in it," another guy named Dong-Mi sighed. "I wasn't in support of the idea though but when Dal-Rae gave her idea, I came to like it. I mean if they ever complain about it or never like it. We tell them it's what suits the game they want, better."

"Yep let's trust our new boss."

"New boss?" They lifted their eyes when Dal-Rae walks up to them with the files held against her chest. "Technically the two brothers have been the boss managing the company after their father went into a coma."

"Yup they are but the younger brother did most of the work....." he trailed off but his eyes held so much sadness in them. "I wonder where he is now. Even though the whole world questions his innocence, I have this strong feeling in me that he's clean."

"Listen let's focus on the work at hand and come out with the best results," Dal-Rae said. "I have already spoken to the design department, they are commencing work today."

"You are trying to make him visualize you as a serious and work-minded person, aren't you?" Francesco peered closely at her face and curled his lips upward into a sly smile. "Do you like him?"

She widened her eyes at his accusation. "What the heck?!" She brought out the files and tries to wack him with him but he dashes out immediately before she could hit him.

Tension filled the room. An aggravating feeling lingered in the air when Francesco almost collided with their boss. He swallowed hard as he glued to the ground, his boss's piercing gaze lanced through his skin. "I'm sorry boss."

"Does this company look like an amusement park to you?" Came the stoic voice of the boss.

"No...I'm sorry," he bowed his head. Praying he doesn't fire him. He had fired almost half of the staff if things doesn't go his way or see them playing around.

"Hey, he's gone," Dal-Rae tapped his back. Francesco lifted his head and realized Mr Yeo-Joon has left his front. He let out the breath he was holding. "For a minute my heart was on the verge of exploding."

"Dude, I was saying your last prayer when you collided with him," Dong-Mi said. Francesco went back to his seat and slumped down. His head came in contact with his desk, turning to his side as he looked at Dong-mi lost in space.

I'm off to check the analysis, to know if everything is good," Dal-Rae smiled and patted Francesco. "I will make it up to you with a bottle of soju and bibimpap or samgyeopsal." She walks off.

"It's harder to work in this country than I thought," Francesco exhaled. "Especially working for a cold boss."

"His brother was no different." Dong-Mi turned to his laptop and starts typing on it.

"I know but at least he was approachable, he jokes sometimes and tends to lighten up the mood." He jerks his head up from his desk and put a finger under his jaw. "But I can't seem to understand his personality most times. He confuses me a lot with his mood- like it's damn hard to keep up with him."

"The more reason why I prefer Yeo-Joon. You can detect when he's in a good mood or not, not the one who switches from one mood to another in a twinkle."

"Those brothers are opposite of each other. Makes me wonder if they are blood brothers or not."

"You said that not me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yeo-Joon kills the engine in front of a house, the family building he always despised since he was a little kid. Most times he wished to burn the whole building including every damn soul residing in it. This house was a grave to him and every soul in there was dead to him except his mother. She's the only reason why he couldn't go on with his plans on destroying the house. He got down from his car and made a move to enter the house but his eyes shifted to his brother's sports car. A scowl found its way onto his face.

After minutes of resenting the car, he walked inside the house. He took off his coat when a maid greeted him but he ignored her. She carried his coat and suitcase and disappeared upstairs to his room. He made his way to the kitchen where he met the family's butler, preparing dinner.

"Welcome, Sir," the elderly man who might be in his late fifties, with his tanned kinda red skin greeted. Tiny flecks made his face look rougher and the folds beside his eyes made his face look older. He wore an apron over his clothes and hand gloves on his hands. Cutting the beef with the cleaver knife.

"What do you want me to make for you?"

"Whatever the family is having." Yeo-Joon walks to the refrigerator and pulls out bottled water, gulping it in one go. He dropped the empty bottle in a trash can and turned to leave but whirls to the butler. "Did you give his medications?"

"No Sir, you said you are going to be the one responsible for that."

"Good and also I don't like onions so don't put them in my dish." Without too many words from him. Yeo-Joon left the kitchen and counted the stairs with his feet to his room. He took off his clothes and entered the shower. He stood under the shower and switched on the tap. The water came cascading down his body, washing off every dirt he must have incurred. Thoughts flew in from nowhere. He wondered which part of the world his brother is. Abandoning the company. well, he favoured him by doing so.

And what he might be doing there. Every day their father compared him to his younger brother which makes his blood boil. Sometimes he thought of killing his brother, what does he do right that he can't do too? He used to be the favoured child when they were little but everything changed when they grew up.

The annoying part of it is that his brother acts strange. A strange being he can't seem to unravel.

"You don't belong here," he once told his brother. Glaring at him. They stood opposite in the sitting room. Glaring at each other. They were teens back then, struggling for their father's affection and attention.

"You will always remain the illegitimate child of my father," Yeo-Joon spat at him. "I curse the day you entered this house. Destroying the peaceful family we have."

He saw his younger brother curl his left hand into a fist. He was fighting to keep calm but he was bent on venting out his frustration on him. "Your mother is a slut, going after married..."

Before he could finish off his sentence, he saw him sprint towards him with force and the next minute his back was pressed against one of the sofas. His eyes were clouded with rage as he punched his face with all his energy.

"My mother is not a slut," he roared and continued to punch his face. Yeo Joon couldn't contain his blows and knocked him off him. "Never call her that."

"That what is she?" He staggered to his feet and wiped his nose smeared with blood.