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inyournightmares97 · 5 years

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My Youth (Chapter 1)

Broken and miserable, Park Jinyoung returns to his hometown to learn that no matter how hard he falls, there are still people who think he’s a hero.

Warnings: Angst, slow build, maybe some language. (Please don’t ask when I’ll update. Wait until the series is finished to read if you’re impatient.)

Word Count: 3k+

(Please check my Masterlist for the Prologue and read that first! (I can’t put in links because tumblr)

You sat at your desk and slowly flipped open the newspaper. GOT Tech set to acquire its major competitors, the paper read. High growth rates predicted for the rising tech giant! The lady at the newspaper stall had handed it to you earlier that morning with a big smile. Part of you wanted to tell her to stop caring so much about Jinyoung’s successes and that he probably didn’t even remember the ahjumma he used to buy comics from. But you’d never been very good at saying what you felt. You had simply smiled and taken the newspaper from her.

She would learn her lesson eventually.

“Miss? Miss, I’ve finished these sums,” a soft voice informed you from behind your newspaper.

You lowered the newspaper and smiled at the young boy who stood in front of your desk, holding out his notebook to you. Kim Ki-woo was six years old and the smartest boy in your first grade class. It had barely been ten minutes since you’d sent the kids off to their desks to complete the sums, but he had finished them already. You smiled at him.

“Are you sure you’ve done all of them, Ki-woo?”

The boy nodded eagerly, his dark hair bouncing up and down in the mushroom cut that his mother insisted on making him wear. You folded up the newspaper and then gestured for Ki-woo to sit on the small chair next to your desk. “All right, let’s see how you’ve done then. What color pen shall I correct Ki-woo’s work with today? Blue? Purple?”

Ki-woo pointed shyly at the colored pens on your desk. “Green, Miss.”

“Green it is,” you agreed with a smile, before you began to look at the little addition sums that he’d done neatly in his book. Only one sum was wrong, simply because he’d forgotten to carry over a number. You pointed it out to him and his face fell. “You forgot to carry over the one here, Ki-woo.”

“Oh,” he mumbled. “So I don’t get a star?”

“How about I give you a small star?” you offered, reaching for the box on your desk where you kept your sticker packets. You pulled out a little packet of small silver stars while another girl came bounding over to your desk. She watched you put the little star in Ki-woo’s notebook and beamed.

“I bet I can get a big star, Ki-woo!” she teased.

You frowned at her as you handed Ki-woo his notebook back. “Let’s be nice, Jangmi. Ki-woo worked hard and did well.”

“Sorry, Miss.”

The bell rang loudly before you could say anything else and the students all rushed to their feet happily. You grinned as you watched them hurry to pack their bags and run out of the classroom. “All right, everyone! Those of you who couldn’t finish the sums today can work on them tomorrow! Everyone go home safely, now! Look both ways when you cross the street! Bye-bye!”

The children ignored you completely and ran out of the classroom in a rush. You sighed and waited for them all to leave before you began to pack up your own belongings. Sometimes you stayed late at school to plan your lessons and correct homework but today you were exhausted. There was a huge PTA fundraiser coming up next week and you were expected to help plan the event in addition to making posters for the whole thing. You had just tucked the newspaper into your bag when your phone rang.

Mrs. Park, the caller ID read. You smiled and answered the phone.

“Mrs. Park! I was just about to call you. How did you read my mind?” you asked the older woman pleasantly. Mrs. Park called you often these days, and you’d been planning to ask for her help with the fundraiser. Her delicious cookies always sold out in seconds and made the most money. You heard her laugh; a sudden, delighted little laugh that the woman rarely ever shared.

“Is that so, dear? Oh, I have something wonderful to tell you!” she chirped.

You couldn’t help but smile. “Did you finally find that lemon pie recipe you were looking for? Because I have an excellent use for it-”

“No, no, no, it’s much better than that! Isn’t school over for the day? Can you come by my house right now?” Mrs. Park asked you eagerly. You blinked in surprise and then glanced at the clock. She wanted you to come over? It was just a little past three. You had to make some calls and posters for the fundraiser but you supposed a brief chat with the older woman couldn’t hurt.

“All right, Mrs. Park. I’ll be over in ten minutes.”

“Lovely, dear. Do hurry!”

You smiled and hung up, wondering what had made the woman so excited. Perhaps Mr. Park had gotten his test results back from the hospital. The older man’s health hadn’t been doing too well lately, and the doctors were concerned that he might have developed some heart problems. You had gone with him to the hospital last week. Mrs. Park had been extremely worried. You smiled as you quickly exited the school building and hurried towards the Parks’ home. They were the closest thing you had to parents, you supposed. It was natural that they relied on you sometimes.

The light at the crossing was red so you waited for it patiently. You had crossed this road every day during your childhood. After your Father died in a car accident you had been terrified of traffic and crossing roads.

“Who even holds hands while they cross the road?” Jinyoung teased as he reached for your hand and grasped it tightly. Some of the other kids made fun of you both for holding hands. Jinyoung turned pink whenever someone commented on it, but still kept a firm grip on your hand. “We’re too old for things like that. I won’t do this forever. Come on, the light turned green. Let’s go.”

You blushed and followed him, grateful that no matter what anyone else said or even what he himself said, Jinyoung never let go of your hand.

Seven-year old Jinyoung had been much more mature than you’d given him credit for. He would often say one thing and do another, but he always knew where to draw the line with his teasing. You smiled to yourself as you watched the light turn green.

It was absurd how something as foolish as a pedestrian light still carried memories of Jinyoung in this town.

You crossed the road quickly and found yourself in the Parks’ driveway. The wonderful smell of freshly baked cookies wafted out from the kitchen window and you smiled. It must be a special occasion if Mrs. Park was baking cookies. You rang the doorbell briefly and waited.

“That was quick!” Mrs. Park beamed at you as she opened the door. Her face was flushed pink and she was glowing, almost like a bride on her wedding day. You wondered what could have made the older, wrinkled woman suddenly look ten years younger. “Come in dear, come in! I have the most wonderful surprise for you! You’ll never believe who just dropped in!”

You smiled and stepped inside, pausing to take off your shoes in the doorway. There was another pair of shoes there and you paused. Expensive and leather, most probably male. Old Mr. Park rarely used any footwear other than his worn-out sandals since his retirement. But these shoes looked like they belonged to a young man. A stylish, rich young man. Who could Mrs. Park have possibly-

No. It can’t be.

Your stomach turned over as the realization hit you like a truck. The delighted glow on Mrs. Park’s face. The shoes. The expensive leather bag that was lying in the entrance to the living room as though thrown there haphazardly.

Park Jinyoung had finally come home.

You had thought that you would have more time.

Perhaps if you’d received some warning that you were about to come face-to-face with your long-lost childhood best friend then you would have prepared yourself. You would have thought of a few things to say, maybe a few questions to ask him. At the very least, you would have gathered your thoughts and reminded yourself to be on your best behaviour for old Mrs. Park’s sake. Your tendency to replay different possible scenarios over and over in your head had always served you well, since it meant that you were rarely caught off-guard.

Except for now. Now, when you were met with the sight of Park Jinyoung sitting on the couch.

You hadn’t played this scenario out yet. You were completely unprepared.

“Jinyoung-ie! Look who I invited over! Do you remember how much you both cried when Jinyoung left for Seoul?” Mrs. Park cooed fondly. “Oh it was such a beautiful friendship! I’m sure you both must have missed each other so much!”

Her words sounded distant. You couldn’t think of anything, you simply froze in the doorway. The sight of Jinyoung was too much to drink in. He was wearing a simple white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and revealing his toned forearms. Jinyoung’s dark hair brushed his forehead softly and his back was straight in a perfect posture; one that conveyed confidence and pride. His dark, familiar eyes met yours and you froze.

What should you say? Should you simply say hi? Should you reach out and hug the friend you hadn’t seen in years? Should you smile at him? Should you ask him where he had been all this time and clap him on the back, or should you simply shake his hand and let the awkwardness continue?

A million possibilities flickered through your mind. A million different ways that the impending encounter before you could go.

But in the end, Jinyoung made the decision for you.

“Mom,” Jinyoung said, his voice deeper than you remembered but still somehow soft. There was a sharp tone to it. The hint of acidity told you even before he spoke that he was about to break your heart. “Mom, I told you not to tell anyone that I was here. How could you go announcing it to the townspeople within seconds?” Jinyoung demanded.

Mrs. Park looked shocked. “Well… yes dear, I know you said that. But I thought… I mean, she’s your friend so I thought you would want me to tell her, at least! She’s been comforting me while you were gone for so long, Jinyoung-ie, we’ve both been worried about you…”

You swallowed hard.

Was that how it was? You were just one of the townspeople now? Whatever small hope you had clung onto that Park Jinyoung was still your friend had vanished. What had you been thinking? If he had cared even the slightest bit for you then he would have called, or sent at least an email or a text. But Park Jinyoung had done none of those things.

To Jinyoung, you were just a vague memory from his past.

One that he evidently didn’t care much for.

“I can leave if you’d like,” you managed to say calmly. If there was one thing you’d learnt in the decade that Jinyoung had been gone, it was to maintain your dignity. You never overstayed your welcome. You had spent enough of your life feeling unwanted.

Mrs. Park gasped at your suggestion. “Of course not! Jinyoung’s only tired from the long journey! He had to take a train all the way here and you know how exhausting those things are. I’ll just bring out some tea and you’ll feel much more relaxed, Jinyoung. Why don’t you both sit down and catch up?”

Mrs. Park gently pushed you towards the couch and gave you an encouraging smile before disappearing into the kitchen. Your legs felt like jelly but you slowly walked over to sit down across from Jinyoung. His eyebrows were furrowed and he blinked in mild irritation. The expression made his handsome face detestable.

“I don’t want rumors spreading about me being here,” he told you bluntly. “So kindly keep it quiet. I only came home to see my mother.”

You felt dizzy. Even if you had had the chance to go over this scenario in your mind, you doubted that you could have predicted these words to be the first words Jinyoung said to you. You narrowed your eyes at him. The man who sat in front of you was not your childhood friend Jinyoung-ie. He was Park Jinyoung, a perfect stranger.

You intended to treat him as one.

“Rumours spreading about you making a visit to your hometown?” you asked coolly. You sat back against the couch while trying to hide your trembling hands. “Hardly sounds like the scandal of the year. What sort of paper would want to print that?”

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Because I’m not a celebrity?” you wondered.

Jinyoung didn’t respond. He simply turned his face away from you and looked towards the window as though he was bored. The silence was rude and uncomfortable. You couldn’t help but take the opportunity to let your eyes feast on the man before you. Jinyoung had only become more handsome in the last decade. His sharp jawline was covered in a light stubble and his plump lips were pressed together tightly. The magazines had done nothing for him; he looked like a model in real life as well.

But his hands were trembling.

You had to do a double take to make sure that you’d seen correctly. Jinyoung’s eyes were casually staring out of the window and his shoulders were relaxed. His entire posture screamed arrogance and distinterest. But his hands, placed casually in his lap, were trembling.

Trembling hands. Weakness. Fear.

But… but Park Jinyoung feared nothing.

Except failure, you reminded yourself. For as long as you’d known him, Jinyoung’s biggest fear had always been failure. His thirst for success and victory had always been accompanied by a crippling terror of being anything less than the best. Park Jinyoung had to come out on top. He avoided failure like a wild deer sprinting from a lion. Gracefully, yes. Successfully, almost always.

Yet it was a sprint that was unmistakably motivated by fear.

“I hope you like the lemon tea!” Mrs. Park gushed as she entered the living room with a tray and three steaming cups of her delicious lemon tea. The rich, tangy fragrance filled the room instantly. She set the tray on the table and you spotted a plate of freshly baked cookies on them as well. “Go on; help yourselves! I remember you both used to come here and beg me to make this lemon tea while you were studying in high school!”

You reached for a cup gratefully, but Jinyoung had frozen. His hands were still trembling but now he was staring at the tea and the cookies in silence. Mrs. Park placed a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

“Jinyoung, dear, are you okay?” she asked softly.

Jinyoung looked up and his dark eyes were suddenly misty. You stared at him in shock. Were those… tears? What was it? Was it the smell of his mother’s tea and cookies? Had they perhaps evoked some memories in him? Perhaps Jinyoung wasn’t as cold and uncaring as you first imagined.

“I, uh… I think I’ll take this tea to my room. I’d like to get some sleep,” he said hoarsely. You watched him closely as he grabbed one of the mugs of tea and took the entire tray of cookies. “Please don’t disturb me for a while.”

Mrs. Park blinked. “All… all right, Jinyoung, dear. You do that.”

He disappeared up the stairs and you were left alone with Mrs. Park, who looked at you apologetically. “I’m so sorry. He must be more tired than I thought. Why don’t you stay and have the tea-”

“That’s all right. Mrs. Park,” you reassured her kindly. You felt a sudden urge to run from this place, to get out of this house. It had felt like home to you all these years but it wasn’t. It wasn’t really your home. This was Jinyoung’s home. Whether he wanted it or not, it would always be his home and not yours. You placed a comforting hand on the older woman’s. “I’ll be back soon, Mrs. Park. I have some work to do for the PTA meeting coming up this weekend.”

She smiled at you. “Thank you-”

“Not at all. I’m sure you want to take care of Jinyoung now that he’s finally home. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will.” She gave you a wide smile and you could see the happiness and relief in her eyes. “Oh, I’m so glad that he’s finally home.”

You smiled at her and nodded. Of course she would be. A mother could wait decades for her son and still love him no matter what. But you had never been as kind-hearted as Mrs. Park. You couldn’t wait here forever and welcome Jinyoung back with open arms no matter how much he hurt you. You wouldn’t.

As you left the Parks’ house and walked towards your apartment, hot tears welled in your eyes. The pavement under your feet was blurry. Why were your hands trembling, why did you want to sit down and cry? Why was the brief appearance of a man from your childhood enough to make your entire body tremble?

Perhaps, deep down, just like Mrs. Park and old Mr. Kang and the lady from the newspaper stall, even you had carried a small hope that someday Jinyoung would come back.

You paused in the middle of the sidewalk, took a deep breath and then reached inside of you to find where that tiny little hope had been resting in your heart. That tiny little hope that your best friend still cared about you. That tiny little hope that Jinyoung would embrace you with open arms. That tiny little hope that there was a good, justified reason why Park Jinyoung had cut you off all these years. That tiny little hope that had made today’s encounter so painful.

You carefully drew that tiny little hope out and then you killed it.

And as you continued your walk, you felt that much lighter.

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dippedanddripped · 3 years

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KYLE

NEW YORK

NICO

JOE

FRESHGOODS

& ALEX

JAMES

How do you stay creative during a pandemic? For answers, we turned to four culture makers across the US—New York Nico, Kyle Ng, Joe Freshgoods, and Alex James — on how they meet the demands of staying productive in our new reality. We’ve equipped each of them with a Samsung Galaxy Z Fold2 5G, a revolutionary smartphone that allows them to stay creative, whether doing everything in one place, or out on the go hunting for inspiration. Perfectly designed for the creative life, the Z Fold2 is three devices in one: folded closed like a regular smartphone, open flat like a tablet, or laid on a surface like a mini-laptop. It’s four machines, if you include its camera, with its impressive depth of field and hands-free shooting. Each of the culture makers we selected were tasked with taking photographs and screenshots that give us a glimpse of their creative process, what inspires them, and how to balance between work and play. The results we got back were surprisingly intimate, quirky, unexpectedly funny, and humane. Take a peek into their lives below.

NEW YORK NICO

SHOT ON A SAMSUNG GALAXY Z FOLD2

DOWNTOWN NEW YORK

(JUN — AUG 2020)DOWNTOWN NEW YORKDOWNTOWN NEW YORKTIGER HOOD, A STREET GOLFER WHO HITS MILK CARTONS THROUGHOUT THE STREET; OR THE GREEN LADY OF BROOKLYN, WHO ONLY DRESSES IN GREEN. THESE ARE JUST TWO OF THE FASCINATING INDIVIDUALS THAT NEW YORK NICO, A DOCUMENTARY FILMMAKER, HAS CAPTURED ON HIS

INSTAGRAM

ACCOUNT.

Having grown up in Union Square and gone to school in the Village, he’s dedicated his project to capturing all the indispensable local characters who make up the quirky flavor of the ever-changing NYC. So when Covid hit the city, claiming the lives of tens of thousands and forcing countless others out of their homes, Nico immediately went to work to help save a part of the city that was vanishing before his eyes. Catapulting off of the viral success of his Instagram — which has 472k followers, attracting attention from the New York Times and celebrities like Alec Baldwin and Chloe Sevingy—Nico launched contests such as Best New York Mask, Best New York Photo, and Best New York T-Shirt, that raised nearly $300,000 for charities such as God's Love We Deliver, Color of Change, and The Campaign Against Hunger. Since the pandemic, Nico launched the #MomNPopDrop hashtag for quirky and iconic small businesses that were struggling to stay open. He started with Army & Navy Bag on Houston Street by going down to the store and taking a photo of its owner. Then for the next week or so, lines began forming outside his shop. “When I saw the response to that, I was like, holy shit. These posts are making a huge impact,” he said to Elle. For Highsnobiety, Nico photographed, as an extension of his practice, various scenes in the daily life of New York City: dog-walking in the streets, vendors, business owners. An ATV driven by a Chucky doll. All photos were shot on the Samsung Galaxy Z Fold2 5G, which was convenient enough to take with him for unexpected moments on the go that, with a clunkier machine, he would have missed just seconds later. And what moments these were — a testament to what keeps New York strong, the New York that he loves, which he believes will survive the pandemic.

KYLE NG

SHOT ON A SAMSUNG GALAXY Z FOLD2

DOWNTOWN NEW YORK

(JUN — AUG 2020)DOWNTOWN NEW YORKDOWNTOWN NEW YORKKYLE NG IS A CONNOISSEUR OF THE T-SHIRT. “IT’S LIKE A BILLBOARD FOR WHO YOU ARE,” HE SAID IN SSENSE. HE’S THE FOUNDER OF BRAIN DEAD, A STREETWEAR BRAND RUN BY A LOS ANGELES-BASED CREATIVE COLLECTIVE OF ARTISTS AND DESIGNERS, WHO FEATURED IN OUR JULY EDITION OF

THE NEXT 20

“The best t-shirts are ones with an approach, a perspective, and a culture already around it,” he went on. Simultaneously, the t-shirt for Ng is a signal of individuality that defines itself as part of a collective and a cultural context. This year, when the Black Lives Matter protests began in Minneapolis and spread around the world, Ng had the idea of making none other than a t-shirt to both commemorate the moment, and raise money for the Movement for Black Lives. He contacted Dev Hynes of Blood Orange, and designed a shirt in two hours, putting it for sale the next day. It made $500,000. Ng did what he does best: putting the times in a graphic. Brain Dead is celebrated for immersing itself in the cultures of post-punk, skateboarding, and underground comics. Comfortable with collaborating, Ng has worked with brands such as The North Face, Levi’s, and even Shake Shack. Yet as international as his brand’s reach is, he is still attuned to LA at the local level. As a research practice, Brain Dead works with the people involved in a particular culture, which makes fashion and community organizing one and the same. With the Samsung Galaxy Z Fold2 5G’s “flex mode,” Ng is able to toggle through multiple windows at once, in the smartphone’s tablet mode, and compare designs and photos. It’s a boon for his Covid-era productivity, where sales (perhaps unusually) have been up 120%. For Highsnobiety, Ng photographed himself and his collaborators with the Z Fold2 in and around his studio, where he recently worked on a series of t-shirts inspired by horror movies for Halloween. Other scenes are more quotidian: journeys looking for mushrooms at the market, his dog. Perhaps most iconic of the moment, one photograph shows his mail-in ballot with the “I Voted” sticker an image emblematic of the brand itself and some of its core values.

ALEX JAMES

SHOT ON A SAMSUNG GALAXY Z FOLD2

DOWNTOWN NEW YORK

(JUN — AUG 2020)DOWNTOWN NEW YORKDOWNTOWN NEW YORK“ROCK ISN’T A TREND FOR ME NOR MY BRAND. I DON’T WEAR A SLAYER OR MOTÖRHEAD T-SHIRT BECAUSE I THINK THEY LOOK COOL, I WEAR THEM BECAUSE I’VE BEEN THRASHING TO THAT MUSIC IN MY BEDROOM LONG BEFORE THESE LAMES WERE AROUND,” SAYS ALEX JAMES, THE OWNER OF PLEASURES.

It’s a streetwear brand known for its DIY aesthetics drawn from music subcultures like metal and new wave, and has attracted the likes of The Weeknd, Kylie Jenner, A$AP Rocky, and Kim Jones. Growing up in the suburbs of New Jersey to working class parents, James came of age during the ‘80s and ‘90s, immersing himself in the music scene of New York that would hail this period the last of its kind, before the Internet and Giulani killed the underground. This was an era defined by Sonic Youth, CBGB’s, Chloe Sevigny in Kids. The last bastion of Gen-X culture. PLEASURES, which was launched in 2015, began as a way of making affordable clothing inspired by vintage band merch. Yet as laconic as he is about his design choices, James cares a lot about accessibility. “PLEASURES is an inclusive brand. We want to include everyone and not alienate our consumer,” he said in GOAT. This harkens back to his younger years spent rummaging through thrift stores and estate sales for clothes, and hanging out all day at record shops. Hence the touch of nostalgia in PLEASURES’ designs. The culture that it represents is of a recent past that might be seen as dead if people like James weren’t dedicated to preserving it. “Rock was around first and will be here forever,” he says. For Highsnobiety, James shot surprisingly intimate photos with the Samsung Galaxy Z Fold2 5G of scenes from his home life. Some of the smartphone’s features, like its hands-free shooting (all you have to do is wave at the camera and it’ll take a picture) allows for users to appear in portraits with others in front of the camera, like James does with his child. Other shots show scenes from his home, like his intricately woven carpet, or a bouquet of flowers. It’s a reminder that some of the most inspiring scenes in daily life are those closest to you.

JOE FRESHGOODS

SHOT ON A SAMSUNG GALAXY Z FOLD2

DOWNTOWN NEW YORK

(JUN — AUG 2020)DOWNTOWN NEW YORKDOWNTOWN NEW YORKIT WAS A BAD SITUATION THAT TURNED INTO A GOOD ONE. IN 2018, JOE FRESHGOODS — THE DESIGNER WHO CO-OWNS THE FAT TIGER WORKSHOP STORE IN CHICAGO—HAD A CONTRACT WITH ADIDAS TO RELEASE TWO SNEAKERS AND AN APPAREL COLLECTION, BUT THE DEAL FELL THROUGH LAST MINUTE.

The clothes were already made, so Freshgoods, who was able to retrieve the dead stock, went ahead and put it for sale for a 40 percent markdown at a drive-through fundraiser for public schools in Chicago. His hope was to raise money for the laptops, tablets, and headphones kids need for remote learning during quarantine. His dedication to Chicago runs deep. When Freshgoods drops a t-shirt at a pop-up in the city, lines stretch to over 90 minutes to cop them. It goes back to when he used to sell his own branded t-shirts secretly while he was working for the Chicago streetwear shop Leaders. People trust him because he’s committed to the city. Since the pandemic, he introduced Community Goods, a charitable brand that raises funds for small Black-owned businesses in Chicago and The Greater Chicago Food Depository. While working at Leaders, he met Chance The Rapper, whom he considers an old friend. In 2017, Chance went on to wear one of Freshgoods’ hoodies when accepting the award for Best Rap Performance. (It reads “Thank you.”) The exposure catapulted Freshgoods to a new national platform—raking in collaborations with McDonald’s, Nike, Chicago’s Museum of Contemporary Art, and the Chicago Bears—yet he has stayed true to his Chicago roots. Shot entirely with the Samsung Galaxy Z Fold2 5G, Freshgoods’ photos for Highsnobiety give us a look into his creative studio. The smartphone’s hands-free shooting also makes it even easier to take self-portraits, with having your arm awkwardly jutting to the corner of the picture. More shots show scenes from the Fat Tiger Workshop, and all its swag and splendor. It’s a space he co-owns with Terrell Jones and Desmond Owusu, and has been a stalwart in the local community. “We’re a community store,” he said in The Fader. “We’re like a barber shop.”

#samsung #joe freshgoods #kyle ng #brain dead #los angeles streetwear brands #chicago streetwear brands #american streetwear #streetwear designers #alex james #pleasures #pleasures now #new york nico #minority fashion designers #streetwear collaborations

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