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The house has never felt so cold before.

You sigh and pack the untouched food to store for the next morning. You put the dishes into the sink and let the water run as you lean on the platform with your head hung low.

You are confused and worried. 

You want to make sure both of them were okay but Jun made it clear enough that he wants his personal space. You were shocked at first, hearing those words from him but then you started to realise how caged he must feel. Junho's really growing up now.

Being a child of a famous idol isn't an easy thing. You are surrounded by eyes all the time.

You are aware of how he feared going out alone if someone recognises him and decides to trouble him. That's why you always had people around him, be it driver, caretaker or friends but now he has grown up and was still being treated like that. Like someone who always needs someone to be taken care of. 

But you weren't aware of him feeling the lack of personal space, since he too bottles up his emotions like his father.

Jungkook too, won't talk about it unless you push him on the edge. What is troubling you, Kook? You know you won't get an answer to this question so easily. So, you quietly clean the dishes and put them into the dishwasher, also preparing yourself to talk to both of them.

When you are done, you wipe your hands and then walk to Jun's bedroom. Heaving a sigh, you knock on the door and peek inside.

"Mom?" you are greeted with your son, hunched over his phone in the corner. You look at him, waiting if he says something in terms of not wanting to talk but when he stays silent—you slowly walk inside and sit beside him. He turns his head away. You know it means he doesn't want to talk but he needs someone to be there for him.

"Jun-"

"Whose side are you on mom?" he speaks, not letting you complete your sentence. He is pretty sure you would try to console him and he doesn't want that. You are caught off guard with his question and just keep blinking dumbfoundedly at him for a few moments.

"We talk if you are on my side or else if you are with dad in this, I don't want to. . ."

"It's not about taking sides," you reason.

"It is!" he looks at you, "If you are against my dream then you are with dad," he mumbles, fidgeting with his fingers.

"He is not against it Jun. Why do you think he would be?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, "Maybe . . .he doesn't want me to get famous like him. . ." he says, annoyance clearly evident in his tone. You widen your eyes and shake your head at that.

"Why would you think that? Your dad just needs time—"

"See! You are on his side," he stands up and trudges to his bed. 

You stand up as well, facing him, "Whatever he would do, he would do it to want the best for you. If you were interested in pursuing your dream, you should have told us before. We wouldn't have known if your dad didn't find your notebook,"

"I knew you were gonna be against it," he says, his voice very low. You could hear the waver in his voice and you know he wants to cry. Your heart hurts. Just how much had the boy been keeping things inside? Were you so blind to all of it?

You sit beside him and place a hand on his back,"Jun. Communication is the key. You need to tell us stuff for us to know. For you to know if what you think about us is correct or not,"

"I am not wrong . . . Dad is against it,"

You sigh and place your hand back on your lap. "He will talk it out. Don't worry and sleep. You have school early morning," you place a soft kiss on his temple and he groans, wiping it a little. You smile and shake your head, before giving him the space he needs.

When you walk out of the bedroom and stand before yours, you sigh, "Now the big baby..."  and turn the doorknob open.

As expected, there's a pile of blankets and there's your husband hiding underneath it with just a foot out to not feel hot. Don't ask, there's no logic but just Jungkook's self consoling ways.

"Kook,"  

You sit on your side of the bed with your body turned towards his covered form. He shuffles under the blankets before popping out his head. Oh, there goes your heart.

"Oh . . . H- hey..." he awkwardly says. It is his habit, to feel awkward when he can't muster up the courage to face things so important. He's been more ever since Junho started middle school. His red nose and glistened eyes make your heart drop and you immediately lean down to peck his lips. "Where did that come from . . ." he mumbles under his breath, sitting up.

And he knows from the look you are giving him, that you want to ask questions. But he won't acknowledge it just because he has that option. You don't back out either and look at him in his eyes before shifting closer to him. "What's the matter, Kook?"

"I . . ." he trails off and his voice breaks. He hesitates to speak but when his eyes meet yours and you give him a slight nod, he knows. He knows you will be here for him, no matter what.

He sighs and leans back on the headboard. He stares at the ceiling for a while, and then he says, "I don't want to be seen as a bad father here . . . an unsupportive one. Tell me which father won't like seeing his child pursue his dreams . . . I am just afraid . . ."

He stops to look at you. You nod again to let him know that you are listening and he continues," I am just afraid he will be suffering too much when he chooses this field . . . It's brutal and he is a kid—I can't see him that way."

You nod and place your hand on his, "Hardships are everywhere, Kook. In everything we do. That doesn't mean we stop doing that,"

"But it is different!" he raises his voice a bit and sighs when he realises that he did before continuing in a lower tone, "Hardships as an idol is different. No one knows it better than you,"

"I am sure Jun knows about it . . . He must have thought of it, he has seen the lives of idols at the personal level," you say.

"It's not the same for everyone," he shakes his head and looks away from you. You furrow your eyebrows, "Is this why are you so against it? Because you don't want your child to face hardships in life?" 

The one who sent his child at numerous college camps when he was just in school for his son to get a taste of life is refusing to just not let his child face hardships? You don't get it.

He nods his head and faces you. 

"You want to butter up the life for him? Do you think any other profession won't give him a hard time? You think he isn't having a hard time right now?" you try to reason his opinion out.

"You don't understand," he shrugs, pulling cover further up to lie down again.

"Then make me understand it!" you whine, pulling away the cover from him.

"You . . " he sighs and looks at you, "I don't want him to see him suffer like you. You know how it has been for you. You performed every stage like it was your last one. You didn't know when you could be just thrown out of the industry helplessly!"

Hearing his words, A lump forms in your throat. Your debut memories haven't ever been good enough to remember.

"I just can't see my child living the same life I did, or maybe even worse," he says almost in one breath. You look up at him. He is finally opening up his mind and you can't help but feel heartbroken.

"Kook . . . You know it—"

"Leave that . . . What if people compare him to me? What if he just remains my shadow?"

And your heart shatters. A shadow? Why didn't you ever think of that? 

Before you could speak. . . you hear the sound of glass breaking from the hall. You share a glance with Jungkook for a moment before you both rush your way out of the room. You halt just at your room's doorstep and Jungkook looks over your shoulder at Junho crouched down, picking up the glass pieces. It was a glass vase and it was placed on the table just outside your room. 

You sigh and crouch down too, "I will do it,"

Junho doesn't say anything but continues picking up the pieces. 

And you knew, you know he was feeling guilty of something. You take the pieces from him and throw them away. By the time you are done, Jinha comes outside while rubbing her eyes. "Papa . . ." she softly says.

Jungkook looks down at her and his gaze softens. "Mumma will put you to sleep again," you say and pick her up.

"Mumma, tell Papa to lower the volume of the TV. It's too loud," she mumbles and covers her ears in an attempt of telling how disturbing it was for her. You sigh and smile at her then walk into her room, leaving Jungkook behind with a motionless Junho.

Jungkook sighs and massages his temples with his fingers. Junho looks at him and sees a look on his dad he has never seen and neither did he expect to see it now. He looks so vulnerable, so tired— it scares Junho. 

Looking up to the ceiling to stop his developing tears from falling, he doesn't understand why he wants to cry when his body is literally filled with anger and frustration.

"Let's have a talk Junho," Jungkook says. 

That was all Junho needed to clutch the ends of his t-shirt tighter to stop the tears which now dare to fall down. He was hurt that his dad was so upset about it that he refuses to address him the way he usually does.

He called his full name! Not Jun or Champ.. or something else.

Jungkook walks to the couch and sits down, leaning forward with his elbows digging his knees. Junho timidly follows and sits opposite of him.

It is silent for a few minutes.

Both of them seem to be contemplating on speaking correctly so that the other one doesn't get hurt. "Jun..." Jungkook says and looks up at his son, right in his eyes. "Do you really want to do it?"

Junho bites his lower lip and then nods, "Yes dad, I want to,"

"Have you thoroughly thought about it? It is about your career..."

Junho furrows his eyebrows. He is confused whether his dad is genuine or if he is trying to emotionally guilt-trip him. But he is too exhausted to even speak up about it. "Yes, I did,"

"Look," Jungkook says and rests his back on the couch, "As a person who has been in this field and knows it in and out, I don't think I would want you to pursue your dream,"

"But dad—"

"Listen first," Jungkook sternly interrupts.

"You are my child Jun. I don't want people to compare you to me which is for sure going to happen once the word gets out that you are my son,"

Junho looks away. He did hear his mom and dad's little talk from outside the door and ended up getting overwhelmed enough to not notice the vase and ended up knocking it down.

"I don't want people to say that Jeon Junho's father was also an idol and neither want them to say Jeon Jungkook's son was an idol,"

Jun looks back to his father, he knows he is having a hard time opening up to his child. "People forget that despite you being my child. . . having my blood. .you are still your own individual. . .that you are different from me. You will have different talents than me, different tastes than me. You are and you will be, Jeon Junho,"

Something creeps up in Junho's heart. It is hurting him, squeezing the air in his lungs.

Jungkook sighs. "I am afraid that your struggles will be overlooked. They will see that the path was always laid down for you and that you wouldn't have a hard time being an idol,"

A tear escapes from Junho's eye at his dad's bittersweet but true words. "But no. . . clearly, that won't be the case. You would have it hard to. You would get exhausted too, you would sweat too, you would get hurt too," Jungkook's voice cracks.

"Dad . . ." Junho whimpers.

He is taking in every word his dad speaks. Не is trying to understand Jungkook's worries. Whereas Jungkook's eyes never leave Junho's face. They scan his actions, every movement of his.

He wants his son to understand that from his view the only thing he sees is a struggle. Struggle he will face alone.

Jungkook stands up, pats Junho's shoulder and quietly walks to his bedroom. When you come out of Jinha's room after putting her to sleep, you see Junho sitting on the couch, with head hung low and hands shaking. You slowly walk up to him and place your hand on his shaking ones. Junho looks up at you, he sniffles and leans on your shoulder for a few seconds. 

Your heart clenches, and somehow you manage to ask him to go and sleep.

He does get up to go to his room and sleep but he knows he wouldn't even be able to close his eyes. His train of thought revolves around one thing. His dream. 

Perhaps his father told him something he didn't know.

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