#is it's too hard to fit it all into 1 thing ok SCREE

[lgcmax]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 : tell your parents you’re a failure.

max presses search. it takes him to some bogus article about accepting your flaws and how to let your parents hear your point of view from a fresh perspective

but you aren’t getting the point, max complains as he closes the tab. they don’t listen.

as far as his parents are concerned, there’s a 3-step track to success. respect your parents, go to college, and get a good job. well, there were flaws in all those if you asked him. first off - his mom commanded respect, which made the idea seem a lot less like a conscious choice and more so a compulsive obligation. second, he hated every minute he spent in college, and it had only held him back when practicing as a trainee. third of all, max knew more people with stable jobs who weren’t happy than who were, and he's definitely a passion over profit type of guy.

so why was he breaking his back to attend class when it was only bringing him down ? 

max looks down at the list in front of him. there, in messy handwriting and in bullet points laid a list titled -

why i need to leave college before i make my brain explode and i can’t rap anymore. 

i have to walk to school

it makes me tired during practice

mom will want me to stop being a rapper

dad will want me to be a business guy like him

i hate school

i have no college friends

i hate going to class

i sleep in class

i hate school ( again )

mom will want me to stop being a rapper ( again )

 the idea of growing old, wearing a suit, and making people who weren’t as wealthy as him feel bad about himself made him feel sick. he wanted power, but ... a different kind. the better kind. the power to say “ jump ” and have the crowd ask “ how high, ” to have his intro play and make the crowd go wild, to forever imprint the entertainment industry with the name max choi. but there’s just one problem. max looks to the other list he’s created.

why i can’t leave college before i make my brain explode and i can’t rap anymore.

mom and dad

well really, his mother. he knows his dad took a gap year before starting university, which is something his mom hated for him to mention, despite being the truth. his mom had pushed him since birth to attend a school in the ivy league, and had irreversibly disappointed her when news of him moving to korea broke. fine then, plan b - attend one of the sky schools, the holy trinity of korean universities. max had opted out for a more local, and less competitive option.  if it seemed he couldn’t make it any worse, being alone in a country without any guidance meant max could flunk classes to his heart’s content, his parent’s given tuition money being the only thing truly on the line. but even his dad, far less restrictive than his mother, put a certain emphasis on school for the social and economic status it “ inevitably ” gave you, in his words. moral of the story ? dropping out wasn’t an option.

well if that was the case, it seems max has once again danced to the beat of his very own, rebellious drum. because above the two lists lied another paper with the haunting words- acknowledgement of academic termination. in simpler terms, though ? holy shit. almost teasingly, they provided both an english and korean translation, just in case he wanted to break the news to his parents in his native tongue. how convenient. the notice acknowledged his decision to drop out, and informed him a notice would be sent within 24 hours for tuition financial options following the leaving of the university. his parents, paying his tuition, were inevitably going to find out.

the haunting word “ mom ” glows from his screen as he swallows his nerves. before he can do anything, he presses call. it’s now or never.

“ max, didn’t you get my call earlier ? ” she asks him, already notably irritated.

“mm, i did. i couldn’t pick up though. practice. ” he answers, a hushed whisper as to prevent anyone nearby from hearing. 

“ you don’t practice at this tim- ”

“ i do now, mom. i have to do more now that future dreams is - ”

“ maxwell choi, don’t you dare interrupt me when i’m speaking. why did you call ? your dad’s still at work. ” ironic. and it’s max, for the hundreth time in my life.

“ mom i ... i ... ” he expects to feel nervous, scared, sad. and then, it hits him. this is a good thing. this means more time with his friends and his girlfriend, more time to practice, to explore the world around him without any restraints. this is what he wants. the list of why versus why not is so much bigger, so why should he feel afraid ? suddenly, he feels ... defiant. the type of defiance that always makes him feel good. he grins, and speaks as if he’s told her some great secret.

“ i dropped out. ”

“ of legacy ? thank god, i told you it wouldn’t work out. those trainees are all the same, delusional and not - ”

“ no, mom. ” the light that just emerged starts to dim. “ i dropped out ... of school. ”

silence. so much silence that max feels as if he’s not even in the room.

“ ... mom ? ” 

he hears her breathing. 

“ maxwell choi. ” her voice sounds like an engine, revving itself up. “ you have five minutes to beg them to re-enroll you in your classes as soon as possible, or tell me this is a joke. if you think i’m kidding, i swear to god, i’ll have your card frozen and number blocked before you can blink. and i’ll do whatever it takes to get you out of that training program, too. you won’t be considered a son of mine as a dropout, i swear to god. i dare you to test me. ”

holy shit.

beep. call dropped.

 max looks to his phone, which has turned black. he feels like he’s going to pass out at any minute. he wishes he could say she had overreacted, that she never would think of doing something like that. but he knows his mom, and her tone is one that oozes with sincerity and threats. the idea of her following through makes him sick. 

and yet ? five, ten, fifteen agonizing minutes pass, and he doesn’t do a single thing. he’s a daredevil by nature, but this is his first act of defiance amongst his true challenge - his mother.