But he had always wondered...always asked himself what if he didn't have these things? What if he didn't want these things?
His problem wasn't greed or ungratefulness, he desired the opposite of these riches.
He preferred hanging behind alleys to playing soccer after school, he liked hearing stories from friends going through hardships.
He didn't understand why, he simply wished his life wasn't so perfect, so set out.
His wish became fulfilled at age sixteen.
His father made an investment much too big for himself and ended up in illegal affairs.
His rivals found out and used the information against him. While he managed to bribe his way out, his reputation was ruined, rumours marring his public image.
Namjoon found it oddly satisfying.
Why shouldn't his parents know hardship and tribulation? They had a twisted perspective of the world, too optimistic, too in denial.
But he himself didn't realize just how cruel the world was.
The night before his eighteenth birthday, Namjoon had gone to the basement to check on his puppies.
He heard voices, hostile ones.
On instinct, he locked the door and hid.
When he finally had the nerve to come out, the intruders were gone and the only thing left was a scattered house and his mother and father left cold and bleeding on the marble floor.
His body went cold and numb as he knelt down next to them.
He didn't know how to feel, how to grieve.
The reigns of the shaky business passed to him.
But Namjoon made up his mind the second he watched his parents' graves lower into the dark and thick dirt.
He was not his father.
If the business was his, it would run his way.
It would be evil and corrupt and dangerous.
And he would make sure the tragedy that was his parents' life would not be his.
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