Alpha Trauma Novel - Chapter 1. First Love

Wooyeon’s first love was his English tutor. He was four years older, his gaze was two spans higher, and his fingers were more than a joint longer. Their first encounter, with him being so tall, upright, and mature, remained deeply etched in Wooyeon’s heart even after a long time.

‘Your name is… Seon Wooyeon?’

It was the first time Wooyeon realized a voice could be so gentle. That he smelled good even without perfume, that his English pronunciation wasn’t overly oily, that his hand holding the pen was neat, and that his sitting posture was upright.

‘Such a pretty name.’

His soft, low voice wrapped around Wooyeon’s ears. He had merely asked for a name, yet it was as sweet as a song. The same was true for the kind endearment that followed.

‘Please take care of me, Yeon-ah.’

He was different from the peers Wooyeon usually saw around him. Unlike those full of childish bravado and self-aggrandizement, he was appropriately thoughtful and appropriately considerate. When the shy Wooyeon performed a silent meditation without a word, he would wait endlessly with a gentle smile.

That was why. Wooyeon couldn’t correct his name from ‘Seon Wooyeon’ to ‘Seon-woo Yeon.’ At sixteen, the young Wooyeon’s heart fluttered immensely at being called ‘Yeon-ah.’

‘…Are you an Alpha, Teacher?’

The first day Wooyeon asked that, the other person looked back at Wooyeon with a calm gaze. He even gently echoed the question in that familiar kind voice.

‘Why, do I seem like an Alpha?’

It was something he couldn’t bring himself to affirm. Wooyeon grew up under an Alpha mother, was educated by an Alpha tutor, and was bullied by Alpha friends. Alpha, Alpha, Alpha. In an environment dominated by Alphas, he learned about Alphas even without presenting himself.

‘…No.’

Therefore, such a gentle person couldn’t possibly be an Alpha. The Alphas Wooyeon knew were scary, overbearing, and utterly self-centered.

‘You don’t seem like an Alpha.’

His trembling heart flung open its doors. The faint upward curve of his lips was etched into Wooyeon’s eyes. It was a radiant smile, like a flower in a bright spring season.

From that day on, Wooyeon waited for tutoring time every single day. Three times a week, two hours each time. The total of six-odd hours of English tutoring was like a welcome rain in a drought-stricken life. When he spread out his English workbook and notebook and waited for the teacher, he even felt the illusion that the whole world was on his side.

‘Hey, fatty.’

But that didn’t solve the famine he was experiencing. At that time, Wooyeon, who was obese enough to be advised to diet, was a perfect target for adolescents going through puberty. He wore thick glasses so his expression wasn’t visible, and his personality was prickly, so the level of bullying increased day by day.

‘F*ck, ignoring me again?’

It was the leader of the group that always bullied Wooyeon. He was also one of the Alphas Wooyeon intensely detested. The guy chuckled and tapped Wooyeon’s head with his finger, looking down at him.

‘Answer me, huh?’

Wooyeon silently pulled out his phone. Just then, a text message arrived from the teacher. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a very welcome message.

‘Wow, look at this jerk playing dumb.’

The message said that tutoring would be difficult today because it was the festival. It politely asked if the lesson could be postponed, and sincere apologies were evident in the text. As Wooyeon was about to reply, putting aside his disappointment, the phone was snatched from his hand.

‘Let’s see… Yeon-ah, Teacher is busy today because of the festival… What is it, Yeonie?’

His face flushed instantly. It wasn’t because he recalled the nickname ‘fatty’ he always heard. It was because the emotion, the feeling contained in the address ‘Yeon-ah,’ felt dirtily tarnished.

‘Yeonie, my ass, he’s just a damn fatty.’

For the first time since being bullied, Wooyeon glared at him. He usually ignored them or avoided the situation, but this time, he couldn’t stand it. At Wooyeon’s reaction, the guy snorted in disbelief.

‘Oh, look at him, opening his eyes like that.’

He didn’t like the way the guy was toying with his phone. The same went for how he scrolled through the messages, mocking each one.

‘…Give me back my phone.’

‘What?’

‘I said give it back.’

‘Hey, who said I was taking it? I just want to look at it…’

Before he could say anything, Wooyeon stood up quickly. The problem was that the startled guy instinctively pushed Wooyeon away. Crash! Wooyeon fell along with the desk, tumbling helplessly on the floor.

‘…’

His glasses flew off a distance. Those who had pretended not to notice were now looking at them. Wooyeon bit his lower lip, a wave of humiliation washing over him. The guy, looking at the fallen Wooyeon with a flustered expression, irritably threw the phone.

‘Ah, damn it.’

The phone, having left the guy’s hand, was miserably shattered. The cracked screen was like Wooyeon’s own feelings. As if that wasn’t enough, the guy even kicked the broken phone with his slipper.

‘Your family’s rich, what’s a phone like this to you…’

After that, his memory was hazy. When he came to his senses, he was sitting in the teacher’s office with the guy whose face was swollen. Soon after, his mother was called, and the teacher, flustered, showed her the broken phone.

‘He will be dismissed for the day.’

As always, everything was resolved with money. His mother, who had nothing but money, even received an apology from the teacher as she left the office. She didn’t look at Wooyeon, nor did she ask why he did it. She just repeatedly checked the time and uttered a single phrase.

‘I don’t have time to take you, so take a taxi. This should be enough for the fare, right?’

The wad of cash in her hand was utterly insincere. It was enough money to take a taxi more than ten times, but he couldn’t even think of taking it and just lowered his gaze. To him, silently bowing his head, another calm option was given.

‘Or should I call Driver Yoon?’

He didn’t cry. His eyes stung, but he knew what words would come back if he cried here. Don’t cry recklessly, think of your dignity, or a sigh, something like that.

‘And the glasses…’

In the end, Wooyeon took a taxi home. It was more comfortable than riding in Driver Yoon’s robot-like car. His already broken glasses were better off not worn at all, and he gave all the money he had to the taxi driver and got out of the car.

‘…’

Entering an empty house always brought with it unimaginable loneliness. The needlessly spacious house was so quiet you could hear an ant crawl. In that surreal space where time seemed to have stopped, Wooyeon collapsed weakly in a corner of the living room.

It was a devastating feeling. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but he just felt miserable. The shattered phone, his mother who ignored it as if she didn’t know, and the guy he would have to face again tomorrow. It was all the same.

He rushed back to his room, and frantically burrowed into his bed. The cold duvet offered Wooyeon no comfort. With tutoring canceled today, he would remain alone until late into the night. He even felt like he wanted to disappear like a corpse, without a trace.

Wooyeon fell asleep a few tens of minutes later. The duvet covering his face was incredibly stifling, but it ultimately didn’t stop Wooyeon’s breathing.

When he opened his eyes, the room was dark, and he heard someone pressing the doorbell.

‘There’s no one who would come…’

He couldn’t think of anyone. In a neighborhood with grand houses, even peddlers were intimidated and didn’t approach. He thought they would leave soon, but the loud doorbell showed no sign of stopping.

‘…Who is it?’

Left with no choice, Wooyeon dragged his heavy body out. He picked up the intercom connected to the outside and asked half-heartedly, and an unbelievable answer came back.

‘Yeon-ah, it’s Teacher.’

It was the person he had been waiting for all along. The person whose absence had choked him with disappointment, thinking he wouldn’t see him today. Wooyeon, with trembling hands, pressed the button and quickly ran to the front door.

Click, as soon as the door opened, a familiar figure appeared. His steps across the garden seemed a little faster than usual. In the blink of an eye, the person who had approached so close smiled warmly and let out a sigh of relief.

‘Thank goodness, I thought you weren’t home. The festival ended earlier than I expected, so I can have the lesson today. I called just in case, but you didn’t answer…’

All of this felt unreal. His blurred vision, his slightly flattened hair, and even the gaze that slowly took him in.

‘…Did something happen?’

Tears burst forth at such a trivial question. Even though he knew the teacher would be flustered, Wooyeon couldn’t control the surging emotions. The sudden crying pushed Wooyeon relentlessly until his breathing became ragged.

‘Tea, Teacher… hic…’

Wooyeon sobbed like a child and sank to the floor. The teacher, flustered, knelt down with him and gently patted Wooyeon’s back. A faint scent of flowers wafted from close by.

‘What’s wrong, Yeon-ah. Are you okay?’

Wooyeon just wanted him to ask what was wrong. It wasn’t an act for attention, but it wasn’t that he didn’t want attention either. He didn’t want to ride in Driver Yoon’s robot-like car, and he also disliked taxis where he would be subjected to other people’s stares. He just wanted to be asked if he was okay, and why he was like this.

‘Are you hurt anywhere? Look at me, Yeon-ah?’

The more he comforted him, the more various sorrows welled up. The pent-up emotions flowed out like a river that had lost its dam.

After a long time, and a long period of sadness, Wooyeon finally managed to gasp for breath and lift his head.

‘Are you done crying?’

Unbeknownst to him, Wooyeon was already embraced in a warm hug. The face right in front of him was still quiet and peaceful. He casually wiped Wooyeon’s face with his sleeve and covered Wooyeon’s forehead with his large hand.

‘Doesn’t seem like you’re hurt…’

His heart sank. His face turned red, and his throat tickled incessantly. His uncontrolled facial muscles felt like they would involuntarily make strange expressions. Thump, thump, his wildly beating heart wouldn’t calm down no matter how hard Wooyeon tried.

Only then did he vaguely understand. The feeling of wanting to see him, of wanting to be with him. The sensation of his spirits, which had sunk to the bottom, suddenly floating upwards. Wooyeon vaguely named all of this ‘first love.’