Pilot (1/2)

"If you look for perfection, you will never be content." ***

Chanyeol’s mother had always told him that if you look for perfection, you’ll never be content. And Chanyeol is, true to this statement, never content; so intent he is on proving her wrong.

Chanyeol believes there can be perfection, it is embodied in the form of children that surround him, those older, younger, taller, shorter, but all with one thing in common; their genes. Parents of wealth and class can procure the perfect gene for their offspring, and these offspring grow up to be… well, perfect.

But Chanyeol is far from perfect.

Never given the chance to embody perfection himself, Chanyeol strives to become as close to the elusive word as he can. Chanyeol studies hard, he puts in more hours than those surrounding him, he tops his classes in school and brings the nation to a standstill.

It is common knowledge that those with the perfect gene will eclipse those of lower status, those just like Chanyeol. Such individuals have little hopes of becoming powerful or influential in society, as their intellect levels cannot match the perfect. People like Chanyeol are supposed to be confined to work on factory lines, forever wishing for something more.

But Chanyeol stands apart.

Although full of imperfection, both physically and intellectually, Chanyeol constantly surprises the rest of mankind in his battle for dominance. He is bullied often, and treated like an anomaly to a society he attempts to comprehend.

It is in this society that Chanyeol receives a small reprieve from his run-down life, a scholarship to a higher educational college that only the most elite of the perfect enters.

Chanyeol stands out with his oddly shaped eyes and imperfect jawline. Although people strive for larger eyes and flatter ears, Chanyeol was given ovular eyes perhaps a little too large for his liking, and ears that jut out perhaps a little too much. His teeth have always been naturally straight, but there are still flaws in his appearance. His arms are a little too long, his height and personality do not fit his deep voice.

He thinks he could have been so much more if he had been given the chance only the elite receive, but he is surprisingly content.

Chanyeol shrugs as he drags his suitcase along the platform, holding a ticket between his teeth. He is supposed to be situated at the back of the carriage, where the imperfect must sit apart. He will be heading to central Seoul soon enough, to his new school, one with a fancy French name. Elite Parfait, or simply ‘Elite Perfect’.

People give him odd stares as he boards, wearing simple grey trousers and a blazer enlaced with red and gold. This is his school uniform, and people start to think he doesn’t belong here with them.

Regardless of the stares, Chanyeol lugs his suitcase down the corridor, taking a seat by the window. He hears a buzz, and the train slowly pulls out of the station. Chanyeol watches as the countryside flies past him, the green fields slowly morphing into the cooler colours of greyed cement.

Everything in the city looks sleeker and shinier than it does in the outskirts; there are more cars with aerodynamic designs, more tall buildings with glass windows, wiped down and pristine. He sees sunlight dance across them, and he smiles. As the train pulls into a station, he jumps from his seat.

“Park Chanyeol?”