Good Enough
A Vincenzo Fanfic
Jang Han Seo was not a good student. He didn’t enjoy reading like some of his classmates, and he couldn’t answer all the questions like others. He preferred making other people laugh. He was good at that.
He made his teachers laugh sometimes, but he got in trouble anyway. “You should be more like your brother,” they said. Han Seok always made good grades and never got in trouble–not even when the kids who annoyed him got hurt or disappeared.
Han Seo tried. His classmates made fun of him when he made a mistake, and the teachers lectured him for not paying attention, but he tried. He wanted to learn, wanted to help his father and his brother, wanted to do well in the company when he grew up. His grades went up, but they would never match his brother’s.
Han Seo was not a good son. He wasn’t even supposed to exist; he was a walking testimony to his father’s mistakes and a bundle of his own as well.
His father had never been a loving man, but when he sent Han Seok to the U.S. and set up an appointment every few days with a nice therapist, Han See began to think this was his father’s way of showing he cared.
The therapist talked to him often. She helped him feel better when he was scared and helped him remember he was safe. He liked her very much and was sorry to see her go.
Life began to feel easier, lighter, in ways he couldn’t explain–until his father came home drunk one night.
“What am I supposed to do with you?” he asked, pointing at Han Seo. “You can’t run the company on your own. It was supposed to go to your brother, but you ruined that. He’s gone now because of you, so what am I supposed to do now?”
After that, the question came more and more frequently, whether he was drunk or sober.
No, Han Seo was not a good son. He was not someone his father could rely on, and he was not someone his father could be proud of.
When his father fell sick, he sat in the hospital every day, waiting for him to get better. “What a good son you are,” the nurses crooned, but when his brother helped their father on to the world beyond, Han Seo said nothing.
Han Seo was not a good CEO. His brother made that very clear. He was not to make decisions or answer questions on his own. Every time he tried, he failed. He was better off sitting quietly as the face of the company while his brother ran things from behind the scenes.
Han Seok was the smart one, the one who came up with all the business plans, the one who always knew what to do, so Han Seo followed everything he said.
He kept most of his ideas to himself. When he did speak one aloud, his brother always nodded encouragingly, but squeezed his shoulder too tight to let him know he wasn’t in the mood to listen. Or he flipped over the table.
It was Han Seok who approved RDU. It was Han Seok who began creation of the new batteries. It was Han Seok who decided to auction off the new Babel Tower.
Han Seo sat, watched, and reaped the benefits and glory. It didn’t seem quite right, but he stayed silent, and was grateful.
Han Seo was not a good brother. That thought kept circling through his head as he sat in the hospital, blood-covered hands trembling, waiting for his brother to get out of surgery. He wondered if Han Seok would kill him. He probably deserved it.
But his brother didn’t kill him. He became CEO instead.
Han Seo was terrified. His brother was quiet, and it felt like the calm before the storm. He didn’t know how long he could go before the suspense killed him without his brother lifting a finger.
Then, on the day of his inauguration, Han Seok caught his tie, dragged him closer, and leered in his face. “I would love to kill you,” he said, “but if you die, there’s no one to take the rap for me.”
Han Seo couldn’t breathe, but he doubted it had anything to do with the tie pulled tight around his throat.
“If there’s ever a chance of me going to prison,” Han Seok continued, “you get to take the fall. Got it?”
Han Seo forced a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. I will do whatever it takes.”
A few days later, he asked Seung-Hyuk to set up a meeting with Vincenzo. It was clear he couldn’t get rid of his brother on his own.
Han Seo was not a good businessman. Vincenzo and Cha Young quizzed him and he failed. He went home and tried to remember what sort of hand Cha Young had said it was. He had been so certain it was a polite one.
He studied. He had never been good at it, but he studied. He would prove he could be a good businessman once his brother was gone.
Vincenzo asked if he had studied. He asked the next time too, and the next. Han Seo was proud to answer he had. He was able to prove it even. He didn’t answer every question correctly, not by a long shot, but he did answer some.
Vincenzo didn’t look impressed. Then again, he probably never did. It didn’t matter. Han Seo wasn’t a good businessman, but he would try to become one, no matter what it took.
Han Seo was not a good friend. He hadn’t listened when Vincenzo told him to leave, and now it was his fault Cha Young had been shot. He was certain if he hand’t been there, Vincenzo would have figured out some way to get the gun from his brother and leave with Cha Young.
He saw the surprise on his brother’s face when he realized who he had shot, then the resolution as he lifted the gun to point at Vincenzo. Han Seo didn’t think–he just grabbed it.
When the shot came, it hurt too much to think about anything else. He sank to the floor and barely registered as his brother fled and Vincenzo chased after him.
At some point the shock cleared enough to notice Vincenzo had returned. “Brother,” Han Seo whispered, and Vincenzo crawled closer.
“Did I do well?” he asked quietly.
You did. You really made me proud, brother," Vincenzo murmured as he cupped his head in his hands in a gesture that felt more brotherly than anything his actual brother had ever done.
“I think–I’ve finally–done something good,” Han Seo stammered. He pulled out his phone and held it out. “You know what to do.” He hoped Vincenzo remembered the day they had eaten ramen in his small apartment as well as he did. If not, he would figure it out.
Vincenzo took it, and Han Seo was sure everything would be fine.
“Thank you–for everything.” As Han Seo breathed his last, he realized that maybe he wasn’t good, and maybe he never had been, but even so, he was good enough.