Name: Park Kyungri
Band / Solo: Nine Muses
Journal:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chrysopoetic
AIM: # milk and rosewater
Age / Year: 20; July 5 1994 / 3
Sorority: Delta Phi Epsilon
Major: Communications and Media Studies
Clubs / Sports: Drama, Soccer
Biography: Kyungri is her mother's first failure, and therefore the most easily forgiven: the unlucky first-born granddaughter of a Fortune Global conglomerate, destined to become no more than a footnote in her family empire's legacy.
But when two beautiful sisters follow, with twin wide eyes and dark lashes, her father's parents begin pressuring him to divorce. Their superstition blames some part of her mother’s biology, or, more dramatically, a covert disloyalty to the Park family, as if her body was punishing them out of spite. When her father refuses to denounce his eight-year marriage, the chairmanship passes to her uncle. (Her baby cousin has learned to call her 'noona'. She sees how her grandparents look at him with purpose.) She's not a snubbed heiress because the title was never hers to begin with.
One of their most lucrative subsidiary companies buys social media websites after they're done being cool, a fact that does not noticeably bolster your classroom popularity in a world where no one is allowed to walk out in last season's Louboutins. Occasionally they get hacked, leaking personal details behind 35,000,000 embarrassing old Cyworld usernames. Occasionally they’re caught committing accounting fraud, only to be predictably pardoned within the year. (It helps when you invest in politicians and sink millions into their summer homes.) Her father controls half of the country’s mobile service market share. One of her great-grandfathers was a former president. This year her uncle boasts a net worth of $4.2 billion USD. Kyungri is worth only her own potential.
Her father is the gentle giant whose shoulders she rode on when she was six, who never had his meals at home unless he was expecting guests but indulges her when she squeezes next to him on his leather recliner. "Appa,” she'll whine in front of his investors, “when will running the world stop taking, all, your, time!" She's heard enough from relatives that his Forbes Global 5000 ranking is not a feat this family should brag about, but it only provokes her stubborn, filial determination to flatter him more. She doesn't leave them alone until he finally smiles through his exasperation and and she's made them all laugh.
Her mother partitions her children's time between housekeepers and piano tutors, calligraphy lessons and dance recitals. She asks that her girls try not to dirty their hands but seldom refuses their chosen hobbies. Together they parent the only way they know how. He'll never make it to his daughters' school shows. She'll never remember Kyungri's favorite flavored birthday cake. Even so, Kyungri never doubts that they love her.
Years of summer enrichment programs test her into an international private school, where she learns the proper accents to her favorite French words, a ludicrous imitation of that movie-star California drawl, and the tonal inflection for the names of every Zhejiang boy she didn't kiss. (If your student journal claims she did, that's libel.) Does Paris really rain all the time? I've only been to Nice. I hear Hangzhou girls are pretty but are they prettier than me? Her vanity is genuine, she honestly was distracted trying to find her reflection in your lip gloss. It's also not-- when you finally shove her for preening insufferably all she does is fall over her chair and laugh. Her brand of shamelessness simply elicits a violent, disbelieving response. It's not anyone else's fault. And you're exasperated, sure, but you're also smiling.
Among all the world's revolving doors, Kyungri chooses a university close to home. To her New York was never more than a city-wide shopping mall, and Cambridge weather seemed awfully humid for her hair. At Yonsei she leaves her sorority house on long weekends and makes the dinner rounds with every member of her family, even her grandparents. She gets all the dramas on demand. When her father asks after her future plans, she wrinkles her nose and whines: "Your daughter needs time before she can take over the world."
Band / Solo: Nine Muses
Journal:
chrysopoeticAIM: # milk and rosewater
Age / Year: 20; July 5 1994 / 3
Sorority: Delta Phi Epsilon
Major: Communications and Media Studies
Clubs / Sports: Drama, Soccer
Biography: Kyungri is her mother's first failure, and therefore the most easily forgiven: the unlucky first-born granddaughter of a Fortune Global conglomerate, destined to become no more than a footnote in her family empire's legacy.
But when two beautiful sisters follow, with twin wide eyes and dark lashes, her father's parents begin pressuring him to divorce. Their superstition blames some part of her mother’s biology, or, more dramatically, a covert disloyalty to the Park family, as if her body was punishing them out of spite. When her father refuses to denounce his eight-year marriage, the chairmanship passes to her uncle. (Her baby cousin has learned to call her 'noona'. She sees how her grandparents look at him with purpose.) She's not a snubbed heiress because the title was never hers to begin with.
One of their most lucrative subsidiary companies buys social media websites after they're done being cool, a fact that does not noticeably bolster your classroom popularity in a world where no one is allowed to walk out in last season's Louboutins. Occasionally they get hacked, leaking personal details behind 35,000,000 embarrassing old Cyworld usernames. Occasionally they’re caught committing accounting fraud, only to be predictably pardoned within the year. (It helps when you invest in politicians and sink millions into their summer homes.) Her father controls half of the country’s mobile service market share. One of her great-grandfathers was a former president. This year her uncle boasts a net worth of $4.2 billion USD. Kyungri is worth only her own potential.
Her father is the gentle giant whose shoulders she rode on when she was six, who never had his meals at home unless he was expecting guests but indulges her when she squeezes next to him on his leather recliner. "Appa,” she'll whine in front of his investors, “when will running the world stop taking, all, your, time!" She's heard enough from relatives that his Forbes Global 5000 ranking is not a feat this family should brag about, but it only provokes her stubborn, filial determination to flatter him more. She doesn't leave them alone until he finally smiles through his exasperation and and she's made them all laugh.
Her mother partitions her children's time between housekeepers and piano tutors, calligraphy lessons and dance recitals. She asks that her girls try not to dirty their hands but seldom refuses their chosen hobbies. Together they parent the only way they know how. He'll never make it to his daughters' school shows. She'll never remember Kyungri's favorite flavored birthday cake. Even so, Kyungri never doubts that they love her.
Years of summer enrichment programs test her into an international private school, where she learns the proper accents to her favorite French words, a ludicrous imitation of that movie-star California drawl, and the tonal inflection for the names of every Zhejiang boy she didn't kiss. (If your student journal claims she did, that's libel.) Does Paris really rain all the time? I've only been to Nice. I hear Hangzhou girls are pretty but are they prettier than me? Her vanity is genuine, she honestly was distracted trying to find her reflection in your lip gloss. It's also not-- when you finally shove her for preening insufferably all she does is fall over her chair and laugh. Her brand of shamelessness simply elicits a violent, disbelieving response. It's not anyone else's fault. And you're exasperated, sure, but you're also smiling.
Among all the world's revolving doors, Kyungri chooses a university close to home. To her New York was never more than a city-wide shopping mall, and Cambridge weather seemed awfully humid for her hair. At Yonsei she leaves her sorority house on long weekends and makes the dinner rounds with every member of her family, even her grandparents. She gets all the dramas on demand. When her father asks after her future plans, she wrinkles her nose and whines: "Your daughter needs time before she can take over the world."
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