Jung Yunho hated kids. He hated their wide eyes, their incessant questions, their teen years plagued with discomfort and awkwardness that he seemed to recall much more easily than he would have liked. So it went without saying that teaching a batch of ungrateful high schoolers was not his ideal job. Unfortunately, it was the job he was stuck with, the job he had to push through and deal with as painlessly as he could manage as long as the promise of a paycheck was in reach. 

Warm summer winds sing unbridled temptation, and young Lee Taemin cries for inspiration. 

Welcome to the land of lost souls, the walking dead. Where the blinding hallways that stink with the stench of the barely alive stretch miles behind your eyes. Where the demons decked in white feed you medicine, lies, and feigned sympathy. Where the only voice I hear is the one in the back of my mind, the voice that drips with contempt and tears me to shreds with every insult whispered into my ears. The voice that’s ever-present. The voice that’s always there

Taemin and Minho. Minho and Taemin. An undeniable love, a lifelong connection, a tangle of hearts against a lifeless backdrop. For two people to find each other among millions is an incredible rarity.  But when it happens, it really is a beautiful thing.