Youngjae traced the words written on his arm with his finger. He hated them, he hated every single word on his skin, they felt like a disease that he had to wash off in order to be able to breathe again. But there was no point trying, no matter how hot he showered and how much he scrubbed his skin, the words would not disappear. As much as he wanted to blame the universe for his fate, deep down he knew that the black writing on himself were his own creation.

Other people had words in pretty curves and lines written on their skin but no matter which part of his body he observed, every line was messy and just not nice to look at, even the few nice words he had said looked ugly. He was ugly. Almost his whole body was covered in lines written in black, as dark as his soul, dull and sorrowful - at least the colour suited him. The words were just a reflection from what was hiding inside of him, he was just ugly from the inside like he was on the outside. Too many times he had lost control over himself and before he knew, the words were spoken, leaving ugly trails for everyone to see and no matter how much he wished he could change, it took an average adult about 10 years to completely replace the words imprinted on their skin.

Humans carried their history open on their skin, every word spoken would immediately be engraved until everything but their face was an open book for everyone to read. At one point, people had seen this whim of nature as a blessing for humankind, thinking it would lead to more caution and peace between humans because rotten apples could be distinguished easily. For Youngjae, it was a curse because he was one of those rotten apples. He was one of the ugly ones. And there were a lot of other ugly people out there too.

No matter how cold or hot it was outside, Youngjae always wore clothes that covered his arms and his neck completely. The people around him had gotten used to it long ago and in exchange, Youngjae had gotten used to people avoiding him. He had something to hide and that was crucial enough for others to decide that they didn't want to be around him. But Youngjae rather bore the burden of people fearing what he could be than living with the knowledge that people despised him for what he actually was. It was better that way. He usually walked through the streets with slouched shoulders and his gaze lowered to the ground, he didn't want to make eye-contact nor witness how people purposely cross to the other side of the road, far away from him.

Youngjae liked winter the most because during this time he could pretend for a while that he wasn't hiding. When it was cold outside, Youngjae could feel normal for a while. Sometimes he would board a train and just travel to another city where nobody knew him. People were actually friendly to him, if it was a little boy calling him 'hyung' or the elderly lady who offered him Kimbap in such a kind manner that he couldn't help but smile and accept the food with a bow. But winter was too short and he smiled way too little, he had no reason to although he wished that things were different for him.

For the rest of the year, he was the outsider. His way to college was always the same, it was always the same crowded train with mostly the same faces. Even though it was full with people, Youngjae always managed to have enough space, the other passengers always made sure to keep some distance to him as if he had a contagious disease they didn't want to catch. A part of him was hurt that nobody wanted to make the effort to look past what they could see but then, he probably wouldn't react any different if he was in their place. When he left the train, he always saw the same people, other students from his University. They always talked about him, he could feel the looks prickling at his skin and in the rare occasions he looked back, he saw them whispering and pointing at him. But they never ever talked with him.

Youngjae wasn't the only outsider though. There was a boy in his classes that was probably even more mysterious and talked about than he was. Jung Daehyun, the boy who never spoke. Nobody had ever heard him say a word and from what Youngjae had picked up from the other's conversations, his arms and legs were completely bare of words. People had questioned if he was mute but he didn't seem to want any interactions in another way either so people stopped approaching him. Now they were often talking about him but rarely in a malicious way. They saved those words for Youngjae and he wondered if one day they would be the ones hiding in shame of what they had said, if they would be the ones looking at their skin and want to rip it off just like he did.

This was Youngjae's routine of loneliness.

He had two more years of University before he could hopefully apply for a decent job that required him wearing a suit for every occasion so he didn't have to worry about exposure. Since he had no one to spend his free time with, he used all his energy to get the best grades so at least this would not be another obstacle in his future. Youngjae looked out of the window, watching other students playing football during their free period. They were smiling. In the past there had been times he had wished to be one of them but were they really better than him? All the words they had said about him were somewhere written down on their body, an evidence for a lot of years.

The bell rang to release them for lunch break, the time of the day Youngjae dreaded the most. He made sure to stay as far away from the others as possible, not that the cafeteria offered a lot of space for that. If the weather was good enough, he would spend the break outside in a nearby park that was usually empty at this time. There he could spend the whole time eating in peace and listening to the soft rustle of leaves.

Youngjae overheard the conversation of a few classmates as he left the classroom. The things they murmured about him were so ugly that even he wouldn't want to repeat them and when he turned around to look at them, they were sending Youngjae glares as if he had been the one to do wrong, as if his mere existence excused their behaviour. His insides were boiling with anger, his mind was racing with unsaid words but he used all his self-control to stop himself from saying them.

With gritted teeth to keep quiet, he stomped out of the building and rushed to the park, he didn't even bother to get food, he had lost his appetite. For a moment he thought about skipping the rest of the day but they were not worth missing the lectures. The break would hopefully give him enough time to calm down. It was warm outside and the birds where chirping, the perfect atmosphere to close his eyes for a while and let those negative thoughts pass. Youngjae hated them.

Youngjae had fallen asleep for a while because when he opened his eyes again, it took him a few seconds to gather his thoughts and realize where he was. When he looked around he noticed that someone was sitting next to him and he thought he must be dreaming because it was the first time someone didn't put as much distance between them and him as they could. But the person was his classmate Daehyun and he seemed quite real, not that it did anything to lessen the questions arising in Youngjae.

“Hello,” Daehyun said when Youngjae remained quiet. It was the first time that Youngjae heard his voice, it had a nice and light tone to it. So Daehyun wasn't mute after all, at least this question was answered.

“Oh. So you can speak after all,” Youngjae said. He sounded unfriendlier than he intended to but nobody had approached him and it ended in a good way before so this time could be no exception.

“Yes,” Daehyun chuckled, unfazed by Youngjae's harshness. “I just prefer to not speak too much.”

“So you won't end up like me,” Youngjae replied.

“Kind of,” Daehyun said more quietly.

“At least you're honest. What do you want?” Youngjae growled.

“I heard the others talking about you again and decided to follow you when you ran away. I was worried,” Daehyun stated.

“You don't need to worry about me. You don't even know me,” Youngjae spat. He hadn't noticed he had been followed because he had been too deep in his own thoughts to be aware of his surroundings. Daehyun opened his mouth to speak for the first time and all that Youngjae wished was that he hadn't. Why did Daehyun suddenly into his matters, he had never cared before either.

“I know enough about you to know that you don't deserve those words,” Daehyun mumbled. Youngjae looked at the other, trying to find a hint that he was mocking him but Daehyun's face was calm.

“You know ,” Youngjae said.

“Why are you so rude? I have never done anything to you,” Daehyun sounded aggrieved. “Don't you think I out of all people can understand how you feel?” he added quietly.

“Nobody can understand me and now leave me alone,” Youngjae said and turned around. He didn't want to see Daehyun's face any longer, he could save his pity for somebody else, Youngjae didn't need it.

“Nobody should spend a lovely day like this alone, not even you Youngjae. I feel that you and I have a sort of connection, something that the other's can't understand,” Daehyun said quietly.

“Do I have to repeat myself? Who do you think you are that you say somebody like you could understand me? No one can!” Youngjae was angry. Daehyun had no right to stick his nose in his matters and act as if he meant well. No human being apart from his mother had good intentions, what ever Daehyun wanted from him, he wouldn't give it to him.

“Go and yourself and now leave me alone,” Youngjae shouted. He almost felt the burning on his skin when these words appeared on the back of his hand. He was already ugly so a few more words wouldn't make any difference, he was a lost case anyway. But when he looked at Daehyun's face, hurt and almost broken, he regretted what he had just said. An agony like he had never felt before spread from his chest to his throat, clasping around his airway to choke him. Subconsciously, his hand grabbed his collar, pulling on it to make it easier to breathe. It didn't help.

Daehyun's eyes filled with tears and once again, Youngjae hated himself. He was searching for words of apology, anything to make it better but the damage was already done and even if he was able to open his mouth to stutter out some words, there was nothing that would excuse his behaviour. His second thought was to run away, get some distance between them and hope he will wake up and this had just been a nightmare. Youngjae had lost control over the beast inside him once again. Before he could do anything it was Daehyun who got up and started running, the sound of his footsteps on the grass almost mocking Youngjae. The silence that followed was almost unbearable, Youngjae could hear the blood rushing in his ears, his heart was hammering so heavily that he thought he would have a heart attack any moment.

Youngjae skipped the rest of his classes and when Youngjae came home, he walked straight to his room, ignoring his mother's greetings. He threw his bag on the floor, dropped all his clothes and locked himself into the bathroom. He could still taste his own words, the poison of it burning on his tongue and crawling under his skin to hurt him even more. The only thing l he wanted to do was to wash off that feeling, he turned the tap for the hot water and stepped under the spray. The water hurt, it burned his skin but he deserved the pain for hurting Daehyun when he had done nothing wrong. Even though he was surrounded by steam, he shuddered from the cold feeling coming from his chest.

All that Youngjae had ever wanted was somebody who was open enough to give him a chance to prove himself and now that someone had made the step, Youngjae hurt him, proving that he was just the monster everyone thought he was. His only hope was that his carelessness would not affect Daehyun although he knew very well this was an empty hope, something he tried to delude himself with to make the pain go away, at least a little. He showered until his skin was numb and he spent the rest of the day in his room.

The next day, Youngjae didn't go to University and he also didn't go the day after. It had been a long time since Youngjae cried but every time he looked at his hand, he felt tears threatening to fall. He barely left his room, only when his mother called him for food he went to the kitchen to stir in his bowl for a while and leave most of the food untouched. His mother had stopped asking and he was thankful for that, the last thing he wanted was to lose control and snap at her, leaving another ugly mark on his skin.

He dreamed from the past, he dreamed about him, the man he made responsible for all his misery. It was one of his childhood memories that kept replaying in his dreams, torturing him again and again. He had only been 6 years old when he started to realize that something in his family wasn't quite r