His nerves were stretched to the limit. He was tired, very tired. He could not remember the last time he had slept in a bed and not just nap briefly in the otherwise comfortable leather furniture in the office. He ran his hand through his hair, which stylish look was long lost, then let it collapse like an inanimate object on the handle of the chair. Yunho gasped and leaned his head back.

Insensible. Everything around him was exactly like that – false and dead. He was surrounded by objects that had no value. His employees were people he didn’t know. He even didn’t know the name of his domestic made, because there were other insignificant people who did hired her. She was doing her job great, doesn’t she? Then, what difference one name has? Nothing at all. But in moments like this one, when there was a need for him to stay and work on an important company project, when he had not slept for days, to be sure that everything about a contract or the current job is done, Yunho was realizing how lonely actually he is. Lonely, because he was surrounded by people, whom he did not have trust in.

He has a few friends in his life, but they were all true. However, they all had their own lives, which just like his own were passing at full speed. The difference was there that these people had families to whom they could go back at the evening and wives on whose knees to lay their weary heads. On his turn Yunho was having no one in his life.

He took his glasses down with slow, meticulously perfect gesture and left them on the scattered all over the desk worksheets. Yunho rubbed his heavy from the insomnia eyes and looked wearily through the window. From his office on the top of the building, he could see only the roof lights of the skyscrapers that glowed like fireflies in the night sky of Seoul.

Yunho got up from his chair and took a few steps in an attempt to get rid of the cramps his body got from the long standing in one place. He went to the window and rested his forehead on the cold surface. Several floors below, in the opposite wing of his corporate building, he saw lights creeping through the windows.

“Perhaps security was on their way of patrolling,” he thought to himself, closed his eyes and let the coolness of the glass to seep under his skin. Fatigue was finally beginning to prevail over his head and chaotic thoughts slunk through his mind – memories and conversations from the past that he wouldn’t have thought about in a moment of full consciousness.

“Hyung, you know that at night, when I’m really tired and I barely am able to stay with open eyes, but I want to wait for dad to finish his work, I do touch face with the window glass and puff my cheeks.”

“ChaMi, what kind of nonsense is this? How this actually helps you?”

“Dispels me and makes me laugh. And laughter is the cure to everything. This is what my dad is always saying to me and he is never wrong,” said the little boy from Yunho’s memory and his lips spilled in a wide smile.

Min was a friend of Yunho. Probably one of the man’s most vivid memories from his childhood. However, all that the businessman remembered about him were scattered fragments of the past, the eternally tousled hair of the boy and his mismatched eyes when he was smiling. Something that then the eight years old Yunho has found very charming and interesting.   

For a brief moment in time, Yunho wondered what had happened to him. He did remember that the boy’s father had once been a butler in his parents’ house. When the man died suddenly, his parents refused to take care of the child and a few weeks later a social worker takes Min, and Yunho never saw him ever again. Now that he thought about that, he did realize that from that moment he began to withdraw and isolate himself from the rest of the world. The loss of his faithful friend and the coldness of his parents, rejecting all of his requests to detain Min with them, ultimately stripped Yunho of his ability to feel affection for someone. All these years later he was still cold to everyone.

Yunho’s eyes suddenly opened, although fatigue.

“What the hell,” he said to himself, touched his nose to the window and puff his cheeks.

He stayed like that for no more than thirty seconds, then gently pulled back slightly from the window. In the glass he saw only the image of his own tired reflection.

“See Min,” he said in the empty space. “It didn’t work. This is silly. What am I doing?”

However, he again pressed his face to the glass and repeated the madcap action. There was no one to see him, beside there was no one who would dare say anything to or about Yunho. Everyone did fear him too much.

“God, I must be really crazy,” said again Yunho, face away from the cold surface. “I am crazy to believe you Min.”

And yet, his lips crept slowly in a slight smile across his face. Yunho laughed at the foolish reflection, then turned and walked back to his desk to finish the job. What the businessman didn’t know however was that several floors below, from a window in the opposite wing of the building, a young boy with shaggy hair, wide smile and mismatched eyes was standing and silently watching him.