He could not stop them. Their flow was unyielding, and he felt his eyes hurt as more left his ducts. The sight of the bike sheds was so blurry in his eyes that he no longer could distinguish shapes, dimensions or space – he felt blind, even with sight; pain was all he could sense. His chest would not stop throbbing and the piercing discomfort striking the centre of his lungs and the bottom of his gut churned painfully into itself. He could not handle the pain alone. He never did it before, but he had to reach out to someone. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and quickly scrolled through the contacts.

1 beep, 2 beeps, 3 beeps, 4 beeps:

“Hello?” answered the person on the other line.

“Lu – lu – lu...” Kyungsoo cursed himself, for being unable to even be comprehensible.

“Kyungsoo? What's wrong? Are you crying? What happened?” Luhan quickly barraged Kyungsoo with concerning questions.

Kyungsoo, being unable to calm down, merely sobbed to himself, and through those broken breaths, plead Luhan to wait for him to calm down.

“It's okay, Kyungsoo, I'm here. Where are you? I'll come and meet you.”

“It – it's okay, Luhan...” Kyungsoo finally managed to speak, though not without sounding absolutely devastated. His pain was so great, he could not mask it, as great as he was as trying to feign his okayness “I'm still in school, near the bike sheds.”

“What happened?”

“I was leaving school when I met Jongin on the corridor on the fourth floor. He – he...” Kyungsoo took a deep breath, “he and I had an unpleasant exchange.” he chuckled to himself, as he failed to make it seem less dramatic than it was.

“What? How? What did he say?” asked Luhan, confused, seeing as the whole school viewed Jongin as one of the most decent people around.

“The things is...”

Kyungsoo then explained to Luhan the misfortune he had proving himself, or rather, discrediting himself, from the drama club. He explained his attraction, admiration and jealousy, as well as his current incident.

“I don't know!” Kyungsoo cried out, grasping his chest. He leant against the concrete wall, empty exasperated breaths leaving his mouth as slowly slid down, until his rear met the ground, “Why does it hurt so much...!” he sobbed, letting out a dry cough and cry.

“That son of a – “ growled Luhan on the other line, absolutely outraged at the turn of the events and the words that Jongin spoke to Kyungsoo “I will kick his , I swear! How dare he! How dare he pass judgement when it was he, HE, who ing pushed you to do that.”

Feeling slightly better, by both the supportive reaction and comfort in Luhan's words, Kyungsoo calmed down considerable, smiling with the phone pressed against his moist cheek “N – no, Luhan, he's right, I shouldn't have done that...”

“Shut up, Kyungsoo; I will not accept whatever bull that pretender spews from his mouth: You are not wrong! For God's sakes, you are far more decent than he is. He is just a ing prince who gets everything handed out to him, by both the heavens and his wealth. And just because he can be kind once every blue moon, he's a ing beacon of decency... him! You work hard for your virtues; you sacrifice for your family, you work hard for them, and you're always there, for Chanyeol and I: You are a ing angel, not some monster like Jongin thinks you are.”

He felt a lightness in his chest at his friend's genuine empathy for him “If you're right, Lu, why does it hurt...?”

“Because your heart chose wrong,” Luhan stated coldly, “that's what I think. How can you adore a man that damns you through a belief that devalues you for your heart?”

“What do I do?” he asked, truly lost, for everything he thought of one person crumbled, and somehow, as little as they were involved with each other, part of their life, their perception changed.

“Give it time, I guess. Sorry, I can only get angry, I don't know what you feel like, so... Calling Chanyeol might have been the better option.”

“No, Lu, you're the best,” Kyungsoo beamed to himself, picturing the earnest and empathic look of his beautiful friend; a sight for sore eyes, “thanks for listening to me.”

“Anytime, Kyungsoo, do you want to meet up? I can come and pick you up.”

“No... I'm good now, I think. I'll call you again tonight.”

“Alright, I'll be waiting for it. Don't keep me guessing, Soo.”

The call ended, and Kyungsoo remained sitting on the ground. His sight was back, though his eyes hurt still. His chest receded to a more dormant level, but remained with that unpleasant piercing sensation. He sighed, eyeing down the mobile cradled in his lap.

“Stupid wish app...” he condemned, but truly he knew that the hearts of people could never be changed by mere wishful thinking. He had to accept the facts; he would never be ideal for Jongin, as much as the handsome boy was for him. The concept itself hurt him, deepest part of him. He tilted his head up, feeling the tears well up again. He cursed to himself, for the trail of tears that just began trailing down, were moistened once more, “Damn it, damn it all - “

He gasped.

He frozen, hearing the sound of a foot grinding against the sand.

He look to the side, where he saw a shadow stand in the corner of the shed, trying to be inconspicuous. His eyes widened to the size of plates and feared the worst. If the eavesdropped found out his true nature, terror would reign his days.

“Who's there!?” he called out, causing the shadow at the corner to twitch.

Slowly, the shadow on the ground shrank and a person peaked around the corner. The first feature the fair student noticed from the spy was bright blond hair.

“Yifan...?” he called, recognising the person standing a few feet away from him, “what were you doing?”

The tall, blond boy's large hands grasped upon the straps of his messenger bag and looked to the side, unable to look Kyungsoo in the face “I was on my way home from the sports hall, in the other building. On the way, I heard crying and I was curious...”

“...How much did you hear?”

Yifan faced him, firm face and visible tightness on his lips, “enough to hate Kim Jongin.”

“What?” Kyungsoo asked.

“I don't think what he did or said, was right, Kyungsoo.” Yifan said, staring Kyungsoo straight in the eye.

“You don't think I'm disgusting? Or wrong? Or... just... a monster?”

“No...” Yifan shook his head, “I think Luhan is right; you are an amazing person.”

Kyungsoo smiled to himself unable to believe the words that left from the taller boy's mouth “You don't have to pity me, you know?”

“It's not pity,” Yifan stated firmly, not wishing for any of his words to misinterpreted, “I do think you're a cool guy.”

“From what?” asked Kyungsoo, defensively, “you don't know me, at all.”

“First point being, you never seem to judge me, even though I know my mother has insulted you. You never turned it against me and you've treated me politely, even when you didn't have to.”

Kyungsoo wiped his eyes and nodded to Yifan “Why would I? I know it's difficult to have a helicopter parent, and I know it's affected you. I wouldn't want to add to that.”

“Thanks for that. Listen, whatever I say at this point may not matter much, but, I'm sorry for what my mother says; she loves me, I know, but I just -” Yifan hands, clenched around the straps of his bag, tightened even more, “I just wished she quit being a .”

“Yifan, don't say that!” Kyungsoo scolded, shocked at the vernaculars leaving the taller, blond boy's lips, “you said yourself that she does it because she loves you.”

“But it hurts me;” Yifan lowered his head, murmuring his statement “because I lost so much on being a normal guy.”

He froze at the sight of the blond teen in front of him. He was an unheard heir of so much pride; for his intelligence, athleticism and looks, yet, there he stood, condemned and cussing his own being. For some reason, the mild teen found empathy in the other boy and with courage, he said “I'll be your friend.” Kyungsoo offered.

The blond boy's eyes lit up with hope “Really?”

The pale student nodded, offering the blond male in front of him a gentle, lipped smile, “Yeah, if your mother, or life in general is... er... ing you,” Kyungsoo shivered at the word; borrowing from Luhan's vocabulary was certainly not his style, “give me a call, and we can just the word together. That's what I do with Chanyeol and Luhan.”

“Sounds fun.” Grinned Yifan.

“It is.”

After briefly nodding to each other, Kyungsoo passed his phone to Yifan, exchanging numbers with him.

“You were right...” Kyungsoo said, handing Yifan's phone back, “you barely have numbers on your phone, besides your mother.”

“She doesn't mind that I have friends, but the problem is, I don't,” he sighed, placing his phone back in his pocket, “I get along with the guys from the basketball team, but they never really want to hang out with me, you know.”

“You can always make the first step, Yifan, maybe t