At Lunchtime, Kyungsoo walked from the classroom to the library, where he usually took turns being the student librarian; organising books according to the system, sell pens and pencils if students needed them, and to be in silence with a multitude of worlds, hidden beneath bound pages. Whilst his family cherished their time together in front of the TV, the only other piece of technology they shared was a laptop. His sisters both had smartphones, Sooyeon, to keep in touch with suppliers, keep track of the earnings, and contact clients, whilst Soojung used it to both fit in among her friends and organise herself appropriately. He willingly deprived himself, getting another plan for another mobile would be far too costly, and with their inconsistent capita, it would be far too economically hectic for them.

Upon arriving at the silent library, he noticed something strange; no one was in there. It was sans librarian and students. He questioned to himself whether he arrived to early, or he was missing an important school event.

He approached the desk and saw that indeed, there was no one behind it, or in the office. He moved to stand behind the counter and noticed that the returned and unshelved books trolley was full. Leaving his backpack under the desk, he took the trolley handle in hand and pushed it, rolling it to where the bookcases where.

Alphabetic, numerics, subjects, topics, sections – all the dividing information that drove the books apart, but in order, were what filled Kyungsoo's mind. He adored this quietness, almost as much as the quietness he found in his room. A silence without the grumble of the sea, or the whistling of the wind, was relaxing in its own way.

The last few books on the trolley were on very esoteric topics and seldom read documents – dissertations, essays, old magazines. Therefore, Kyungsoo found himself at the cornermost space of the library, where dust was thicker there than in other places. He checked the label on the books and groaned, disgruntled:

“These books go on top of the shelves...” he complained, having to push and pull the ladder then put it back in its place, “I really don't want to get the ladder.”

“No need, I got it.” a voice calmly stated behind him.

“Yah!” he yelped, not expecting to hear anybody. He grasped at his chest and turned, scolding the person “Good God... please announce yourself when you approach someone.” In front of Kyungsoo was a ladder and behind it, through the gaps in the steps, he saw a young man, offering a lipped smile. The boy seemed normal, plain – his protruding eyes and hooded eyes stared into Kyungsoo with what he felt was true neutrality. The smile he offered was more a polite offering than a friendly gesture.

“I'm not God, but thank you.” the boy said.

“I didn't mean – never mind, thank you.” Kyungsoo took the sides of the ladder and pushed it against the bookcase. He climbed to the top, with the books on one arm and placed each one appropriately.

“Do you like getting what you want?” asked the boy, tilting his head up from the bottom of the ladder, staring at Kyungsoo.

“Yes, I would appreciate it with less shocks, however.”

“Why do you like getting what you want?” The boy prod further.

“Because, if I wanted it and I got it, means I am a master of my own desire, as well as a person.”

“Even if you just wished for it, but done nothing towards it?”

“Hmm...” began to ponder on the strange boy's prodding questions “that depends on how much I want it. Sometimes you feel distress when something you wish but will never get always appears before you, even in your mind, right?”

“I wouldn't know...” the boy shrugged.

“I didn't even ask your name, I'm sorry,” he descended from the ladder, offering his fair hand “I'm Do Kyungsoo.”

“Call me Lay.” the boy reciprocated the gesture and shook hands formally.

“Okay, Lay. I've never seen you around, what year are you in?”

Lay shook his head, “I'm sorry,” Kyungsoo corked a brow at the misplaced excuse “but here,” Lay took hold of the teenager's hand and placed a black rectangular item in its grasp.

“What's this...?” Kyungsoo asked, inspecting the item in his hands. He felt a button near the corner of the item and pressed it, suddenly the screen lit, “a phone? Why are you giving this to me? The library isn't the lost and found, the office is - ”

“It's yours,” Lay said, “It's in your name.”

Kyungsoo eyed the student before him with narrowed eyes, “That can't be,” he denied “I don't have a phone.”