The second-hand on the wall clock ticks away slowly, counting seconds. He’s staring at the clock, waiting for the time the hand will strike 12 and another minute will begin again. Over and over in a circle of life that will only repeat itself. The hours will tick by slowly, leaving nothing in their wake but death in the end. There will always be someone for which the second is the last, someone who will never see the next hour. He’s wetting his lips with his tongue as he follows the second-hand as it starts a new routine, a new minute. Time will go on as long as he will be there to guard it.

September 2008

Jonghyun yawns and pockets his hands. The fog is lying thick in the morning and the visibility is only a few meters. The cars are driving slowly so as to not get into any accidents. The young man pops his neck and continues down the streets. On the corner is the neon light sign showing the open GS25 and he slinks inside. He walks up and down the rows pretending he looks at the snacks before he takes a deep breath and walks directly to the counter. The middle-aged man behind it looks at him with a squint and Jonghyun shrinks a little. This is so different from what he was raised to do.

“Uhm, I would …” He takes a deep breath and wills his hands to stop shaking in his pockets. He can do this. He’s confident. He will get the job. “I want to know if you’re still looking for an employee?”

That’s a lie. Jonghyun knows they’re still looking for a young employee because there’s a sign in the window and it has been there for the past 2 weeks. The neighborhood isn’t the best in Seoul and Jonghyun has met many shady people on his way from the small apartment where he lives with the man that has raised him to the convenience store.

The man behind the counter just nods and hands Jonghyun a paper. Jonghyun takes it a little confused until he looks down at the paper and realizes it’s a form. He takes a deep breath before he asks if he can borrow a pen in a shaky voice. The man just nods towards the sitting area with the small electric water boiler and Jonghyun hurries over. He sits down and looks at the form again. There’s an old ballpoint pen attached to a string lying on the table and Jonghyun grabs it and starts filling out the form.

Name: Kim Jonghyun

Age: 18

Education:

Jonghyun looks at the form before he decides to just dot down what makes most sense.

Education: Daeil High School

Former occupation:

He skips that one and goes right to ‘why do you want to work here?’ The form is quickly filled with the rest of his information and as he hands it over to the man behind the counter he takes one look before he shrugs and puts the form away. Jonghyun really needs the job, however. Not only does he need the money, he also needs the distraction his school can’t provide. He needs a setting that is neutral and won’t bring any attention to him.

“You’ll get a call in a couple of days if you get the job,” the man says and Jonghyun leaves the shop with slumped shoulders. He hears a woman call for help as a pickpocket runs away with her wallet but nobody bothers to help her. The police are rarely in this area anyway and everybody knows not to carry money or important documents. They have all adapted to the semi-criminal area they live in because the government cares only about the rich people.

The fog has lifted a little while Jonghyun has been in the shop but the atmosphere is heavy with the threat of rain. As Jonghyun enters the apartment and locks the door behind him, he calls out but gets no answer. It’s not uncommon. He lifts his wristband and stares at the 655.540 that is tattooed on his wrist. When he was 15 it had been 683.280. He hides the number and digs into his backpack and pulls out his math book. Jonghyun might as well get some homework done while he waits for the man who has raised him.

March 2010

“Oh,” Taemin says and the person in front of him nods a little. “Does that mean you want me to use she/her-pronouns?” The person nods again, lower lip worrying between teeth and Taemin sends her a smile. “Okay then!”

The girl blinks up at him.

“Are you okay with it?” she asks and Taemin nods a little.

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” He can see her sigh in relief and that makes him laugh a little. “Come on Jo...Junghwa! You’re my best friend! It doesn’t matter that you’re a girl. Actually, I think I like you better as a girl.”

He wiggles his eyebrows and she snorts.

“I would never date you, you’re gross,” she says and they both burst into laughter.

They spend the afternoon in her room discussing her trans-identity and what she’s going to do with it. She tells him she has been stealing her sister’s bras and stuffing them with socks and that there’s a dress buried beneath her underwear in case her mother is to go through her laundry. Taemin understands the struggle, however, because he’s not fully sure he’s a he either. It’s not like Junghwa, however. Taemin knows that he isn’t fully she either. It confuses him pretty often but he never tried labeling it. Junghwa raises an eyebrow at him when he doesn’t answer her question.

“What?” he asks sheepishly. He doesn’t tell her about his concern when she asks what’s wrong, wanting this to be about her, but they end up talking about him as well in the dark of the night.

“Maybe you’re fluid,” Junghwa says and Taemin looks at her with a strange look.

“Fluid?” he asks and Junghwa nods.

“Yeah! I came across it when I was looking for my own gender.” She blushes a little at the revelation but trans-identities are not exactly common in their neighborhood. “It’s when you change your gender between two things or more. Like some days you’re a guy and other days you’re a girl or … nothing at all.”

Taemin raises his eyebrow and changes his position on the bed.

“Nothing? Can you be nothing?” He asks in earnest and Junghwa nods excitedly.

Junghwa doesn’t know a lot about genderfluid identities but Taemin gets curious.

When he arrives home after school the next day, he logs onto his computer and starts searching. The more he reads, the more this seems to ring true within him. Some days he’s a boy and it makes plenty of sense, but then on other days he’s definitely more girl – and he realizes that this is okay. The more he reads, the more he finds that he/him-pronouns are making him uncomfortable when he’s a girl.

He looks through his closet to find the headbands and the tights in his dresser. The old T-shirt he cut into a crop-top when he was 13 still rests beneath the other clothes in his closet. It isn’t until he comes upon gender-neutral pronouns that he realizes that this is him.

Taemin is genderfluid and he’s not a him, he’s a fae.

Taemin doesn’t know how to bring it up to his family, however, but he doesn’t need to when they ask to Junghwa over dinner.

“How is Jongin?” his mother asks and Taemin bites his cheeks quickly before he corrects her.

"She’s fine,” he says and suddenly all eyes are on him.

“She?” his older brother asks and Taemin nods, feeling intimidated. His parents share a look that is so disgusted that Taemin shrinks in his chair. He avoids all the questions that follow and the remarks of the sweet boy that turned out to be such a freak have him shrinking in on himself. Taemin feels horrible when he goes to bed that evening but he doesn’t get any sleep, his parent's words still circling his mind. They will no doubt think of him as a freak as well.

July 2010

Minjung is late. Her mother usually requires her to be there within 5 minutes but she’s still at least 15 minutes from the café where she’s supposed to meet her next blind date. Minjung isn’t really in a hurry, though. Meeting men that her mother for some reason deems good for her and the company has never really been Minjung’s biggest interest. In fact, she’s getting tired of it. So she spends plenty of time walking down the street in her wedges and summer dress. She’s dressed to impress and she sticks out like a sore thumb, even in the upscale neighborhood.

Minjung hasn’t chosen her own attire this morning either and it proves as the dress strap keeps slipping off of her shoulder and her left ankle is forming a blister in the shoes. Her long hair is curled into soft ringlets and she keeps throwing them back over her shoulder so they don’t blow into her face in the soft breeze. She looks just as rich as she is. Despite this, she still walks slowly down the street, stalling as much as she possibly can before she’s face to face with another rich young man, looking to impress the only Choi-daughter.

She’s walking in her own thoughts, swallowed by self-pity, when someone bumps directly into her. They apologize and reaches out to dust off her dress. Minjung looks at them for a second before she spots the look in their eyes. They’re looking directly at her Fendi purse and it takes only a split-second before they reach out to grab it. Minjung holds onto it, however, her gaze directed at the stranger that quickly lets go and sends her a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry,” he says and Minjung shrugs a little.

The stranger in front of her is good-looking. His blond hair is showing black roots and his face is sharp edges with a soft glow. His skin is remarkable despite his shaggy looking shirt and jeans. Minjung doesn’t really mind getting robbed by this stranger. Actually, it makes her feel sort of rebellious because losing her cards will only get her mother mad at her. She looks through her purse before she finds her wallet and hands it to the stranger who is now just staring at her.

“Here, take it.”

They’re staring at each other. The man in front of her ruffles his hair and blinks a few times.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” he says and starts an explanation about how he was just trying to get the dust off of her bag. Minjung sees right through him, though.

“Oh, stop it. You’re a pickpocket and you want my wallet, so here, take it. I’m busy so I don’t have time to discuss this.”

She looks at her wristwatch and notices that she’s now going to be at least 20 minutes late if not more.

“Stealing is illegal,” the man says and Minjung raises an eyebrow.

“And yet you were about to grab my purse and run off. Come on, this is a one-time offer and I won’t report to you the police…” There’s a slight pause before she starts counting down. “10, 9, 8, 7…”

The man in front of her looks uncomfortable to be put on the spot but when she reaches 1 he finally takes the wallet from her grasp. Minjung sighs relieved, only to be disappointed when he puts it back in her purse.

“You should be more careful. There are people out there who aren’t as nice as I am,” he says and Minjung rolls her eyes.

“Sure,” she says sarcastically and turns away. She can’t be more than 30 minutes late before her blind date will complain to her mother and that is a scolding Minjung would rather not receive. She can throw away her money and her cards and have fun in her small rebellious acts, but skipping a blind date is going to result in disappointment and verbal punishment and she’d rather not experience that again.

She has barely taken 3 steps before the stranger pats her shoulder and has her turn around. His smile is lopsided and genuine and Minjung notices a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You should give me your number, though. As compensation,” he says and Minjung stops for a second in shock. Then she laughs and nods. There is something exhilarating about the stranger. It’s not every day you get asked for your number by a man who minutes earlier tried to steal from you. Minjung leaves the stranger with a new number and name in her phone.

The blind date is just as boring as she had expected.