They had taken extra care to make sure Kibum never went near anything sharp, for now. 

He tried to explain to them that he hadn't been trying to off himself, but they weren't listening. They didn't understand.

He tried and tried to tell his psychiatrist that it had helped. The pain had helped the other pain, the frustration, the hurt... but she didn't agree. She said it was bad, it was wrong for Kibum to do that. She said he needed a lot of help, and that she was going to help him.

Taemin and Jonghyun were disappointed in him, he could tell. They were getting so much better, while he was just getting worse. They were on a higher level. They could spend more time outside, doctors could take them on field trips, and they could use knives while they ate. They had more free time in a rec. room, while Kibum was now on a scheduled rec. time of only 30 minutes a day. He was forced into more therapy, so much therapy that he was getting tired of seeing that bland white room, that ugly biege couch, and the psychiatrist he had once liked.

She said that she had found that firefighter, and he was scheduled to come in on Friday. 

Kibum was too anxious. Too fired up. He was jittery and nervous and it was only Monday. He fought with himself constantly, and he was losing sleep over it.

He wanted to see the firefighter, so badly.

But he didn't. He didn't want the rejection, the pain, the hatred. He didn't want it.

The psychiatrist wanted him to tell the firefighter everything. How he felt, how messed up he was because of his father...

He decided not to. It wasn't right to put all of that on the man. He didn't deserve it. And most of all, Kibum just didn't want him to know how disgusting he truly was. 

There was nothing Jonghyun and Taemin could say that would make these feelings disappear. He was a disgusting , a disgrace, he didn't belong in this world. His father had been right all along, and realizing that made the crack in Kibum's heart deepen even further...

He laid in bed the last few nights, chest aching. He didn't know how to handle all these emotions at once, and he felt like he was becoming hysterical. It wasn't good, he thought, the way he was feeling. He wanted these feelings to just go away, disappear, and leave him alone. He wanted to cut. He wanted to make them go away. 

Somehow, the time had passed quickly, and it was already Friday. He was eating breakfast with Taemin and Jonghyun in the cafeteria when Dr. Lee came for him. She smiled and took his tray to the kitchen for him. Half of him wanted to escape, yet the other half wanted to see him. Needed to see him.

She came back and slid her arm around him, and for once, Kibum didn't even flinch. He knew that she would never touch him like his father had. Not everyone was like that.

"Now you sit here," She sat him down in a white chair, in a room he had never been in before. "and I'll be right back."

Kibum watched her leave, the door shutting and locking behind her. He immediately started breathing heavily. He needed to get out of here, he couldn't be here, it was too much... He slid back on the chair and pulled his legs up, hugging them to himself. He let out a few ragged breaths and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drive back the rising panic in his chest. His heart thudded wildly against his ribs. He wanted to get up and scream, pick up a chair and throw it at a window, pry the door open, throw himself out into the real world because he couldn't do this right now, or ever. He couldn't.

The man he idolized, maybe even loved, was going to be so disgusted with him. And suddenly, a great sorrow overcame Kibum. He couldn't decide whether to cry or scream or laugh at his patheticness.

He could feel tears pooling in his eyes, but bit onto his bottom lip to fight them back. The door clicked, and it creaked as it opened, and two pairs of footsteps entered the room.

"Kibum," Dr. Lee said, coming around the chair to look at him. He had begun shaking. She smiled reassuringly at him and patted his arm. "Kibum, this is Choi Minho, the firefighter who saved your life."

She motioned for him to come forward, and he sat down on the chair in front of Kibum, smiling widely.

His eyes were just as big and brown and beautiful as Kibum remembered. His lips were plump and pink, his hair shorter than he had pictured... and Kibum couldn't stop the way his cheeks lit up, bright pink, and the way his heart thumped and stuttered. He could swear there really were butterflies in his stomach. He squeezed his arms around his legs, blushing and nodding at Choi Minho.

"Hello, Kibum." Minho smiled widely. "I'm happy to finally be meeting you."

Kibum's heart stopped when Minho smiled.

He was happy too.