Sighing once again, Ji Ho – or Zico, as he was known – closed his eyes. It had been a long day of hiding and running away.

“Are you okay?”, a sweet voice asked, full of concern.

Opening his eyes, Ji Ho contemplated the small room he was in: it was full of mold, humidity and its’ once white walls were now green. The room stank and living there was probably an attack to health. Despite all of that, for him – and for the others – that room was his haven, the best thing he could possibly have.

“Are you okay?”, the person asked again. Ji Ho blinked a few times and examined the girl standing at the entrance, not too far from him. She had an oval, cute face, dark long hair and a worried look plastered on her face. She was wearing the proletariat’s normal clothes: long, ugly gray sweatpants and an orange, oversized sweatshirt. Her clothes were completely dirty and made her look more petite than she was – proletariat’s clothes were always oversized and shapeless. She was also wearing an old white headband with a small bow on the side, giving her a pure, almost angelical appearance, despite her clothes and surroundings.

“I’m great.”, Ji Ho showed his big, playful smile to the girl and stoop up from the dirty floor he was sitting in. He too was wearing old gray sweatpants, but his sweatshirt was black, full of bleach stains. With his sleeves rolled up, Ji Ho carried a cool, strong look, contrasting with the girl’s innocent look.

“You look like a mess. As always.”, she chuckled. She knew she too looked like a mess. Showers were a rare thing around there and washing their clothes was practically impossible. Water was used for drinking and, seldom bathing. It was actually easier to steal new clothes than to wash the old ones.

Ji Ho spread his eyes open. The girl was normally quiet and reserved and even around people she knew for the longest – like Ji Ho himself – she wasn’t one of jokes and such. She was more of a sweet, but serious nature.

“What do we have here Kim Dasom? Trying to be feisty are we?”, Ji Ho lightly mocked, blinking. His right eye shone. Being fake, the eye had an unusual spark to it, that actually fitted Ji Ho’s strong yet playful personality. Its grayish almost white color also gave off a cool, but somewhat eerie feeling. Ji Ho was blind from that eye – the prosthesis’ only job was to occupy the empty orbit – but he had gained many things from losing an eye.

“I just want to know if you’re okay.”, she gave Ji Ho a sweet smile, shrugging lightly.

“As I said, I’m great.”, Ji Ho looked Dasom in the eyes. He wasn’t great. He was far from it. He was miserable, but he couldn’t let anyone know that.

“Zico, I need your help!”, someone screamed from another division of the small, old and abandoned apartment.

“What now?”, Ji Ho sighed. He knew exactly who was calling and why. He just wasn’t in the mood for pranks.

“Come on.”, Dasom took Ji Ho’s hand and dragged him to the other division, a slightly bigger room, where the rest of the group was.

“Kyung, I’m…”, before Ji Ho could finish talking, an amazing sight appeared before his eyes. Five jugs of water, three sacks of various foods and clean new clothes were all set in a circle, right at the entrance of the room.

“What were you saying?”, a tall, lean man asked with a smirk. He had slightly curled brown hair with a fringe. Like Ji Ho, and all the others in that room, he was wearing gray sweatpants and a sweatshirt – his was dark blue.

“Park Kyung, where did you get all of this?”, Ji Ho asked completely amazed.

“Like he would do anything like this.”, a girl scoffed. She had tanned skin and long black hair. She rolled her eyes and Kyung – the curly haired boy – did the same at her.

“So, who did this?!”, Ji Ho asked impatiently.

“I did.”, a quiet voice answered. A boy, probably a year younger than Ji Ho, came forward. He had light brown, almost blond hair.

“Where did you get this?”, Ji Ho insisted in knowing.

“I stole it from a group of Farmers.”, the boy said proudly. “Farmers” was the term used to describe the group of men and women in charge of the distribution of supplies for the Proletariat. They didn’t actually farm anything – no one did anymore. Food, clothes, machines, it was all made in the same place, no distinction.

“So, basically, you stole from a family.”, Ji Ho concluded after a moment of silence.

“Could you at least be thankful? You were running out of food! And now we have, not only food, but also clean water and new clothes!”, a girl, shorter than everyone else in the room, snapped at Ji Ho.

“Ha Na, you don’t have to…”, the blond boy started, but the girl didn’t let him finish.

“Look Zico, Daehyun just wanted to help. Be grateful and enjoy what we have because, unlike us, that family we stole from can request a new batch of supplies.”, the girl – Ha Na – said, her eyes burning Ji Ho.

“Why are you snapping at me?! Was I rude or something? I was just stating a point!”, Ji Ho answered back.

“Everyone, be quiet. Let’s all be rational here!”, another man joined the conversation. He had sharp looks, making him look wise and pondered.

“Taeil, no one here is being unrational.”, Kyung snorted.

“Kyung, unrational isn’t a word. Irrational is.”, Taeil – the wise man - snorted back and his sharp looks soon morphed into pure silliness.

“Let’s all just enjoy what we have for now okay? Ji Ho, we do what we have to do to survive. You know how hard our life is.”, the tanned girl joined, trying to put an end to that nonsensical discussion. She was one of the oldest and she felt her job was to be the responsible one when all the others weren’t.

“I know but…”, Ji Ho was immediately interrupted.

“Ji Ho, I’m speaking. You don’t get to answer back. I know you only try to do what’s right, but you have to understand: right now, we can’t have that luxury. We have a chance of getting food and water and we take it. Understand?”, the girl sternly asked. Ji Ho merely nodded.

“And you.”, the girl looked at Daehyun. “What you did was sweet and very nice, but next time inform us all. Not just Kyung and your sister. Get it?”, she asked, glancing quickly at Kyung and Ha Na, Daehyun’s sister.

“Yes.”, he nodded.

“Now that everything’s settled, let’s eat.”, she smiled and her serious face completely vanished.

“Bora, who named you the boss? As far as I remember, no one.”, Kyung mocked. When he turned around, Bora smacked his head and left to eat.

“I didn’t want to harm anyone.”

Opening his eyes, Ji Ho saw Daehyun looking at him, with an indecipherable look. Ji Ho was already lying down, ready to sleep, when Daehyun’s voice woke him up.

“Daehyun… We already solved this, didn’t we?”, he asked, sitting in the hard, deteriorated mattress.  

“I just wanted to help.”, Daehyun whispered, and Ji Ho could sense something wasn’t right.

“Daehyun, what’s wrong?”, Ji Ho asked, squinting his eyes to better examine Daehyun’s face.

“Nineteen years ago, I was born. And for those nineteen years, I’ve been illegal. I have no purpose in life. At least, that’s how I feel. Whenever I hear you talk with Taeil, Bora and Ha Na, I just feel so useless… I guess I just wanted to prove myself.”, Daehyun plopped down on the mattress besides Ji Ho.

“You don’t have to do that. We all know your value. And, Daehyun…”, Ji Ho looked him straight in the eyes, like he wanted to communicate directly with Daehyun’s soul.

“You are not illegal. No one is and no one should be called illegal. What’s that? A condition? Is it our fault we were born? No, it was not. And let me tell you more. If they want to call us illegals, then what are they? Freaks? You know what Daehyun? Part of the human condition is dying. It’s the only thing we are certain of from the day we are born: we are going to die. And they broke the rules. Not to mention this sick way of govern a country.”, once he started, no one could stop Ji Ho from expose all the injustices, all the wrong doings of Thuos Kor. Daehyun had touched a sensible spot.

“Zico, do you think we will ever be able to live as normal people?”, Daehyun sighed, running his head through his thick, blondish, dirty hair.

“We are normal people.”, Ji Ho stressed his sentence, trying to make Daehyun understand: just because they weren’t supposed to be born, that didn’t make them any less of people. They couldn’t just be called illegals and be chased like criminals – which, despite popular believe, they weren’t.

“I know, but will we ever be able to live as such?”, Daehyun looked at Ji Ho, eyes wide open, full of hope, but also sadness.

“Believe me Daehyun, we will.”