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Part One: "The Difference"

It was in the middle of Chanyeol’s fourteenth Summer when he cried himself to sleep for the very first time. They say everyone is unique, and that it’s okay to be different. But, Chanyeol never believed them, because if everyone is special, then no one is. It’s totally contradicting, it is only something said to cheer up all the people that have no other assets besides breathing. Chanyeol believed that he was just another weary soul in a crowd of grey. At the age of sixteen he no longer lived, he only breathed the polluted air. Living is something precious, where you can still laugh and cry and feel the wind blow through your hair. Chanyeol was only numb to his very core, he started to feel nothing at the very tender age of fourteen.

Nicknames are supposed to be something sentimental between a group of friends, good nicknames are always made through memorable events and bad ones are made off of one features. Ever since Chanyeol was little, he was made fun of. It wasn’t because he was lanky or funny looking, but it was because he let their cruel words get thrown at him. Chanyeol was chosen to be picked on simply because he allowed it to happen. It always starts out as something small, and Chanyeol let those first bad words pass by since everyone told him “If you ignore them, they’ll go away.”

Oh, they didn’t know how wrong they were until it was too late.

“Chanyeol are you crying?” He would hear his mother knocking on the other side of the door since an eleven year old Chanyeol locked it.

“No, why would you think t-that?” He wiped his salty tears on a pillow that listened to his whimpers at night and dried his tears by dawn.

“You’ve locked yourself in, Chanyeol. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m just tired.”

But Chanyeol has been tired for a while now, though he doesn’t have the heart to tell anyone because they don’t have the mind to listen. He was a total pushover. He let the hurtful words sink in and let the aftermath of tears spill into the night, when the moon feels his soul, not when the sun sees his body.  He never told anyone because his parents told him big boys don’t cry, he didn’t want to disappoint them, he wanted to grow up fast.

Chanyeol was fifteen the first time he was sent over to the counselor's office.

“Now Chanyeol, can you tell me what happened?”

“Nothing really happened, it was all a huge misunderstanding.” Chanyeol let the lie seep out slowly through the gaps in his teeth with a hiss. With hardened, brown eyes he clenched his teeth together and pulled the sleeves of his jacket over his quivering fingers.

In the boy’s locker room, the people in his locker row would always try and lift the sleeves of his sweaters up for a glance at his arms. And then after awhile the stopped asking and started grabbing, all because a rumor was going around. It was only until today that Chanyeol punched someone for grabbing his wrist so hard that it stung.

“My cat just scratches me a lot when I’m asleep, miss.” But Chanyeol knows he doesn’t have any cats.

“Okay then, but tell your parent’s to be expecting a call from us. You did punch Yongguk in the face.” Chanyeol knows doesn’t have “parents” either.

They all thought the new kid was crazy when he tried talking to Chanyeol. Baekhyun had auburn hair that was slicked up  and hooded eyes thinly lined black. Chanyeol had disheveled black hair with glazed eyes that remained downcast at all possible times, they were the complete opposites on the outside, but on the inside, they were both fighting a battle. Everyone told Baekhyun to not get his hopes up high because Chanyeol doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t like people. But Baekhyun makes his way on over to him anyways, because he recognizes the bony fingers that tug on long sleeves and the hands that wander over to the pencil sharpener but draw away reluctantly.

“Hey, I'm Baekhyun.” Baekhyun sat down in front of Chanyeol although he didn’t answer. And everyday for the next two weeks, Baekhyun would sit down in front of Chanyeol even if he didn’t talk until one day, he finally muttered something.

“Are you okay?” Chanyeol murmured so quietly and carefully, keeping his hood over his sixteen year old head and his eyes downcast onto the floor.

“Of course I am, why?”

“No sane person in the school would talk to me, I know they already talk about me.”

“Well I’m not sane, I just want to sit here with you.” Baekhyun leaned into the table, still a good distance away from Chanyeol’s face although he bore holes into it with his eyes. “Are you okay?” Baekhyun knows he isn’t, but he asks it anyways- perhaps as some type of formality, or maybe he was just returning the favor.

“Of course I am.” Chanyeol spoke with dull words that held so much more than what they expressed. His breathing slowed down, as he took in his own lie. Maybe if he kept on saying he was okay, he might eventually believe himself one day.

“You’re lying.”

“And if I am?”

“If you are, then I am too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chanyeol lifted his head from his hood and Baekhyun inspected him now that he could see his face. He saw mussed up bangs hovering over swollen eyes and chapped lips. It was almost pitiful to see Chanyeol in that sort of state. Baekhyun held in a breath when Chanyeol looked up, he didn’t think anyone could look so obvious to their misery until then. But it was only because Baekhyun masked his own with expertise.

“It means that I lied as well.” Baekhyun let out a deep and sorrowful sigh before slumping into his seat, letting his guard down in public to bask in the loud chatter of the cafeteria for once. He thought it was interesting, how hundreds of these people walk about talking behind other people’s back without knowing that they’re killing them all off, one miserable kid by another miserable kid. “I haven’t been feeling all too well either.”

“Is that so?” Chanyeol figured he was supposed to read in between the lines, and so he did. Baekhyun didn’t look sad, he looked overjoyous and arrogant in fact. But, Chanyeol knew how it was to lie, and how easy it was too. Baekhyun was putting on a show for everyone else, but Chanyeol no longer had his own audience to entertain. That was the difference between the two. “Well, then I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry for something you haven’t done wrong.”

“I have done everything wrong, Baekhyun.”